Being Lifted Up

 Sometimes a new point of view is instructive. 

Today was the first time my family has been able to go to the temple together since my son was ordained a priest. He was able to baptize me. Though I have performed the ordinance of baptism many, many times, I haven’t been baptized in the temple since I was 15 or 16. Since then I’ve always done the baptizing.

I first baptized my son. Then, with some awkwardness, my son and I switched places. He raised his arm to the square and said the appropriate words. As I have instructed my kids when I baptized them, I sat down first and then leaned back into the water.  As I was going under, I reflected on the symbols of baptism, and the significance of my son performing the ordinance.  I was under water as a symbol of death and rebirth. I was underwater as physical demonstration of my commitment to follow Christ and help others. It was about this point when I realized my predicament and a bit of panic set in.

I realized that I couldn’t stand up on my own. I needed my son to help lift me up, out of the water.

The irony washed over me. At the moment I had been pondering my covenant to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, pondering who I might be able to help – I found myself in need of saving. I was in over my head, and I needed my son, acting in a priesthood position, to lift me up.

I think, perhaps, this is the grand lesson of life. I need the savior to lift me up from sorrows and heartache, from sin, and eventually from mortality. Christ was lifted up that I might be lifted up. I can't do it alone. Being "lifted up" took on a much more significant meaning. 

14 And my Father sent me that I might be lifted up upon the cross; and after that I had been lifted up upon the cross, that I might draw all men unto me, that as I have been lifted up by men even so should men be lifted up by the Father…

15 And for this cause have I been lifted up; therefore, according to the power of the Father I will draw all men unto me...

20 Now this is the commandment: Repent, all ye ends of the earth, and come unto me and be baptized in my name, that ye may be sanctified by the reception of the Holy Ghost, that ye may stand spotless before me at the last day.

21 Verily, verily, I say unto you, this is my gospel; and ye know the things that ye must do in my church; for the works which ye have seen me do that shall ye also do; for that which ye have seen me do even that shall ye do;

22 Therefore, if ye do these things blessed are ye, for ye shall be lifted up at the last day. (3 Nephi 27:14-15,20-22) 

 

The Wheat and the Snares - 2020

I knew it was crazy to grow wheat in a residential garden plot. Yields are so small and so labor intensive that it would seem foolish. Yet I wanted to do it for the experience. Wheat is mentioned many times in the scriptures, and I wondered what insights I could gain from first hand experience. 

My garden spot is about 10 x 20 feet, divided into four rows. 1.5 rows wheat, 2.5 rows corn, and half rows filled in with beans and sunflowers. A cucumber and tomato joined a little later. 

 

May 28

June 25

July 18

When the wheat was small it was very easy to identify and pull weeds around the wheat - so I thought. As the grain head started to peek out of the stalk, it was easy to see that not everything growing in my wheat was wheat. 

Grass, Grass, Wheat

There were two types of grasses also growing in my wheat. One had a fuzzy head, and the other a more wispy-space-alien-antennae kind of head. They were everywhere in the wheat. I tried to pull some out, but they would bring wheat plants with it. I had such a limited supply of wheat already that I didn't want to pull any more grass out. I noticed that the wheat grew straight up - one stalk per plant. The grasses had many stalks per plant. At the time of harvest there was nearly as much grass as wheat. 

A friend told me not to harvest the grain until the heads started to bow over, and to test a few to make sure the grain was hard. As the heads started to bow, I tested a few and the grain was hard, though I couldn't imagine grain that wasn't hard. 

Harvest Day- Sept 5, 2020

Harvest day was September 5. The wheat was golden and bowed. There was a good portion of grass and weeds in the wheat. In this photo you can see a bucket trap and a cinder block, which is another story about mice.  (More about the mice here.) 

Harvesting

Anciently and not so anciently, a scythe or sickle was used to cut down the grain stocks which would be tied into sheaves. I used a pair of pruning shears and cut the heads, one by one, off the wheat and put them in a bucket. This was a time consuming process. After I did a section, I would pull all of the stalks and grass out and throw them as a clump behind me to clear the ground. I ended up with a full bucket. 

