More, Savior, Like Thee

Originally written September 11, 2004

Three years ago, I watched with the rest of the world as the hate of some men brought down the Twin Towers and destroyed the lives of many people and families in one life shaking event.

The morning had started out crazy as most morning are in a house with four little people. Our fourth child had been born three weeks earlier. I was not completely recovered from that experience and I was sleep deprived like most moms of new babies. That morning, I busily tried to get all four of the kids dressed and out the door for my daughter's second dance class which started at 9:15 MDT.

About 8:45 the phone rang. My dear friend in Texas, Kelly, called to let me know that something big was happening. To be honest, I didn't really have the time or the emotional strength to care. We talked for a few minutes while I finished dressing everyone and then out the door the kids and I went. We arrived at dance only a few minutes late and then I took time to breathe and figure out what was going on back East.

I remember turning on the van radio and listening to Peter Jennings talk about these planes that had flown into buildings. My brain struggled to wrap around and truly understand this momentous disaster. At that point, I'm not sure that many of us in the country really understood what was going on. The other early memory that I have is of running into Idaho Camera to drop off 35mm film to be developed. They had a television on there. I saw footage of the planes flying into the towers and the towers collapsing.

Then I went home. My oldest had afternoon kindergarten. I got him lunch and kept watching the coverage of the terrorist attack. It was surreal. I remember seeing the planes crash into the buildings over and over and still it didn't seem possible that anyone could get on a plane and fly it, themselves, and hundreds of innocent people to their deaths purposely. I saw the footage of the towers coming down. The dust and debris rolling endlessly. I saw people crying and staring. Still my mind couldn't comprehend this huge tragedy caused completely by human hate.

In the days that followed I tried, with the rest of the country to understand what had just happened. I also slipped, like many others, into a fog of depression. I wasn't doing very well physically and emotionally to begin with. The fourth baby's birth had been a bit of a surprise right from the beginning. Then when he arrived, the rest of the family started into a bought of stomach and intestinal flu. Tad was the only one to escape the sickness, and he tried his best to keep us all going,  and while he was able to take some time off work still pulled at him too.

It had been a busy and rough three weeks of struggle right up to September 11, and I wasn't in any shape to deal with the emotions that a major terrorist attach on my country brought into my life. But I had no choice in the matter.

I spent several weeks walking around wondering why, such a terrible thing had happened and trying to find the energy to work through it and move on emotionally. About the end of September, I came out of the fog induced by pregnancy, child birth, sickness, and terrorist disasters. Finally I began to be able to deal with life and process the events that occurred in Pennsylvania,Washington DC, and most of all New York.

Through the ensuing months, I began to be able to consider the events of September 11th and the thousands of years of history that lead up to them. Yet, I still don't feel satisfied and settled.

Nothing on earth, created by mankind, can fix the holes that hate rips. Nothing can truly help me understand how men and women harboring that much hate could be raised and allowed to unleash that searing hate on the world. I do not understand how there can be mothers and fathers in the world, so wrapped up in their own beliefs, culture, and selves that they could be intentionally cruel to people they don't even know in such a final way.

I simple don't understand that way of thought. And I feel pretty powerless before it's fury.

But I have determined that I can do something. Perhaps it is very small, but I feel sure in its own way, it is powerful.

I can love others, one person at a time. I can teach my children, and other children about caring for others. I can continue a quest in myself and others to move forward toward understanding and love of others even when we don't agree or even accept what they stand for. Other people have intrinsic worth. I can teach and show respect for that eternal principle.

Humans have faults. Humans are all different. Humans just won't always agree, but they can still find a way to value something in another human as small as that something might appear.

I can be a positive influence for good in the lives of others. I can value the people I call Children of God; in other words, everyone. And I can smile at people. It takes very little effort to smile, but it does so much good for so many people.

On September 11, 2001, so much was destroyed through hate. I may never in my whole life touch as many people as those few men did in their moments of angry destruction, but I am going to continue to move forward with love anyway. I am going to continue smiling at people, continue plucking the unkind and unworthy thoughts from my mind, continue striving to be a builder instead of a basher.

I add my voice to that of Phillip Paul Bliss, the write and composer of More Holiness Give Me:

More holiness give me,

More strivings within,

More patience in suff'ring,

More sorrow for sin,

More faith in my Savior,

More sense of his care,

More joy in his service,

More purpose in prayer.

More gratitude give me,

More trust in the Lord,

More pride in his glory,

More hope in his word,

More tears for his sorrows,

More pain at his grief,

More meekness in trial,

More praise for relief.

More purity give me,

More strength to o'ercome,

More freedom from earth-stains,

More longing for home.

More fit for the kingdom,

More used would I be,

More blessed and holy--

More, Savior, like thee.

Getting Over the Bar

Yesterday I recounted my experience Sunday, sitting through a lesson on Making the Sabbath a Delight. I said I didn't remember much of that lesson. That is not completely true. I have several things that I remember. One was the concept that the sacrament is the only ordinanace that members of the LDS church partake of on a weekly basis, more than once in their lifetimes, for themselves. (Credit Cash Hill, bishopric member for saying that one.) That is pretty profound. Maybe I will explore it at a later date.

Another things I remember is the comment from a sister who is far more evolved in the sacrament worship business than I. She said she comes to the sacrament table each week with something that she is working on. Something that she is not good at and needs to improve. Sunday she brought something that she felt that she had worked on for several weeks and accomplished and asked the Lord to let her know if she was done and what she should work on next. And he did give her a new task to work on.

