Sunday thoughts on Monday

Two young women (one former, one current) dropped off cards that brought me to tears. Right when I was feeling that maybe I'm not so good at this whole thing, maybe my efforts make no difference, they proved me wrong.

It was exactly what I needed.

It confirmed to me, yet again, that a hand-written note can turn someone's day – week, even! – completely around.

It brought to me a new resolve, to act on those feelings, to write those words that someone may need to hear. Thank you, thank you, dear girls.

an ordinary man

My darling grandpa just celebrated his 90th birthday recently. He's been on my mind.

I can hardly remember a time when he wasn't retired. I've always been glad that he got to enjoy a nice long retirement, and that he could be around so much for all of us to know him.

He is a very hard worker, and he installed that value in his children. He still takes care of his yard.

He was orphaned at a young age and was raised mostly by his brother.

He is incredibly handy. Grandma always said he could fix anything but a broken ear.

He has the most beautiful blue eyes.

He has a big sweet tooth, and always has a stash of candy around. Unfortunately, lots of it is candy I don't like -- circus peanuts and the like.

He has a great sense of humor. I remember him always telling me that something was "down the cellar behind the axe" with a big laugh.

He always had a wonderful garden. He would drive Grandma crazy by letting the zucchini get too big before harvesting it.

He tells great stories. The last time I visited, he told me about how he got into MIT and was an engineer in the Navy.

I can never remember a time when he didn't have a little beloved lap dog. Currently, that dog is a black poodle named Tyrone. He loves that dog, even though Tyrone bosses him around, driving Grandma to distraction.

He friended me on Facebook! That totally made my day.

He was a stake patriarch for many years. (Grandma tells me it's great to marry a patriarch if you can!)

We sometimes lovingly call him Puddingheart because he is such a softie. As soon as he sees you, he starts to tear up.

He and Grandma have been married for 66 years and have created such a legacy of love for all of us.

He always recognizes the Lord's hand in his life.

Not the best picture of Grandpa, but it shows him with his children (except Karen, who is in the hospital): Susan (my mom), Denise, Lee, and Patricia.

It's hard for me to think about Grandpa without also thinking of the beautiful song that my aunt Patricia wrote for him many years ago:

An Ordinary Man

An ordinary man
He says he's nothing more than just an ordinary man
And you might think you'd believe him
Though you'll never understand
How love can flow so gentle from an ordinary man

And there's magic in his touch
When I feel his arms around me
There is magic in the touch
Of his hands upon my head
And when I hear his soft command
I know that I have felt the special magic in his hands

If the government could know his worth
I'm sure they'd raise his pay
It's sad but true -- between me and you --
What a good man gets today
He tells me I am beautiful
That I'm his Miss Universe
I wish he wasn't taken, but my mother saw him first

An ordinary man
Still with his arms around me
An extraordinary man
When I'm headed straight for trouble
And I'm leading with my chin
He saves me from the crash
By flashing me that knowing grin

And if my Father up in heaven is anything like him
Then I would give the world to be with Him
For all eternity
And tell Him thanks for sending me
To just an ordinary man


I love you, Grandpa! You're anything but ordinary to us.

self-improvement

We had an amazing sacrament meeting today, and I knew I had to get my thoughts down before they flew out of my head.

{an aside: even though Marc went out to scrape off the car and warm it up ahead of time, my van's sliding doors were frozen shut! We put the heat on full blast and then had to go back inside and wait for it to thaw. Then, I couldn't back the van out of the driveway! After about 10 minutes of trying, sliding, and spinning, we made it out -- with the slightly scary smell of burning rubber. We were 20 minutes late and arrived just before I had to accompany a boy's/men's chorus. What in the world?}

The ward mission leader gave a powerful talk. He spoke about how his 5th grade teacher had an unorthodox method of giving grades -- he would hold up each paper, then read the student's name & the grade -- unless they had a grade lower than a C, in which case he would say, "you missed the boat". The speaker explained that he had missed the boat on more than one occasion, and that hearing those words was painfully disappointing, because he knew he had not adequately prepared. Of course, he then went on to say that we don't want to find ourselves in the position of missing the boat due to inadequate preparation, whether it be for missionary service, or our mortal life in general.

A newly-called missionary spoke, the 4th in his family. He was just so earnest. It was obvious that he has a testimony and has been preparing for his mission for years.

He related an incident that touched me: he said he still remembered a lesson one of his Primary teachers had taught (a woman who is still in our ward). She taught them about missionary work, and asked them if they wanted to serve a mission. They each nodded. But she had them go around the room and say, "yes, I want to serve a mission." When he heard himself say those words, he knew that they were true, and he started preparing himself from that moment on. Isn't that incredible? I can only imagine what that dear woman felt when she learned that her lesson made such an impact on one of her students.

Another thing struck me: he told us he had been fortunate enough to accompany his parents to Mexico when they picked up another brother at the end of his mission. As they went to the humble homes of some of his brother's friends, he was struck both by how little they had, and by how much they were willing to share -- they never left a home empty-handed. This experience brought him a degree of humility he had never known before, and he said, "I have been so very, very blessed. I have been given so much. The best thing I can do is to improve myself and then go out and serve."

I love the idea of self-improvement as an expression of gratitude. I have several areas of my life in which I really do need to improve and/or change a great deal, but I have been feeling so stuck, as if no amount of knowledge that I need to change is sufficient to actually bring about said change. But this is a powerful idea to me -- one that may help me along in my quest, and may help me to find the determination I need.

I was also reminded of a comment Kristi made on my blog quite awhile ago. She said something like, "There is one who wants this for you even more than you want it for yourself, and He will help you." I'm realizing that, although I have prayed and even fasted for the strength I am seeking, I have not made it a matter of consistent, earnest prayer. I think I know what I need to do.

I am so grateful for the people all around me who inspire me to become a better person!