FOR THE LOVE OF A DOG

One of our lessons in church today was about the importance of service.

It turned towards getting over having your service rejected - or perhaps worse, made fun of.

The teacher told of her experience with offering a homeless person a sandwich - and then having that same person throw the sandwich back at them.

We discussed our experiences with homeless beggars at WalMart - and someone mentioned casually....

"And maybe if they are begging for food, they shouldn't have a dog with them."

Oh, my.

That opened  up an interesting can of worms.

We live in a military town - there's an Army base here - and we have more than our share of homeless vets living on the fringes.

We've known people with PTSD.

So a rather contained UPROAR began of how an animal, in particular a dog, can SAVE a homeless person.

To have another being who UNCONDITIONALLY LOVES YOU.

Who NEVER JUDGES YOU.

Who is ALWAYS HAPPY TO BE WITH YOU.



Maybe everyone, but EVERYone needs a dog.

BEING POLITE

I passed a man walking out of a store today, holding a lovely bunch of flowers which he had evidentially just purchased, and I was tempted to comment on them.

Something like lightheartedly exclaiming, "I hope those aren't because you are in trouble with your wife!"

When I suddenly realized that wouldn't at all be politically correct.

And that is NOT a bad thing.


What are the chances he is not actually married? Pretty good, really.

It could be for a girlfriend.

A boyfriend.

Even a husband.

And again, there is nothing at all wrong with me being aware of that.

It's called being polite.

Plain and simple.

LOVE SEES INDIVIDUALS, NOT GROUPS

Chieko Okazaki was a member of the General Relief Society Presidency a few years back, and she has said some great things - here is one I came across in preparation for my lesson today:

Sometimes our love is impatient. We want quick answers and hasty solutions. Sometimes we feel such urgency that we would violate the free agency of others. This is not a mistake that our Heavenly Father and Jesus make. Their love is deep and powerful but it is also a patient love. For every Paul struck down on the road to Damascus, for every Alma the Younger who is rebuked by an angel, there are hundreds who are allowed to go on choosing and choosing and choosing, until a series of choices gradually leads them to make the right choice and the hunger of their spirits for the Holy Spirit makes the gospel sweet to them.

The older I get, the more I come to acknowledge this truth.

IN THE SERVICE OF MY GOD

From www.facebook.com/MormonMeditations

"If you’re involved with relationship with parents or children, instead of saying I can’t do spiritual practices because I have children,


 
you say my children are my spiritual practice. If you’re traveling a lot, your traveling becomes your yoga.



You start to use your life as your curriculum for coming to God. 



You use the things that are on your plate, that are presented to you. 

So that relationships, economics, psychodynamics—all of these become grist for the mill of awakening. 


They all are part of your curriculum." - Ram Dass



I've been mentally (and verbally) griping all week about my brother.

Griping about the amount of service I have been giving him, and feeling unappreciated.



I keep forgetting something essential.

I am not just in the service of my brother, I am in the service of my God.

PREJUDICE IS PREJUDICE

This article was posted on Facebook by an group I follow:

http://progressivepopulist.org/2013/10/02/incredible-letter-from-grandfather-to-his-daughter-after-she-kicks-out-his-gay-grandson/

This bothers me. A lot.

Take a moment to read the ENTIRE letter from the grandfather below:

I'm sorry, this is just as stupid, it just as narrow-minded and ignorant as kicking the boy out of the house for being gay! Yes, our children make choices that we may not approve of - but they are still our children.

And being bigoted and narrow-minded in one respect does NOT justify repaying that with YOU being bigoted and narrow-minded.

I hate to see this 'repayment' get lost in the gay-aspect of this situation. BOTH of these actions are narrow-minded, mean, and non-Christ-like in the extreme.

What do you think?

LAPSES IN COMMUNICATION (I.E. OUTER SPACE)

Some people I speak with a couple times a day - my disabled daughter in particular.

Others I chat with every day or so - my other daughter, my horses, my dogs, my older brother.

And then there are the people you see only on Sunday, or at the pharmacy, or when you go up to Tucson.

But I have two sisters whom I speak with, oh, about once a decade.


I've always been envious of families that are close.

Well, let me clarify.

I'm envious of families that are HAPPY and close. There are some that are weld very firmly, but only while in small claims court.

My oldest sister and I have 22 years age between us - neither of my sisters' husbands like me (to put it mildly) - we've just never been close.

My brother and I are only five years apart... and he's been living with us the past year, so....

Anyway, tonight I wrote my closest sister a fairly long letter, bringing her up to date on events in my life lately, especially concerning the aforementioned brother.

And wished that somehow a sheet of paper could do more to join us.

FEELING HAPPY AND LUCKY AND GAY

A common platitude in the LDS church is that our teenagers today were "saved" to live in these perilous times, offering the supportive concept that they are strong enough, unique enough as spirits to withstand all the sin of this time.

(And by this logic, it seems to imply that previous generations were weaker, more easily manipulated, more prone to mistakes - and these are the people passing on these clichés!).

But if our youth are "more valiant", could this perhaps be the reason new and more unique methods of sin are developing?

