I know my Savior. He lives by my side. Even though he is the Beloved Son of God, he thinks that I am just as important as Him.
I know my Savior. He succors me. He takes every single one of my pains from me and sometimes I hate to let Him.
I know my Savior. He strengthens me. He holds all power and light. And he shares generously.
I know my Savior. He knows me too, by name. He thought of me While in the Garden and on the cross.
I know my Savior. He is my best friend. He is the way, the truth, the life. He makes all things possible.
I know my Savior. He saves all mankind. But somehow He makes me feel. Like I am the most important save.
I know my Savior. He is perfect, love, kindness. So how could I ever think I am the most important? Because He loves all.
I know my Savior. Someday I will see Him in the flesh. And I will have eternal life. Only because of Him.
I know my Savior. His name is Jesus Christ. He is everything. I am nothing, but somehow, miraculously, through Him, I can be everything.. Because to Him, I mean everything.
I have always loved the Jews. Anna Elovitz is one of the most wonderful people I know and she has been a wonderful friend since I was just a baby in High School. Her brother Adam took me on my first date. I was wearing the most ridiculous dress. Sorry Adam. I had no taste. What can I say? He was most gracious though. I am so relieved that those photos are all in someone’s attic about now. I am not even going to entertain the thought of sharing it. The Elovitz family is one of the best families I know.
Another book that I absolutely love was written by a Jew: Man’s Search for Meaning. Viktor Frankl was a very wise man. There is also another book about a Jew that I love. The Holy Bible: The New Testament.
Sorry, I wanted to give you some background of my knowledge of the Jewish faith. It’s limited. Very limited. I went to a Passover Feast once. I have seen menorahs in windows and I remember Anna having to do something on Friday nights sometimes because her Sabbath was from when the sun went down on Friday until the sun went down on Saturday.
This book, Have A Little Faith, was written by a Jew. It serves two purposes. It is first a wonderful testament to the power of faith. Secondly, it is a remarkable tribute and comparison between a beloved Jewish rabbi and a non Orthodox Christian pastor. Each have great faith. Each were completely inspiring.
I highly recommend this book to people of all faiths everywhere. I especially recommend this book to people without faith. I dog-eared half of the book, but let me give you just a few of my favorite parts:
The Talmudic translation of the account of the parting of the red sea. Mitch Albom remembered a religious school lesson fondly. God said to the angels who were celebrating the destruction of the Egyptians: “Stop celebrating. For these were my children, too.” Wow. God does love all his children, doesn’t He?
Rabbi Albert Lewis recounted the experience he had of trying to comfort a faithless physician who could not make his only belief in science save his sick brother. He had no one to blame but himself when people of faith can always blame God. Albert Lewis: “It is far more comforting to think God listened and said no than to think nobody’s out there.”
A conversation between a rabbi and his parishioner: “So have we solved the secret of happiness? I believe so. Are you going to tell me? Yes, Ready? Ready. Be satisfied. That’s it? Be grateful. That’s it? For what you have. For the love you receive. And what God has given you. That’s it? That’s it.”
I could go on and on, but I don’t want to ruin all the stories. They are each so inspiring. Collectively they are a bit overwhelming. In a good way. In a God way.
This is a quick read. I started one night at 11 p.m. and stayed up until 3 a.m. reading. I am slow reader. I never stay up that late. I couldn’t put the book down. It had the perfect mixture of laughing and crying and chillbumps.
In the Holy Bible is this prophesy in Malachi 4:5-6:
Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful dy of the Lord: And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.
As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who lives in The Bible Belt, I am often ridiculed for my beliefs. I am the first to admit that many of them just seem kind of “out there”. A boy prophet. Gold plates. The practice of polygamy (which I will be the first to admit that I don’t understand or like) and I am totally relieve that we aren’t called upon to practice in this dispensation. I can assure you that if I didn’t know that God himself had given me an answer as to the truthfulness of my church, I would be the loudest opposer. If I didn’t know with all my heart that I belong to the true church of Jesus Christ, I would search for it my whole life over because I love my Savior Jesus Christ with all my heart.
Often times though, I am reminded how fortunate I am to belong to a church that has all the pieces of the puzzle. One of those huge pieces is: A sealing power that binds families for eternity. Go here to see my belief about this prophesy in Malachi.
I have to admit that when I see someone lose a family member to death, I want to forcefully proclaim that there is a way for them to still be with their loved one forever. I also want to give this most precious gift to my non-Mormon friends who have not been privileged with the blessing of the sealing power, yet. Really, what greater gift can God give us than for our families to be together forever? This talk by a female leader in my church was so powerful to me in explaining the true doctrine of the family.
One of the greatest blessings that I enjoy in this life is the certainty that my family has been bound together by God. When LG and I were married, we were sealed in a temple of God, but God’s power. Of course God’s realm is not just ’til death do us part, but is for time and all eternity. And because LG and I were sealed in the temple of God, our children were born “under the covenant” which means that they are sealed to us forever also. And because our parents were sealed, we are likewise sealed to them. And guess what…this work goes on for the dead and it goes all the way back to Adam and Eve. Thus, “the hearts of the children”.We can all be together forever. The only thing that could steal this promise away is our own unfaithfulness.
