Showing posts with label where i live. Show all posts
Showing posts with label where i live. Show all posts

Sunday, February 25, 2018

Irrigation Illustration

I was asked to speak on how we can receive personal revelation through the scriptures. 
What ever our questions are, what ever trials or joys we are experiencing, we can receive personal revelation through the scriptures, that is just that, personal. In 2 Nephi 31:3  it says: “For the Lord God giveth light unto the understanding; for he speaketh unto men according to their language, unto their understanding.” God knows us and loves us and only wants the best for us. He never speaks just to hear the words come out of his mouth, he speaks directly to each of us, through the power of the Holy Ghost, in a way we can understand and act.


To illustrate how this principle can work in our lives, I’d like to share an illustration…we’ll call it an Irrigation illustration. Now, just to clarify, for all of you Indianaian’s, irrigation is an activity that is required to grow crops when your total annual rainfall is less than what Indiana sees in a week. Such was the life on the farm where I grew up in Southern Idaho. I was introduced to the joy of moving irrigation pipe at a young age and though I always seemed to be the smallest on the crew, I was determined to never be last in finishing my lines, so I worked my tail off  lifting the pipes which were often full of water, letting them drain, then racing 60 feet down the field to and reconnect the section of pipe in a straight line then running back to get the next one. It turned into a game of sorts with some interesting competitions and prizes….but I digress…The point here today is that the irrigation pipes provided a “simple” means by which the entire field could receive water. This was my job for over 8 years and by the time I graduated from high school and headed out into the big wide world, we joked that I already had my pipe moving degree, and indeed, from the work, fun and lessons learned moving pipe, I felt like I could conquer anything.


Fast forward 14 years and I found myself standing in the middle of my own field. Just a small 4 acre field in the middle of Colorado, but I was excited to get back to my farming roots and I needed some serious irrigation to make this happen. Irrigation…I totally got this. But. In this particular part of  Colorado, there were no shiny irrigation pipes to move neatly across the field, evenly sprinkling water to all parts of the field. Here, irrigation came only 3 times a year and for me, lasted a mear 28 hours. Flood irrigation was the only option and a totally new experience for me. When it was my turn at the ditch, the water ran down a large pipe at the top of my field, and it was up to me to open up a series of small gates in that pipe to let the water flow into different sections of my field. So, on day one, I opened the gates, waited to make sure the pressure was right and everything was working correctly, then went back inside to attend to my house work. A few hours later I went back out to the field to see how things were progressing. As I walked up through my field the first thing I noticed was that it was still dry. Where was my water? Looking up my field, I could clearly see the water still flowing into my field…where was it all going? It took a little investigating, but I soon discovered that my field was not the gentle slop that I originally saw, but was full of dips and slants that I hadn’t first noticed. Much of my water was following a zig zag pattern, flowing aimlessly across my field. Then I looked across the fence into my neighbors property and saw a couple random wet spots….where in the world was that water coming from? I solved the mystery by following the flow of the water to where it suddenly disappeared…. down a gopher hole, only to reappear in the middle of my neighbors horse corral. I was in trouble and I knew it.  I went to work, trying to fill in gopher holes, and creating small ditches for water to reach different parts of my field. By the time my 28 hours were up, I was completely exhausted and a solid 2/3rds of my field remained dry. I had all the water a girl could need, but I had not provided a place for it to go.


Brothers and sisters, I believe we have a loving father in Heaven who speaks to us often, with  words of guidance, warning and comfort, and yet many of us continue to walk through a lonely dessert, parched for personal revelation. 

President Spencer W. Kimball made this observation, “I find that when I get causal in my relationships with divinity and when it seems that no divine ear is listening, and no divine voice is speaking, that I am far, far away. If I immerse my self in the scriptures, the distance narrows and the spirituality returns and I find myself loving more intensely.”


If you want hear that divine voice in your life, if you want to grow spiritually, if you want to love more intensely, the scriptures provide the means to make that happen, but if you want that living water to reach all parts of your spiritual field, you must create a place for it to go. 


After my first irrigation disaster, I noticed my neighbors fields that had set furrows running the length of their field. So I went to work and with some help from a neighbor, I created furrows that stretched from my water gates all the way to the opposite end of the field. I worked tirelessly with my dog and some local snakes to eradicate the gophers and was ever vigilant against the destructive prairie dog. I created a place for the water to go, and that is where it went. We have a literal flood of knowledge and revelation waiting for us inside the scriptures, but we must provide a place for it to go. 


President Benson taught this about the Book of Mormon: 
“We learn that as we covenant with Christ and structure our lives with keeping his commandments his peace flows into all areas of our lives.” 