Threshing

Threshing is the process of removing the grain from the seed head. Traditionally this is done by beating it with a stick. I put on some leather gloves and grabbed a big handful of the grain heads, and rubbed my hands together to break it into small pieces. I did this over and over until no big pieces were left.

After threshing

Winnowing

Winnowing is the process of removing the wheat kernels from everything that isn't wheat kernels. Everything that isn't wheat kernels is called chaff. The grain is much heavier than chaff. Traditionally winnowing was done by throwing the threshed grain into the air. The grain would fall straight down, while the chaff would get blown away. I placed a fan on a bucket, and a container on the ground in front of the fan. I could then pour the grain from the bucket in front of the fan and into the bin. 

I didn't trust that grain wouldn't be blown much as it dropped through the airflow, so I oriented the catching container lengthwise with the airflow. It turned out to be unnecessary. The weak airflow blew most of the chaff outside the bin, but not all. It was exciting to see more grain and less chaff with each successive pass though the airflow. 

 Some of the wheat wasn't winnowed enough -- the grain was still inside the hulls. I picked up handfuls of wheat and again rubbed them between my gloved hands. More chaff blew away. Still, it wasn't perfect. And as I looked into the bin, I could see, amazingly enough, DIRT and ROCKS. How did dirt and rocks get into the wheat? I recalled that I had been careless when pulling out the wheat stalks, and had just been tossing the clumps behind me -- right over the grain bucket.

Cleaning

This last step could have been avoided if not for my carelessness. I took the wheat to a table and put it, one handful at a time, on a cutting board where I could separate out the wheat from the dirt. This process took hours, but it was still enjoyable. I knew that skipping this step would mean bread with dirt and rocks in it.  

Soft Grain

In this cleaning process I also learned about soft grain. Soft grain had more of a yellow green tint to it, and was usually larger than the hard grain. These were kernels that didn't mature long enough. Soft grain, when squeezed, pops like a pimple. I didn't want that in my eventual flour either.  

Yield

After the planting, nurturing, watering, harvesting, threshing, winnowing and cleaning, I ended up with about 2.5 cups of wheat. That is much more than the 1/2 cup I anticipted. 

Final yield

Reflections

My purpose in planting the wheat was to gain insight into the scriptures. I suppose it will take years to unpack all of the lessons. These are some of the thoughts that I have had through the process

• By their fruits ye shall know them - it was easy to determine what was wheat after the plants started exposing their fruits. 
  
  
• The same soil that grew great wheat, also grew great weeds.
   
• Weeds sprawled more than wheat, and would often wrap around wheat.  
  
  
• Weeds had multiple seed heads. 
  
  
• Harvesting was a slow, plant by plant process. 
  
  
• Harvesting with a scythe required cutting low on the plant, so as not to disturb the seed head.  If the scythe or sickle were to cut close to the seed head, many grains would have been dislodged. Yet, the extra material with the seed head meant extra work threshing and winnowing. It is better that the grain fall on the threshing floor rather than in the field. 
  
  
• Threshing is a brutal, uncomfortable process for the grain, but is necessary to separate the grain from what isn't grain. Growth comes when we are uncomfortable and when life is hard. 
  
  
• I didn't trust the winnowing process at first but it was amazing to watch. Most of the grain was easily separated. In the end I wished I had a more powerful fan to more easily separate the wheat and the chaff. How attached am I to stuff? 
  
  
• At the time of harvest, some wheat was still immature. Though it looked mostly like wheat, and behaved through the threshing and winnowing processes like wheat, it couldn't withstand pressure. In the end it was discarded the same as chaff. 
  
  
• Through my own carelessness I introduced contamination to the wheat which had to be meticulously removed. 
  
  
• I did very little in this process. I gave space for the seeds and I planted, but God grew.
  
  
• Growing wheat is not monetarily rewarding, but it was worth my effort.

There are many gospel messages in each one of those reflections. It has been an educative and thought provoking exercise. Will I do it again next year? Probably. 