Whoa. That is slightly mind blowing in some ways. Pretty much what I would expect in others. And definitely not what I did Sunday. But maybe someday. Maybe next Sunday. I don't know. I don't actually work quite that way with teh Spirit, so I wouldn't want to commit myself. But it is an interesting thought.

Perhaps more interesting to me was to see everyone coming to the table from a different place. Part of the discussion was about parents of young children and young children. They are having a far different experience during the taking of the sacrament than the sweet sister who is communing with the Sprirt looking for personal guidance. My life has moved passed crying babies, but I was sitting next to a young family and the Pirate Booty was flying. While I never actually had more than one paper airplane fly during sacrament meeting myself. I do remember lots of "quiet" toys and snacks. And they may or may not have actually helped people enjoy the Spirit during the meeting. And that I may or may not have actually gotten much out of any portion of sacrament meeting for years.

So we are coming from different places. EVERY ONE OF US. And we are coming in faith, hoping that Jesus Christ is real and that He has something to give us today.

The Wikipedia article about the Fosbury flop approach to high jumping said these things:

"Combined with the rotation around the jumper's vertical axis produced by the drive leg (think of an ice skater spinning round on the spot) the resulting body position on bar clearance is laid out supine with the body at ninety degrees to the bar with the head and shoulders crossing the bar before the trunk and legs. This gives the Flop its characteristic "backwards over the bar" appearance, with the athlete landing on the mat on their shoulders and back.
Predominantly, athletes using the Flop use a "J" shaped approach where the first three to five strides head in a straight line at ninety degrees to the bar, with the final four to five being run in a curve.Some athletes prefer to run all of their strides in a curve; this is known as a "C" shape approach. This was the approach used by Fosbury himself but can lead to errors and inconsistencies in speed, foot placement, angle of approach and body attitude at take-off.
The "broken" leg (which is thrust into the air first at take-off) is always the nearer leg to the bar. Thus someone who uses a left foot take-off (where the left foot transmits the jump force and is the latter to leave the ground) will approach the bar from its right hand side, curving to their left so that the bar approaches their right shoulder. The right leg will drive into the air and the jumper's body rotates anti-clockwise around the vertical axis to present their back to the bar in flight."

 In other words-- 

·         The athletes lose sight of the bar at some point and go over backwards, on faith.

·         Athletes mostly use the J shaped approach, but the approach can and does vary from athlete to athlete. 

·         The decision on which side you run from depends on your dominant leg thrust: Ie. who you are deep inside 

So what does this have to do with my day on Sunday?

Not much -- No actually a lot.

My thoughts during that third hour meeting went to the fact that we are all different. We all approach God differently because of our culture and life experiences. Our understanding and experience with the sacrament will be different and that experience will change over time. And we need to not judge anyone who is coming to table regardless of where they are coming from or who they are. Even if they are ourselves.

A story from my sister in law, Cheryl--

Several years ago when she and her husband Gavin lived near Capitol Hill in Washington DC, a young man was baptized into their highly diverse ward. This young man was of African American decent. He came to Christ and was baptized and then continued in faith coming to sacrament meeting dressed in his best. 

His determined his best based on his previous life experience. His best was a fancy royal blue workout suit, heavy chains/necklaces, and an important accessory for every young man, ear phones. (I imagine those earphones as huge and white. I have no idea if that is actual, but it is my mental picture.)

In the lesson I am trying to create here, this young man had entered the gospel high jump event with many more experienced LDS high jumpers. They knew more, had done more and generally had their J approach down. 

He was running a different approach. Maybe it was a C approach. Maybe it was a full frontal, headlong assault. Regardless, it was different and it was shocking for these more seasoned members.

He became the topic of Elder's Quorum Presidency meetings and Ward Council meetings. Should they tell him to stop with the blue jump suit, etc.?

Now it is important to know that as I expressed above, not everybody comes into the high jump from the same side. There is a basic formula that has been agreed upon as the best approach, at this point in the sporting event, but depending on who you are that approach might come from the left or from the right. 

For the sake of this story, we will say that most of the people were following the more prevalent approach which, at least at the middle school level, came from the right. They seemed to think that somebody ought to tell this kid to get with the program and find a white shirt, conservative slacks, a tie, and lose the rest.

My brother in law, Gavin, who tends to approach from the left, disagreed. He thought they should just love the kid and let him observe for a while. Eventually he would come to an understanding that showing reverence to God does often involves your dress and grooming and perhaps an outfit that helped him blend in more with everyone else, might detract less from the main purpose of the meeting, the sacrament. 

Gavin hoped that his suggestion would prevail, because he did not want to offend this young man. He wanted him to know Christ, and chose himself to follow the standards and teaching of the Savior's gospel. 

Apparently that approach was followed, because it took a few weeks for things to change, but they did change. The earphones (could we call them worldliness that we each bring to the table whether anyone sees it as obviously as those headphones or not?) disappeared. The outfit changed. Soon the only thing that was holding this young man apart from many of the other members at the sacrament table, was the large crucifix hanging around his neck as he blessed the sacrament.

Cheryl and Gavin moved before they learned what happened with the young man and his cross. But they hope that he was loved. Maybe an Elder's Quorum President became close enough to suggest that the approach might be better without the cross. Maybe the Spirit suggested it. Maybe somebody was rude and told him off. Maybe he is still blessing the sacrament in a crucifix.

The point is we are all at different places approaching the Savior. If we are trying, He is allowing the approach. He wants us all. He wants us on our good days. He wants us on our bad days. He just wants us to keep jumping over the bar.

And when we have mastered one height. He asks that we move it a little higher. And pretty much every time if we are going to actually get over the bar we are going backwards. On faith.