 Commandments are blessings that allow the spirit of God to flow into our lives. In psalms 119 it says, “Let thy tender mercies come unto me, that I may live: for thy law is my delight.” (psalm 119:77)  This law is found in the scriptures and they are meant to be a delight.  Building solid scripture study habits provides a place for the living water of Christ to enter our lives and the lives of our family. But it’s hard work. Here’s how our family scripture reading sometimes goes. 

Hey kids, time for scriptures.., please, yes, you need to come now, no, we can’t skip it tonight. Take a break from your homework that you just conveniently started as I called scripture study…stop yelling please, refrain from cussing while your holding your scriptures….hurry, just read, read a verse…maybe two….do you have your scriptures? Here, share with me, read a verse? Alma is not found on Instagram….can you please open your scriptures? shhhh, read a verse…that’s stripling warriors, not stripping…there’s an important difference….just read…

and then the chapter is over, kids are off to bed and the water disappears down the gopher hole. 

But sometimes…sometimes, things align and and sometimes we make a little more time, and sometimes questions are asked and prayers are answered and sometimes….something soaks in. But you can’t just leave it up to chance, there is a pattern to follow in irrigation and receiving personal revelation. First Act in faith. It truly takes a lot of faith to continue the practice of family scripture study, but as we do, our children will come to expect it and learn from experience that the guidance found in the scriptures can be a deep source of inspiration. As we actively apply the scripture truths in our lives, they will learn that of the many good books and sources of information out there, this is the best book. They will come to learn that in these stories, verse by verse, patterns of eternal truth are taught. As we act in faith and develop a habit for our own personal study as well, the living water of the gospel has the ability to reach the far corners of our lives.
President Benson made this promise: 
It is not just that the Book of Mormon teaches us truth, though it indeed does that. It is not just that the Book of Mormon bears testimony of Christ, though it indeed does that, too. But there is something more. There is a power in the book which will begin to flow into your lives the moment you begin a serious study of the book. You will find greater power to resist temptation. You will find the power to avoid deception. You will find the power to stay on the strait and narrow path. The scriptures are called “the words of life” (D&C 84:85), and nowhere is that more true than it is of the Book of Mormon. When you begin to hunger and thirst after those words, you will find life in greater and greater abundance.” end quote

After I had prepared a place for my water to go, I discovered another problem. Yes, the water would go where I wanted it to, in fact, it went there very quickly, and taking me by surprise, even ran wasted into the street or my basement.  Sure my entire field was wet, but it all happened so quickly there wasn’t time for the water to soak deep and a lot was wasted. Over time, I learned to alternate the parts of the field I was watering, to let the water run over it once, give it a rest and then cover it again. I even alternated with a neighbor, allowing every last drop time to soak in. 

I remember vividly the first time I really took the time to let the word of God soak into my life. As part of the seminary council in high school I had been asked to travel around our stake and speak in the different wards about seminary. I had given talks before, but it had always been about just getting it done. I felt that this should be different. I wanted to share the truth I knew in my heart, but I didn’t know how to explain it. I followed the example of my parents and went to my scriptures.  I prayed and studied. I was lead to Alma 32 and the topic of faith. I was familiar with this passage, but as I read it this time, seeking for personal witness, I was indeed taught deeper meaning and application on how faith worked in my life. Still today, I will return to this chapter and find guidance and peace in it’s comfortable cadence. 

It was no coincidence that this first big drink of mine was accompanied by prayer and questions. In seminary we are taught not to just ask questions, but to frame them in an eternal perspective. Questions like, Why was this included in the scriptures?  Why is it repeated so often? Who am I in this story? What is the eternal truth being taught, and how can I apply this to my life? If we are really bold, we can follow Pres Uchdorf’s advice  and ask, Lord is it I? And I quote:

May I suggest that the holy scriptures are an effective mirror we can hold up for self-examination.
As you hear or read the words of the ancient and modern prophets, refrain from thinking about how the words apply to someone else and ask the simple question: “Lord, is it I?”
We must approach our Eternal Father with broken hearts and teachable minds. We must be willing to learn and to change. And, oh, how much we gain by committing to live the life our Heavenly Father intends for us.
Those who do not wish to learn and change probably will not and most likely will begin to wonder whether the Church has anything to offer them.
But those who want to improve and progress, those who learn of the Savior and desire to be like Him, those who humble themselves… and seek to bring their thoughts and actions into harmony with our Father in Heaven—they will experience the miracle of the Savior’s Atonement.” 