Reflections on Sharpening a Knife

I got to practice sharpening
my knives with this set. 

At a recent church youth activity I invited a proprietor of bladeops.com to teach our young group about knives. He showed different kinds of knives – fixed blade knives, folding knives with different locking mechanism, and out-the-front knives. He taught us about different types of blades and types of steel. Then he showed us different methods and tools for sharpening knives. Lastly, we got to practice sharpening our own knives.

At the end of every activity we try to have a reflection – an opportunity to ponder and try to find gospel and life lessons in whatever activity we have had. The youth, many of whom recently turned 11 years old, had some pretty awesome reflections. I want to convey one of them.

One of the youngest boys said something along these lines. “Just as we can’t expect to sharpen a knife with a fine git stone in a single pass, we can’t expect to instantly become like Jesus. We must start with a course grit, and then move to a medium grit, and then to fine and extra fine, doing lots of strokes with each. It takes practice and time.”

I loved the reflection. Few, if any, good things happen instantly. I was reminded of this thought from Isaiah (and other scripture) -

“For precept must be upon precept, precept upon precept; line upon line, line upon line; here a little, and there a little:” Isaiah 28:10

Sometimes I get frustrated when I don’t learn things as fast as I would like. But as Mr. Bladeops.com taught, if the grits are not used in order, the knife will not become sharp. And you cannot polish a blade with a course grit stone, and an extra fine grit stone will not remove the rough imperfections.

Joseph Smith also described this process which he noticed in his own life.

I am like a huge rough stone...and the only polishing I get is when some corner gets rubbed off by coming in contact with something else, striking with accelerated force...thus I will become a smooth and polished shaft in the quiver of the Almightly. DHC 5:401

The rough edges are removed. Increasing grit is used until the subject is polished. I can move onward and upward, unthwarted by the length or the speed of the process. Every action and every decision can be a sharpening stroke. Every experience can help me become more like Jesus.

On Being Reprimanded

Have you ever had an experience that you continue to ponder and wonder how you might have reacted differently? This is a conversation I replay lots in my mind.

I was a leader at a summer youth activity many years ago watching Napoleon Dynamite on a neighbor’s front lawn. There were a couple dozen 12 and 13-year-olds having a good time watching and quoting the movie. About an hour into the show I received a phone call from the baby-sitter of one of the young men whom we had seen leave the event a few minutes earlier. (His parents were away on an extended trip.) After introducing herself on the phone, she started on a strong tirade about how the young man had been treated. She really let me have it – how scouts should be a safe place and how there is no place for bullying and that the young man was distraught. I’ve never been chastised with such vigor as I was by this temporary babysitter whom I have never met.

But this post isn’t about bullying. I’m glad the babysitter was willing to stand up for the perceived injustice. But the reason this conversation replays itself frequently in my mind the minuscule amount of information the babysitter had about the perceived injustice, the boys involved, and their histories – or even that the young man was occasionally the one bullying. If I could change my response, I think I would include one additional sentence –

“The problem and its solution are much larger than your present understanding.”  

Facebook is a great example of this. Everyday people learn of an injustice and quickly pull out their sword, so to speak, and start swinging at dragons. Frequently things are written that would never be said in person – and usually with a slight comprehension of the situation. Perhaps an adequate response is –

“The problem and its solution are much larger than your present understanding.”  

I get caught up myself. I have seen people swinging swords about school lunch, about the length of school vacation at Christmas, about this or that political issue. I have friends in city government who dutifully listen to complaints.  Most of the time I think their responses to complaints could be –

“The problem and its solution are much larger than your present understanding.”

It applies also to matters of church history and doctrine. We judge history with societies current prejudices and our limited knowledge. People get “stirred up” and are quick to launch into complaints and criticisms. Many times, I think, the concern criticisms can be answered with -

“The problem and its solution are much bigger than your present understanding.”

Joseph Smith commented about people getting worked up about perceived injustice. 