Go ahead and call it all jibberish if you want, but I know it to be true. There is no place in this whole wide world like the temple of God. Only the temple of God has given me a glimpse of what it will be like for eternity. And it is too good for me to even behold.
If you happen to be one of my few readers who are not Mormon and are genuinely interested in these temples of God, I just want to tell you that once in a while, you can go inside. The temple in Atlanta GA has been rennovated and before it is rededicated to God’s work, the general public is allowed to tour. Go here for details.
I thank God daily for the blessings of the temple where I learn about my Savior Jesus Christ and where I also have been the blessed recipient of eternal endowments and blessings. These blessings are available for all and I wish that more people could get past the “out there” stuff and realize that God is a God of miracles and his ways are not our ways.
Oh and for you non-Mormons who may visit us in Utah. Know that when you come out to Utah to see us, we will not only take you to the greatest snow on earth or the marvelous beauty of the Rocky Mountains or red rocks, but we will take you to the Salt Lake Temple. It’s gorgeous, it’s where we were married and it took the Mormon Pioneers 40 years to build. It’s an incredible place. I like to think that there are still many people on earth today that would give that kind of sacrifice for their God.
Search me God. Find the source of decay and heal it. Find my broken heart and make it whole. Make my brain without lesions. Cure each sore muscle. Fill the hole of lonliness. The thoughts of negativity, pluck from me and transform them into loveliness.
And when thou art done, make me a tribute to thee, a living monument to thy grace and power and love.
And from me, others will see beauty and like I have, they will stop in place and time and know that thou art God. And they will want to be thy creation too. And they will search for thee.
And they will know that all they have to do is let Thou search through them. And do thy magic. They will ask also. And I will be but one flower in a world full of breathtaking gardens.
One thing I have come to understand in the past few years is that we each have addictions.
Some are addicted to alcohol, drugs, or sex. Some to pornography, coffee, tobacco. Many others have the socially acceptable if not revered addictions like exercise, house cleaning, make-up application, shoe collecting, or shopping. Some are hoarders. Some have eating disorders. Some struggle with same sex attraction. Some pedophilia. Others with having children (hello octomom) or stockpiling stocks.
I personally struggle as a co-dependent. I am also addicted to baked goods, and I am not saying that as a joke. Like so many others, in the closet and out, I have an obsession with being loved. I will do anything to be loved including but not limited to letting other people treat me like crap, excessively rescuing and controlling, crying for days when someone reprimands me, and being overly responsible. I am grateful that I am married to the man that I am, who understands my struggle. Many other codependents have to go through many relationships to be satisfied. Many other addictions can be traced back to original codependency; in fact many addicts have to come to terms with their codependency to successfully overcome their other temptations.
Just watch this Pink video for the song Please Don’t Leave Me and tell me she doesn’t get the need to be loved. Or how about this one called I Can’t Make You Love Me by Bonnie Rait, one of my personal favorites. We sang the song Give Me the Gift of Love by Bette Midler at my Grandma’s funeral. I have come to believe that my Grandma understood the excessive need I feel to be loved. My mom has it too. No brainer really. Where do you think I learned it?
Anyhow, it’s Sunday. If I post on Sunday, it is going to be something that honors God. This video honors my God. It does a great job of explaining there is one place where we can get the strength to overcome addiction. I know this place to be my friend and Savior Jesus Christ. He strengthens me every day and I am so very grateful.
So, go ahead, say something mean. I am recovered enough I can take it. I no longer need you to love me. I have learned that getting love from one person is plenty satisfying. That person isn’t my husband; LG’s love is just icing on the cake. Your love for me is like daffodils in bloom, but God’s love: God’s love is as big as this whole magnificent earth. Actually it’s bigger than I understand. I can’t measure infinity.
Thank you to my God who frees me from my bondage. Next focus: milkshakes. I am not planning on taking that one too fast.
A friend had this video posted on facebook tonight.
It didn’t make me want to sing; it made me want to listen.
It made me want to use my voice better as a mother.
No more screaming. Only loving.
No more criticizing. Only encouraging.
No more frustrations. Only moments to embrace.
I am blessed by God to raise four beautiful daughters.
Sometimes I fail miserably, but because of God’s grace, I still have a shot every day at being their biggest fan. I get every day to become the kind of mother I want to be.
I hope someday when I am gone, and they are hanging with their children or grandchildren, my girls will have a moment when they say to themselves: “That was the voice of my mother coming out of my own mouth.” And I hope whatever they said was something that I would be proud of.
My friend Aimee gave the women of our congregation a wonderful lesson on Sunday. It was about the eternal principle of work. Work is something I have thought a lot about lately. Which is funny given this quote I just read.