The pioneers didn't have to worry about internet porn - WWII time-frame wasn't caught up in Twitter mania - every the radical 60's idea of revolt involved only denim, hair that was longer than the collar, and the music we now listen to as soft rock or Muzak in the mall.

And perhaps is this why individuals who are obviously "born" gay are also being 'saved' for today?

I don't know if it's simply because being a homosexual has become more politically correct in the last forty years, and if anyone who was gay in the past then simply remained very much stuffed in their closet by public pressure.

When I was growing up, I do remember some bachelors who had great taste in fashion - there were a couple of tough ladies who lived together - and it seemed that in most grades there was one effeminate boy who got picked on a lot.

So why today does it seem to be so many young men who simply stand out as gay - the slim build, the good looks (yes, it is true; every handsome man is either married or gay), the tone of voice, the dressing standard - even in very traditional LDS families? And not as many, but some young women simply don't want to deal with men, but with another woman?

I propose a theory.

As the LDS church teaches it, we are brought here to earth in order to gain a mortal body, to be tested and tried, and to learn the lessons necessary for us to return and live in Heavenly Father's presence for eternity.

And, as I was explaining to my older brother the other day, we are subject to periods of illness or our 'declining' years perhaps not as a test for ourselves as much as a chance for those around us, responsible for us, to prove their character in caring for us.

Might not this be an opportunity for those of us around these 'potential' gay youth to show/learn respect for others, tolerance and love for those who may not agree with us? Could these 'choice spirits' be the ones who aren't sent here to learn, but are sent here for US to learn? And accept? And love?

HEAD OVER HEELS

HORSE OF THE ROMAN GODS

When asked what breed my very first horse, Sherman, was, I would reply, "Clydesdale and Shetland Pony... and no one would question it.

He was barely above 14 hands, but with HUGE feathered hoofs and a black mane cascading over his proud thick neck.


So I guess I've always had a thing for draft horses.




A girl named Alexis at our barn would always be galloping off on her Shire - a tiny figure on top of this mammoth thundering mass.


And there I was, at 5'9", with my feet almost touching the ground as I followed with my little pony/draft cross.


But now my husband, who is NOT a horse person, has fallen in love with a draft horse.

It may be a momentary infatuation - a passing fancy - but I think it may a little bit more.

And these guys have nothing to do with anything in this blog, but aren't they cool?

INFATUATION OR LOVE? AND WHO CARES?

I have lost my heart... once again.

I do have as a personal resolution to fall in love at least once a day.

Think about it - remember how you felt the last time you fell in love? How wonderful you felt, how beautiful the world became, how perfect the person you loved was? Colors were brighter, the songs on the radio became 'your' song(s), you felt so beautiful?

Well, why not feel that way all the time?

Now, I'm married, and very sold on monogamy (is that marriage to one person or a type of wood?), and I don't want to ever have a romantic relationship/ affair/ liaison with any other man... or woman, either, I guess, in today's progressive world.

But I can fall in love with the purple and yellow blossoms on the cactus right outside my front door - I can be infatuated with Starbucks Double-Chocolate Chip Frappuccino - I can dance around when I see the awesome reds, purples and oranges of the sunset behind the Huachuca Mountains.

Why not?

And this week I fell in love with a vacuum cleaner.

I have had a standard-run-of-the-mill-on-sale-at-Sears vacuum cleaner for years, but it is now demanding more and more attention, muscle to move around (is it getting heavier or am I simply getting weaker?)  and dirt- bags it's particular size which are becoming more and more difficult to locate at local stores (a sales technique, I know - wasn't it just a few days again that VHS was still 'the' thing?).

So I bought a new run-of-the-mill-on-sale-at-Target vacuum cleaner .

And promptly fell head over heels (which makes no sense as an expression - I mean, you are head over heels right now, aren't you?) with it's lighter weight, double the rpm or hertz or amps (whatever the correct term is) and easily-changed attachments that actually WORK.

Okay, so perhaps my expectations are small - but it is a great feeling.

MY SON, MY SON, WOULD GOD I HAD DIED FOR THEE, MY SON

My dog went to the vet's early this morning for some routine dental work.

And came home late late this evening unable to move his tongue or his back legs.

He's going to be fine - but he has had most of this teeth removed, he is still bleeding from one side of his mouth, and he is moaning with almost every breath he takes.

The feeling of deja vu for me is overwhelming.

When my daughter was six or seven, she had to have eight teeth removed surgically. And I could not convince her to take the pain medication when I brought her home - so in about two hours, she was in severe pain.

It's so difficult to see someone suffering when they have no concept of why they are in such agony.

And tonight, driving home with my dog's head in my lap, trying to comfort him and also drive a stick-shift for 21 miles, I had a spiritual insight.

This is what God feels like, most of the time.

He loves us, so completely, and continually sees us in pain, hurting, without any real idea of why we are suffering.

And He wants so much to tell us, "It's just for a moment! It's going to end really soon! It's going to be okay!" And He listens to us whimpering and moaning and wallowing, not understanding that the hurt is just temporary, it's going to leave, and we will gain something from it.

Murray will be pain-free from his teeth that have been hurting him for a long time. But he certainly doesn't understand that right now. And all my reassurances in the world aren't helping.

Heavenly Father, I'll try to be more patient next time when I am hurting, and attempt to trust You more.