“I have tried for a number of years to get the minds of the Saints prepared to receive the things of God; but we frequently see some of them, after suffering all they have for the work of God, will fly to pieces like glass as soon as anything comes that is contrary to their traditions: they cannot stand the fire at all.”  (Jan. 20, 1844.) DHC 6:183-185.

When I start to get worked up and feel like I need to speak with "all the energy of my soul," this is the time to learn more and speak less. How invested am I in this outcome? How critical is this outcome in the long term? How likely is my getting upset going to change the outcome?  (Perhaps in future reflections I can share stories of the two times in my adult life I have been upset - The story of the ripped shoe, and my college Portuguese test.)

Several scriptures come to mind on this topic. Here are a couple –

James 1:19

Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath:

Proverbs 4:7

Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding. 

What scriptures would you include?

Gospel Insights from an Orange Hat

I am a little bit reluctant to write this post. I am going to share a secret that I’m not sure I want to divulge. The Man in Black perceived that if word got out it would be “nothing but work, work, work.”

A phenomenon manifests itself every day in youth concerts, dance recitals, sporting events, and even graduation ceremonies – wherever there are some members of families (or close friends) are participating in an event, and other family members are observing.  Even though the family members were likely together 10 minutes before, once a family member is on a stage or field or wherever, usually separated by only a short distance, there is a desire to connect with the observing family. The family in the stands is equally zealous to wave and acknowledge the family member participating. 

“Hi mom!” the participant waves. “Can you see me?” 

“Yes!” the mom shouts and waves back. “We’re right here watching you! You can do this!”

Once acknowledgement between parties is achieved, all becomes right with the world.

My daughter was in marching band last year.  Marching band is no different – participants and observers want to connect with each other. Marching band, however, requires a little more decorum. Participants typically cannot move out of place, or wave. Football stadiums are large places and even if the band members could move, they would still have a hard time locating their family and friends scanning row by row, section by section. Many families shout cheers for their participants as the band enters the field. The cheers sound like encouragement, but mostly they are meant to connect with the participants. The cheers convey the meaning, “We are here in the cold to cheer you on. We are connected.”

I love my daughter. When she performed, I wanted her to know where I was – that I could see her and was cheering for her, and that she is not alone.  I wanted a more sure method of her finding me than a cheer. So during every performance, just before her band was about to perform, I would put on an orange hunting cap. I told my daughter that we would try to sit near the 45-yard line (her starting position) and to look for the orange cap. She was always able to find us – even at a competition that was particularly cold and 8 other people were wearing orange caps. (This is my reluctance on sharing my secret.)

I have reflected on this situation from both my point of view, and from my daughters.  I wanted my daughter to know where we were. Similarly, in this big world, I want to make it as easy as possible for God to find me. So I am going to be where he expects me to be, and do what he expects me to do. As his great and marvelous work unfolds, I want him to know that I am present. As a participant in this mortal play, I find comfort knowing that I have a heavenly parents and family cheering me on, that I’m not alone, and I feel connected.

We aren’t adrift in the universe after some cosmic accident, entertaining ourselves until entropy’s final victory. We have a loving parents who brought us here. We have family members that have already played their part and are now observers. We are separated briefly for this mortal event. Participants and observers are still anxious to connect with one another until they are together again at the end of the event. How joyous that will be. 

63 Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you; seek me diligently and ye shall find me; ask, and ye shall receive; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. (D&C 88:63)

“Hi dad!” the participant waves. “Can you see me?” 

Gospel Lessons From Marching Band

My daughter participated in her high school’s marching band this year. I, frankly, was glad she bypassed the first couple years she was eligible because it is much more of a commitment than when I was in school. But some of her band friends recruited her, and she was in. 

And it was hard. There were long practice hours, sometimes 20 hours a week during the school year, and 50+ during the summer camps.  They experienced the extremes of summer heat and sub zero temperatures at the end. (Spit valves were freezing shut.) The music was challenging. There was pressure to be better, to play louder, and to be precise with every movement.  There were occasional people problems – the forming and storming that comes with group dynamics before the norming and performing. At times the band director was more drill sergeant than director, and many students perceived that he was long on criticism and short on praise.  But they persisted. 