 When we approach our scriptures this way, when we “ask and expect to be given” when we  “seek knowing we will find” when we knock believing that he is waiting to fling open the door;  Not only will our questions be answered, but we will get answers to questions we don’t know how to ask, “for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered,” (Romans 8:26). This takes us from a study session to worship and communion with our Father in Heaven. Take the time to let it soak in.

 As we learn to hearken to the personal revelation that is offered, more will follow. After a little practice at this new form of irrigation, I got better at it and was able to use all I was given. As this happened, I found that the ditch rider would sometimes call me when he had a little water to spare and ask if I could take more….ummmm YES! If my field was already saturated, I had a huge underground cistern at the bottom of my field. I learned to channel extra water into this cistern for use around the yard, and in my garden.  This pattern and blessing of caring for what we are given is set forth in 2 Ne 28:30
“I will give unto the children of men line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little; and blessed are those who hearken unto my precepts, and lend an ear unto my counsel, for they shall learn wisdom; for unto him that receiveth I will give more; and from them that shall say, We have enough, from them shall be taken away even that which they have.”  

Care for the spiritual revelation you receive and you will be given more. Record it, ponder it, treat it like the sacred gift that it is. Let it lead you deeper into the scriptures. There is always more God wants to tell you….when you are ready. I had a stake president say once, that we should be writing our own scriptures as we receive guidance and inspiration for our lives and our families.  Another way to care for and store up what we receive is to memorize the passages that speak truth to you and then these simple verses will continue to change you. Memorizing will allow you to keep them with you like a good friend. Faster than you can tap a foot note in your digital scriptures, these memorized phrases will pop into your head when you need them the most, lighting your path and comforting your heart and when led by the Spirit, inspiring others.   In Peter 3 it says, “be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you, a reason of the hope that is in you” (Peter 3:15)

I want to close today with the reason of hope which is in me and my specific testimony of the Book of Mormon. I have had the opportunity to get more up close and personal with this book this year than I ever have. It is truth. It is peace. It is hope. And I hear my Heavenly Father’s voice in it’s pages.  

Friday, September 12, 2014

home indeed



The ocean or the mountains;


 I always thought it would be one or the other.

But this…

this sea of trees where the humidity only hides imaginary peaks just out of reach. 

Home is where your rump rests….where your heart is…where your family is…where the soups on…where you park it…where I'm with you…

…home indeed.

No "thing" can make you happy.

Not the right school, not the weather, not a job, not a package in the mail, not the ocean, not the mountains, not even a house. 

I know, because I've been looking for that happy…

…that elusive peak just out of reach.


Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Wordfull Wednesday ~Wack-a-daisical Summer

Writing a summer alliteration sounded so fun, but I ran out of time, so my wonderful, whimsical, wordfull daughter jumped on it. Enjoy!

Wonderful, wonderful summer,



We truly believe as we wade,

Under a cascading waterfall.


And on to a nice warm hug,

Then to watermelon with Welch’s Lemonade we tromp,


After a good, long Sunday walk.


Wishfully thinking of water colored wildflowers,


We trek to Wal-Mart to search,

Only to woefully return empty handed,

To our too warm home for the night.

When we wake up and look outside,

It’s snowing.


Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Begging Morning

I pulled my body from deep slumber's relaxation and dumped it into a pair of  running shoes tied just tight enough. Slogging into a trot I begged the morning to convince me that I had made the right choice. Longing to be under covers snuggled around by strong arms, I inhaled deeper than running demands and glanced at the swelling pink over fenced pasture.

I knew I wouldn't be disappointed.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The Real Joy of Summer

I love summer.

I know, I know, who doesn't? The  lengthened daylight hours seem to attest to summer as a preference for even the Divine. Big trips and family reunions, sprinklers and half naked babies tinted brown, green growth and the intense first bite of tomato.

Oh, and lets not forget....

the weeding and watering, the packing and unpacking, the cleaning, the canning, the cutting the lawn.

Yep, summer is a lot of work too, but I still stand by my first statement. Although work is....well....work, it can also be a lot of fun. I remember as a kid having all sorts of competitions as we worked. Memories of my sister and I beating our "city boy" cousins moving irrigation pipe is a favorite. Or sitting and talking in the shade of our big tree podding a mountain of peas until our fingers were permanently etched in green.

There were other times too. Pulling rye from our field and having my eyes get so itchy and sore I thought I'd go blind. (I guess I should remember that one next time my kids play their own version of that drama card) Or driving tractor alone hour after boring hour. That was not so fun, but I also remember my mom (who can still out work me, by the way) coming in from the garden, weeding done, just as I was pulling my sorry tail out of bed. And my dad coming in from hours longer than mine on the tractor, with only his eyes and teeth showing through the layer of dirt. Not doing what needed done was never an option.

