Assets and Liabilities

Walking around the park this morning I was pondering the words of the prophet Ammon in the Book of Mormon as he was rejoicing in the Lord and as he described the challenges that they faced, but also the success they had found.  As I listened to him declare his love for the Lord I asked myself, “Amber, are you an asset or a liability to the Lord?”

That was a loaded question.

As much as I wanted to say, “I’m an asset in the Lord’s battalion!,” my heart was a little more honest. I had that internal shrug and I thought to myself, how I wish I were a little more on the side of asset and and little less of a liability. How easily I succumb to the frailties of man and how often God drags me through life in a manner I’m not proud of.

Another conversation entered my mind from a class I had recently attended.  One of the class members spoke about the experience of a boss and his employee.  Imagine one of your employees made a mistake that caused your business to lose a substantial amount of money- thousands maybe hundreds of thousands of dollars.  Do you fire that employee or do you keep them on your team?  What they have done was an extremely costly mistake for your business, but could losing them cost you more?  Do you take the risk of hiring a new employee with the realization that they may in turn make the same mistake and again cost you substantial loss, OR do you capitalize on what they have learned by way of experience?  Have they now become one of your greatest assets, whose worth is incalculable to the success of your team because of their liability?

With truthful admittance I found myself feeling much like the disappointing employee... but a loving Father reminded me of how great His plan is.  We come to earth to have a hard time.  We come to earth to fail.  We come to earth to gut wrenchingly succumb to our weaknesses over and over and over again.  We come to earth to disappoint people.  We come to earth to be surrounded by darkness that feels like it won’t lift, and temptations that rock our core and we lose.  But God’s plan doesn’t stop at what is lost, He sent a Savior- who’s first miracle ever recorded was a miracle of transformation... that of turning water to wine.  Through His love and infinite atonement, our water- that which oft times feels like a medium of drowning, is changed into wine- a symbol of the miracle of His atoning sacrifice.  It is our liabilities that give us worth because of the power they hold to bear witness of Him.

Joseph Smith was in the grips of a force of darkness just before the heavens opened to him.  Just before being nearly consumed by the darkness, God the Father appeared to him.  Those wrestling moments ushered in the dispensation of the fullness of times when Joseph would become one of God’s greatest assets.  So too must must we have dark moments which in turn become incalculable assets.

So today I am thankful for a merciful plan.  And for the first miracle- 

“So Jesus came again into Cana of Galilee, where he made the water wine.”

May His miracle come again, and again and again to all of us, His hallowed liabilities.

Life Rumblings

Adam and Zach sifted ashes for hours searching for remains in one of the hundreds of homes that burned to the ground in a local wildfire.

Loving the mask Grammy made ❤

Partners in crime, our up and coming suctioning extraordinaire

Five in the bed and you can only imagine what the little one said.

By far the fiercest expression of Jonathan and I’s synergistic gene pool... we are seeing genes we never knew existed.

Frog find after church. 

Presiding Presence

 

The principle of the power of the priesthood to preside in our homes was molded differently in my mind these past few weeks.  

Matthew (ALL too similar to his father) got a bee in his bonnet to build a new rabbit hutch.  The idea had taken root and he was 100% determined to see to it.  All on his own, he found a set of hutch plans, mapped needed supplies, and commenced building.  99% completed, there arose one sticky impasse.  A question regarding tar paper under the shingles.  Unsettled about how to proceed, Matthew came inside to seek the presiding presence of his father.  He knew successful completion would come with the help of his dad.  He sought counsel, a decision was made, and the project seamlessly found itself coming to completion.

 

Not many days after, while tube feeding Jonathan, I listened in on the conversation between he and Adam. Adam was writing out his very first check from his personal checking account.  Asking his Dad who to make it out to, how to write it properly, the amount to make it out for, how to send it in, I realized Jonathan was helping Adam fund his first investment account.  Following his father's counsel, Adam had been reading about investing, worked like a slave to acquire a little nest egg, and was ready to invest his hard work.  Jonathan, using only the subtle movement of his eyes, was coaching his son toward manhood.

