Brent and I doing something that becomes part of who I am: a trip to Mayan Ruins in September 2010.
My most handsome boyfriend and I spend time at the beach together. Palm Beach Gardens 2010.
While growing up, I often my mother say:
Today I am becoming just who I want to be, at 6 or 16, 45 or even 83.
One of my favorite authors is Mary Ellen Edmunds. Trained as a nurse, she has served in the Church for many years. When I was in the MTC, 30 years ago, she had an office there. She has continued to serve and to write about her experiences. One of the things that I clearly remember is an essay in which she expressed the desire to be the kind of person that Heavenly Father could depend upon. She pictures the Lord and other important people meeting together in heaven when suddenly they become aware of someone who needs help. They don’t even stop. With confidence Heavenly Father reassures everyone: “We don’t have to worry. It’s OK. Everything’s taken care of. Mary Ellen is on the way and she will take care of it.”
Today I am becoming just who I want to be, at 6 or 16, 45 or even 83.
That is what I want to be—someone whom the Lord can depend upon. When I was a teenager, my mother once got upset. I was asked at the last minute to sing at a Fireside because the people assigned had failed to prepare anything. "Why don't they ask you to do it in the first place?" she asked indignantly out loud to no one in particular. It was a funny question coming from a woman who had taught her five children that we were given talents in order to be of use to others. As a teenager, she was asked to accompany someone singing at a Church meeting. Even though she practiced as much as possible, she couldn't "play all the notes" in the piano score. She got someone else to do it for her--and then her replacement didn't play all of the notes, either! Grandma Burton told her that she had been given an opportunity to develop her skills as a pianist so that she could help others--it didn't matter if it was note-perfect. The Lord wasn't listening to be sure that the music was performed perfectly--so Mom shouldn't be worried about it either--just to do the best that she could.
Today I am becoming just who I want to be, at 6 or 16, 45 or even 83.
One of my favorite Old Testament stories is found in 1st Kings.
8 ¶ And the word of the Lord came unto [Elijah], saying,
9 Arise, get thee to Zarephath, which belongeth to Zidon, and dwell there: behold, I have commanded a widow woman there to sustain thee.
10 So he arose and went to Zarephath. And when he came to the gate of the city, behold, the widow woman was there gathering of sticks: and he called to her, and said, Fetch me, I pray thee, a little water in a vessel, that I may drink.
11 And as she was going to fetch it, he called to her, and said, Bring me, I pray thee, a morsel of abread in thine hand.
12 And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.
13 And Elijah said unto her, Fear not; go and do as thou hast said: but make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and for thy son.
14 For thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth.
15 And she awent and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many days.
In my minds eye I can see Heavenly Father in a meeting when, suddenly, the Savior tells him that they need someone to take care of his prophet Elijah. Heavenly Father immediately says,
“We don’t have to worry. It’s OK. Everything’s taken care of. The widow is there and we can depend upon her.”
“We don’t have to worry. It’s OK. Everything’s taken care of. The widow is there and we can depend upon her.”
Today I am becoming just who I want to be, at 6 or 16, 45 or even 83.
Over the past few years, you have had the opportunity to hear Brent talk quite a few times—and in those talks, he usually tells a story about me or one of our children. Tonight, I would like to tell you a story about Brent.
It happened several years ago while we were living in Texas. Our situation there was unusual. We belonged to a ward that covered a relatively small area—rare in Wards located out of Idaho and Utah. We were living in an unusually big house—about 4000 square feet—and because we lived very close to the chapel, we often hosted ward and missionary activities in our home. When we moved into our home, the previous owners had left their refrigerator behind—and we kept it in the garage, well stocked with food so that we could provide dinner or refreshments for a large group of people on short notice.
Now comes the part about Brent.
While sitting in Sacrament Meeting one Sunday morning, Brent was prompted to do something that made him feel very uncomfortable. As he looked around the chapel, he saw a man. Suddenly he felt that he needed to pack up a large amount of food and take it to the home of this member. This member was well-to-do and owned a large home in a very nice neighborhood. Why would this man need food? What if we arrived on his front door step that afternoon with arms full of frozen meat, vegetables, and other basic items like rice, flour, milk, and bread—and this man and his family didn’t need it? How embarrassing would that be? Brent wasn’t his Home Teacher—he didn’t even know this man all that well.