Work is one of the most sincere forms of gratitude. Taking care of what you have been given speaks louder than a million thank yous. When I was in high school, my uncle passed away. I remember a lot of tender moments during the day of his funeral, but the one that I can never forget happened at the very end. After the burial service I was waiting in the car for my parents to finish up and come take me home. I was tired and probably hungry, and had been in a dress all day; summed up, I was being pretty selfish, and wanted to go. Just about then, two of my uncles walked by and one of them mentioned some shovels he had in the back of his truck. What? And then I saw one by one as more shovels appeared and I watched, humbly, as my aunts and uncles shoveled dirt onto the casket and completed this last task for their brother.

Gratitude....stewardship....love...and yes, fun. Work is an essential part of all things good, including true and lasting happiness.

For more thoughts on the value of work: Wordfull Wednesday at Chocolateonmycranium

Here are some pictures from this year's family reunion; which of course included a work project.


A mountain of dead branches from a heavy spring storm, reduced to a pile of chips and fire wood.

No doubt my nephew worked hard...tough kid that one.

Just because they weren't allowed near the heavy machinery doesn't mean they didn't work hard too!

This one's for you, Grandma...and to all the flowers fallen in your absence :)

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Carnal Confession

 

OK, I admit it.

I like pretty things.

IMG_5163

Not that you’d see me dressed up for a run, or even in pantyhose at church, but I do appreciate beauty when I see it.

Have you ever been surprised at where pretty shows up?

I know my morning run will be pretty; even in the dark chill the stars are amazing.

I know the mountains can take my breath away at any given moment…and they jump at the chance.

IMG_0361

I know my kids are adorable (and funny, and smart, and not afraid to use any or all of these traits to get out of trouble).

IMG_5195

But yesterday, I was surprised by the pretty…didn’t see it coming…but I hit my breaks fast to take another look.

IMG_5206

I know, just a truck. I’m not even into trucks…really…

IMG_5207

…or so I thought.

IMG_5209 

But I am jonesing sure would enjoy a drive.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Worm Bin

I have a few new pets.

Make that 1000 new pets.

Plus a few more.

It all started a few years ago when I finally got the garden of my dreams. OK, maybe not THE garden, because that would involve a longer growing season, less wind and violent storms and, well...water, but really...it's pretty dreamy just the way it is. Now, I'm always looking for ways to improve my soil and I couldn't resist the suggestion in one of my very favorite books, "Organic Farming, Everything you Need to Know" by Peter V. Fossel. He suggests starting a worm bin.


Start by drilling holes in the top and bottom of  a plastic 10 gallon tub, and covering it with a screen attached with adhesive calk. The holes in the top are for aeration, the screen is to keep the flys out. The holes in the bottom are for drainage, so you just want a few on one end, and the screen is used to keep the worms in

Next fill it with rotten hay, soaked shredded cardboard, straw...basic compost material, and add about 500 red wigglers. Set it on a shelf about 12" off the ground (in a shed or barn or something). Set it up so that the drainage holes are all over a funnel leading down to an old milk jug. I found an old board with holes in it almost the exact size as my funnels. Every so often add some more kitchen scraps, keep it damp, and the result should be worm tea. It's supposed to work wonders for new transplants.


So, I ordered my red wigglers, and drilled some holes and set it up in the barn. I already have some lovely dark liquid leaking out into my milk jugs, and just today when I went to feed my pets, I noticed a tiny little baby worm; they should double in number every three months and so you can expand your operation or just add the extra worms to your compost pile, lawn, or garden. They don't like to be too crowded, so you do need to do something with the offspring.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Finding my schedule....


I love spring break. Nothing went as planned and it was perfect.

180/1000

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Noisy Run


Gaggle, cackle, swaking geese.
In pairs and flocks of new feathered
waddling feet.

Chitter chatter gabbing girls.
Warmed by sun and blood pumped by
running feet.

129/1000

Friday, February 5, 2010

The Dare

It was cold this morning,
running in the half light of the moon.

It's winter, I know, it's supposed to be cold...but there was something in the wind

the cold wind
that felt like a breeze...something springish.


It's supposed to snow on Sunday, but I couldn't resist. I fed the animals in my shirtsleeves grinning at the not-so-slanted sun...
and dared it to be spring.


Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Chickens

The idea of keeping chickens always sounded like a good one. Such a down to earth, home grown, provident living kind of thing. But I'll admit, I resisted until the end...and with good reason. Some days are so crazy and full that I lose track of my own kids...what chance would a chicken have around here?