And now to pre-teen testosterone, Andrew.  A bit sassy and Corona virus cooped up, Andrew was summoned to practice the piano.  Jonathan was a silent observer to Andrew's pitiful attempt at practicing.  He put his foot down, (mind you with just the motion of his eyes) called Andrew out on his lack of effort, and added additional practice time.  A typical pre-teen snappy brawl began.  Jonathan with nothing but his eyes to hen-peck a message vs. the 11 year old with hair beginning to find its way onto his upper lip.  It got heated, it got ugly, and unruly Andrew found himself grounded for the next week.  Oh, the injustice!  Oh, the howling!  Oh, the pain of being born into the WORST family on earth!  But, with only subtle eye movement, the punishment had been set.  A few days passed and spite turned to recognition of wrong and then acceptance.  While the rest of the family was off playing with friends, Andrew found himself bored at home, which led to baking chocolate chip cookies, keeping watch over his Dad's ventilator, suctioning when needed, and catching a few episodes of "Monk" along side the man in the wheelchair. 

Nearing the end of his week long grounding, Jonathan called Andrew to his computer screen.  He knew Andrew was preparing to complete the cycling merit badge and had 60 and 100 mile rides planned with nothing more than a dilapidated, bicycle shaped chunk of metal to get it done.  Knowing this, Jonathan had picked out a really nice bicycle for Andrew on his computer and simply asked him which color he wanted.  Andrew, shocked that he was getting a new bike, was a bit speechless.  He picked out a color and then was quiet.  He came and sat next to me on the couch and asked, "Mom, why is Dad buying me a bike?"  I explained to him that his Dad loved him.  I said, "Andrew, Dad wants you to become a man.  He knows how badly you want to complete the cycling merit badge and he wants nothing more than to see you be successful.  He wants to give you every tool he can so you can succeed.  That is the same reason he grounded you.  Because he loves you.  He knows the potential that lies within you and he wants you to become the man God intended you to be.  He grounded you, because he loves you.  He bought you a bike, because he loves you.  He wants you to become something more than you already are.  He's giving you the tools to become it."

It was his seemingly simple, mundane interactions with my three sons that bore witness of the power of the priesthood in our lives. This is a man that with almost nothing physically left intact chooses to magnify his priesthood.  A man that bears his witness every single day of the power of a father to preside, even if it looks like nothing more than the subtle movement of his eyes.  This is a man that sacrifices greatly and endures much. This is a man that without complaint does everything in his power to build up the kingdom of God in his very own home.  This is a man that recognizes the calling of father can be magnified regardless of how little it appears one can give.  This is a man that continues to be blessed with a presence to preside.

“Mom, I know how Dad is going to die.”

“...Spiritually defining memories from our book of life are like luminous stones that help brighten the road ahead.” 

-Neil L. Anderson. 

This post is a stone I want to retrieve from my pocket and hold over and over again.

Several months ago I was approached by the red headed, freckle faced, 5 year old.  Munching my lunch, I got this comment: 

“Mom, I know how Dad is going to die.”
 “Really?” I replied. “How?”

“You know, like on Minions. Yep, that’s how Dad is going to die.”

The first thing that came to my mind was little yellow creatures holding freeze ray lasers, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t freeze ray that would be taking his Dad out.”

“You know Buddy, I really don’t remember Minions very well.  How is Dad going to die?”

“You know,” using gestures because Minions wasn’t ringing a bell for me.  “When people die, they put them in a... suitcase. It can open and close.  Ya, that is how Dad is going to die.”

“Ahhhh!”  The light bulb went off in my momma mind.    “Some people call those a casket, but you are 100% correct.  When Dad dies, we are going to put him in a suitcase and send him right back to Heavenly Father.”

They will never again be caskets in my heart, only heaven bound suitcases.

Fast forward a few weeks and we took a trip to Idaho.  I was lying on the bed next to Jonathan listening to his ventilator hum as the cool Idaho air flowed in the window.  I could hear my littles tromping down the stairs giddy with the smell of breakfast cooking.  I didn’t budge.  I knew Grandma and Grandpa had the morning covered.  It felt sooooo good to be home.  It felt celestial to be in my parents presence, familiar and peaceful, it was home.

As I laid there loving so much the feeling of being home, I was overcome with joy at the thought of Jonathan returning to our heavenly home. Just like squealing kids packing their suitcase with exuberant excitement for a trip, so will Jonathan’s journey home be for him.  Whenever we have traveled near or far, he has always been the first one in the motel room opening and exploring every door or drawer, reading every pamphlet and soaking in his surroundings.  My mind saw him racing through heaven leaving no stone unturned to see what had changed since the last time he had been there.  I laid there next to him crying and laughing because I was so excited for his adventure when his “suitcase” was packed and he was headed home and how good it would feel!

I don’t anticipate that moment is coming any too soon, thank heavens.  But when it does, I hope I can put my hand in my pocket and wrap my hand around this luminous stone.  And with the joy I felt in that moment, embrace the brightened path that will carry me to the time that I pack my own suitcase, and go home to join him.