Competitions began and they did well – some competitions were better than others. With each competition there were small tweaks and more practicing. Make it louder, clearer, more precise! Louder, clearer, more precise!  And there were many more hours of practice. 

The final competition of the year was held in Saint George, Utah. Bands from all the western states were there. The band performed well and they were loud, clear, and precise. We had seen several of the Utah bands many times during the season, and everyone improved. Many of the shows from out of state were quite different. I thought my daughter’s band was probably going to take 3rd.  I hoped they would be happy with their performance regardless of a judges’ subjective score. 

Then the scores were announced. My daughter’s band not only won, but they won by a wider margin than the rest of the season. Parents went onto the field to congratulate their kids. My daughter was the happiest I have ever seen her. Tears of joy flowed freely. She was anxious to see us and to share her happiness with us. It is hard to express that kind of joy with words.

Could my daughter have had the same joy if practice had not been so hard? Does ease ever produce the same joy? I don’t think so. It is the hard things - the long term things that require the most commitment that bring the most joy. Marriage and parenting aren’t always easy – there is always work and problems and refining and moving forward. Yet, these relationships bring profound joy. Church service can be difficult and time consuming. It can be hard to mold my desires and keep the commandments and yield to the enticings of the Spirit. Yet when I do, and persist, I find joy. 

Lehi taught that without passing through misery, we wouldn’t know joy. Eve reflected, “Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.”  (Moses 5:11)

So life is hard. See it through. Do your best to be clear and more precise. The best things in life are hard. Joy awaits in the long term. 

(My daughter plays trumpet and starts at the front, 5th from the right)

Press Forward Bike Excursion

I led a group of 17 scouts and leaders on a bike expedition through our neighborhood and surrounding area. I am not a biker and knew that I would be at the end of the group. The plan was to make a large loop, mostly on a bike path, and meet up for shaved ice at the end of the ride. I have never made the ride before, but assumed the route would be obvious - a suspicion that was confirmed by other leaders. As we met as a group and discussed the route, one of the leaders said to always stay on the main path and you will be ok. We set out - me at the back. 

Early on two riders bowed out - one after a crash going off a jump along the way, and another to a previous illness that caught up to him. The group was mostly together at that point, and everyone else set off to the hardest part of the ride. 

All but three scouts trickled into the shaved ice shack. What happened to them? None of the leaders or other boys had seen the depart from the path. Leaders rode out in different directions. I started calling parents to see if the boys might have gone home - which is an awkward conversation. “We lost your son. By chance did he go home?” 

The boys eventually found their way to the shack. I asked them how they got

Blake was the desired route.
Red marks the additional
distance some boys traveled.

lost. Each one indicated that they didn’t know they were lost, they had stayed on the trail the whole time. They had made their best judgement along the way and somehow made a loop in the path, and ended up following the trail back to where we had started. From there, they knew the way to the shack and rode there, assuming that is what all the other riders had done. 

I made several bad assumptions on this outing. I assumed that leaders at the front and leaders at the end were sufficient to make sure that everyone made it to the destination. The boys that took a wrong turn were in the middle of the pack - but separated enough from others that when they had to make a decision, they didn't know what to do - and guessed.

As I ponder about the outing, I have some life reflections. 

Rather than having a leader at the front and at the back - it would have been more effective to have someone at the decision points, encouraging the youth and pointing the way they should go. 

God is like that. The youth have a major milestone every two years with lots of people pointing the way. 

Additionally, God provides the Holy Spirit, which can teach us the truth of all things, and when needed, God can direct our paths. 

But mostly - I realize that there are lots of paths to the snow cone shack. Some of the boys took an extra long path - but eventually made it. In the end, everyone who was working their way to the shack received a snow cone. Christ is the path, but no two people travel the same course. Some paths are longer than others. Some paths have more obstacles. The goal and the promise is the same for everyone. If we stay on the path and keep moving forward, we will get to that destination. May I press forward in faith.