You cannot plough a field by turning it over in your mind. ~Author Unknown
Looking at the quotes on the internet today allowed me to hang myself. I am guilty. I admit it. I think too much and work too little. Especially at times when I am under a lot of stress. Maybe I should say that I eat too much and work too little. That might be more accurate.
I thought that you all may enjoy some of my favorite quotes about work.
Some people dream of success… while others wake up and work hard at it. ~Author Unknown
Be not afraid of going slowly; be afraid only of standing still. ~Chinese Proverb
Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle. ~Abraham Lincoln
Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work. ~Thomas Edison
The difference between try and triumph is a little umph. ~Author Unknown
I am also attaching this cool little video. It’s inspiring. And let’s face it, I need some inspiration so that I can get off this computer, put the oreos away, and get the laundry done. For those of you not familiar with the Latter Day Saint (Mormon) culture, watch until the end when this kid goes on his Mormon mission.
Think about what it would be like to send your kid off for two years knowing you would only be able to talk on the phone twice a year. And tell me that your mom heart doesn’t just burst into tears.
Inspiring people of my faith work and sacrifice every day.
First of all, every position in our charge is filled by lay ministry (for lack of better terms). Nobody gets paid.
Our Bishops (equivalent to Baptist pastors) work full-time jobs, are married and usually have kids, and administrate and shepherd the whole congregation.
We currently have over 50,000 full-time missionaries
serving 18mo-2year missions all around the world.
And they work so very hard.
I know because I was one of them.
We worked every day from 6:30 in the a.m. until 9:30 in the p.m.
The schedule was grueling.
Even on the Sabbath, missionaries didn’t get rest from their full-time missionary service.
We would take 8 hours of one day a week to accomplish
letter writing, grocery buying, laundry doing, and apartment cleaning.
We were lucky to sneak away an hour or two for actual rest, which I would usually try to find some kind of physical challenge. I was very happy when I had companions who liked to hike or play volleyball or basketball.
I need to rediscover the work ethic I had back then.
Of course the only picture I have scanned is when I wasn’t actually working. Hey, but at least there are no oreos in the photo. Even though my vest and white shirt getup is making me obsess over the creme filled centers.
Man, I am stressed out. It’s no wonder why I am avoiding work. I don’t want to do it.
I wonder why we could never get this guy to come to church with us. Check out his resemblance to Jesus.
While in marriage counseling a while back the subject of garbage became a stumbling block. I complained that he knew it was his job and that he never did it. This was my complaint in general. I was begging for my husband to do his part.
Imagine my surprise when LG answered the counselor’s question of why he didn’t take the garbage out if he knew it was his job. “She always does it first. She never gives me a chance.” What?? I felt betrayed. How many times had I run out to the meet the garbage man in my underwear, like my newest favorite blogger? Yes, there were many times that I just went ahead and did it after school the day before so that I wouldn’t forget, but there were also many more that I didn’t do it all because I hoped he would, and he didn’t. In fact, he may have done it once without my reminder. Once in 12 years.
So, marriage counseling became our tool to reveal the truth. The truth was somewhere in the middle. I took the garbage out too much and he didn’t enough. Wow. What a revelation.
The real work came when we had to decide what to do about it. For my husband it meant getting in touch with his ADD and making a reminder and system that would help him out.
For me it was a little more difficult. It was called some serious character changing. When the marriage counselor told me to let the garbage pile up if needed I about died. Seriously, it was like he told me to give up my first born.
Looking back it made perfect sense. How was the guy ever gonna learn unless I was willing to let him take full responsibility? I had to be willing to let him succeed or fail with the garbage. The only way he would be forced to admit to not doing the job was when he had to go out after three weeks and physically handle the maggot infested bags. To which afterwards while jumping in the shower he proclaimed, “O.k. the problem just became greater than the solution.”
The next time that reminder came up on his phone’s screen, it became a whole lot more relevant.
It is hard for self proclaimed perfect people like me to give grace to others’ weaknesses. It is even harder to give that grace to myself. I had to get in touch with the fact that I am OK and of worth with imperfections. I can let myself and my family members have imperfections too. Just because we aren’t perfect it doesn’t mean that I am worthless. This may sound like selfworth 101 for some of you, but trust me when I say that this concept was a huge deal to me.
So the moral of the story. Let the garbage pile up. Let your spouse take full responsibility. Let people fail because it’s only in the failing that people learn to succeed. It’s also only in the accepting the failure that we truly learn to love ourselves and others.
Oh, and if I am gonna be fair, I would like to make a public apology to my husband for being mad at him for 11 years over the garbage. I admit that I wasn’t really fair that I was resentful at him for not doing a job that I was all too willing to do for him.
I would also like to make an announcement. I think it has been a whole two months since the last time he forgot, and that is really really impressive. And I think I am equally impressive as the one time I watched it piling up tall and wide…like almost to the fence-line, I believed myself that the garbage really had nothing to do with my selfworth.
alice w. gold 