So I held out with my excuses of where and how and how much, until sweet neighbors offered a few for free...free is my weakness. The kids were excited, and so was the dog, but still it was me who went out in the cold to feed and water and bring in no eggs.

Little by little they came out of their huddled corner to greet me, and I caught myself staring as they pecked and fluffed and strutted around the yard. Then, on the coldest day, when I was thinking chicken broth would be a good idea, they gave me an egg...and I was hooked.




Sunday, January 31, 2010

Have You Heard?

Is it so strange to feel connected to a tree? Scraggly, hanging bark, mere sticks in the ground..."just part of the yard"...could it be more?

Farmer payers answered with weighty blessings...too much of a good thing? "No, never...but oh, we will miss that tree."

Circled rings, shaded rest, horses, huts and high places. Even before coming alive with giggling grand kids, it was ours.

We stood on branches too thin to grin at the whole world from it's very top, rode it's horse branches and shelled pea mountains in it's shade. We mowed under it's branches as it scratched at bare arms, dozed, laughed and could hardly wait to share it with our kids...adding one more circled ring.

Good times, good memories, and if that was all it would be enough...but I've always felt more...heard more...maybe I'm just feeling sentimental, or waxing poetic, but how do you explain a language to one who has never heard? And if you have, then my words are inadequate.

I have heard whispered peace as I walked under pine boughs...a homesick college girl. I have heard branches beseeching to be climbed every time I ran by, until I finally succumbed, to the surprise of my fiance. I have quietly conversed with willowy treetops as I nursed my babies. I heard live oaks gently awakening my hibernating soul.


Spiritual connection with nature is not a new thought, as Eliza R. Snow wrote of the sacrifice of the Savior, she included the human reactions of the elements.

"The sun in shame withdrew it light!
Earth trembled, and all nature sighed
In dread response, "A God has died!"
~Eliza R. Snow, Behold the Great Redeemer Die

I remember a family grieving for a mountain on fire; more than just fear of lost crops, but the knowledge that a dear friend would never be the same again.

I hear trees, they speak to me, but I believe all nature can encourage, comfort and lift our eyes heavenward; visual symbols of reaching branches and elevated mountain peaks or simple words of praise only our hearts can understand, it is all a simple conversation of gratitude, dependence and love...just waiting to be had.



". . . as long as there are movement and harmony, there are words."~Shannon Hale

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Why Unexpected?

My poinsettias were beautiful last year. Maybe because they were alive....I usually kill them off at least a week before Christmas.

Not only did they survive Christmas with splendor, they continued to grow into the spring. They lost their red leaves, seeming to know that fresh green growth matches spring better than the deep red...blood red.
The whole time I assumed they would bloom again. I imagined their beauty accenting perfectly the feeling of the season. I was relieved I wouldn't have to buy more this year.

Two weeks til Christmas and they, still with green leaves, sat in my window while I googled. Did you know that a poinsettia requires twelve hours of darkness each night for six weeks, in order to bloom? Not just dimness, but complete darkness, uninterrupted.

I didn't know.

I should have planned ahead. Along with water and fresh soil, sunlight and minimized drafts; I should have studied, I should have known.

Christmas Eve was all it should be. Laughter and excitement, quiet moments and reflection. I looked up over my children's heads, and then, looked again.

Really?

On Christmas Eve?

Undeserved and so unexpected, but there it was.

I walked across the room, I needed closer inspection; the deep crimson leaves, small but leaving no doubt, were pushing their way out, ringing the petite yellow bloom.



Christmas miricle?
I think so.
Really not so unique to the season though. The sheading of outgrown beauty, warm sunshine growth, long...prolonged night darkness, beauty renewed.
I should have known.


holy experience

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Stubborn Beauty


This tree has caught my eye all week. It's our cherry tree that we planted just over a year ago. While all the other trees are busy undressing, preparing for winter bed, it stands defiant; clinging to it's autumn negligee, refusing to go unnoticed.

Yesterday, as the sun lay low, I could resist no longer. Putting my house on self-pilot, I grabbed my camera and ran out to catch the last bit of light glowing through it's leaves before the early winter dim cooled the show.

I spent the night up and down with sick kids and once, as I again sought slumber, I thought about the tree and connected. This was not just any tree.
This was her tree.

Snow blew in hard through the night and covered the still covered tree beautifully, and I smile.


Three trees were planted to visually remind that they are still close; roots mingled in our soil and branches reaching to the sun.


The kids laughed and named this one Audrey, after the youngest.
She was stubborn just like her mom.



Ongoing gratitude list, #5.
Related Posts with Thumbnails