I lead the music during the meeting—so as soon as Sacrament Meeting was over, Brent found me and told me about this feeling he had experienced. It seemed like a simple thing to me—if that’s what he felt we needed to do, then we would do it.
When we got home from Church, we filled four or five paper shopping bags with basic foodstuffs and headed out to make our delivery. When we got the house, we walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. When the door was opened, it looked as if we were walking into a construction site. There were sheets of opaque white plastic stapled to the ceiling. In the living room, there were some pieces of 2 x 4 with the saw and sawhorses at the bottom of a ladder reaching into the ceiling.
We discovered that this gentleman had lost his job. Blessed with a rich and sufficient life up until then, he felt too embarrassed to ask for help. His two daughters and their families lived with him and both of his sons-in-law had lost their jobs. The house had plumbing problems and the roof had a leak in it. After a week of steady rain the ceiling of their living room had collapsed. The grandchildren living with him were eating the cheapest of MacDonald’s foods—purchased one item at a time. No one else was eating much at all. This member was about to lose his house to the bank and he had no money to repair it so that he could sell it and avoid bankruptcy.
This was a family in desperate need of just what we had brought with us—the most basic of foods. I went into the kitchen to help is daughters put away the food—each item was welcomed with the utmost joy and excitement. While I was in the kitchen, Brent went to find out what was needed so that he could call the Bishop and give him an accurate accounting of the situation. Before we left, Brent emptied his wallet and quietly gave what he had to the man—so that he would have money to get some of the materials he needed to repair his home.
The story has a happy ending—both for them and for us.
Another meeting in Heaven rescued. This time, by Brent.
Today I am becoming just who I want to be, at 6 or 16, 45 or even 83.
I’ve been asked tonight to speak about teaching our children to pay tithing.
I asked my son Nathan what he remembered about us teaching him and his sisters that we should pay tithing. Looking puzzled, he told me that it was like all of the other commandments—it was just something that we did. Like going to Church and keeping the Sabbath holy, it was just a thing that was never questioned—it just happened. It seemed to me that Nathan thought about paying tithing with the same attention he gave to breathing in and out every day—it was just something that happened.
My daughter Lauren emailed me:
“What I remember is that you encouraged us to take tithing out right away. Whenever we got allowance, I remember we always traded our money back to have the right amount to pay tithing with. I still do that. Whenever I put a check into the bank, I take tithing out in cash so we don't accidentally spend it.”
I called Megan and asked what she remembered about Brent and me teaching her to pay tithing. She told me that she remembered us talking about it sometimes when we paying bills. She remembered having a tithing “bank” and going to see the Bishop with the family for tithing settlement. She also remembers telling the Bishop that she was paying a full tithing when he asked her if she was. Like Nathan, she remembered that paying tithing was just something that we did as members of our family. She then complemented me when she told me that Brent and I were wonderful parents and always taught her and her brother and sister to obey the commandments during Family Home Evenings—and in the things she saw us doing every day.
There was a meeting in Heaven. The Lord needed someone to teach Megan, Lauren and Nathan about the law of tithing. “It’s OK. Everything’s taken care of. Brent and Carolyn can handle it.”
Our Heavenly Father needs someone to teach his children to obey his commandments. He needs people who are faithful examples. He needs people who pay their tithing with a cheerful heart as easily as if it were breathing in and out.
Our children see us. They watch us. They hear us. They love us and they want to be like us.
Today I am becoming just who I want to be, at 6 or 16, 45 or even 83.
I am the kind of person who can fill in for a musical number. The widow was the kind of person who could care for the Lord’s prophet. Brent was the kind of person who could bring food and money when it was needed. Brent and I are the kind of parents who were able to teach our children to love the Lord and to obey His commandments.
I am grateful for His many blessings and for the opportunity that I have had to become someone I can be happy with. I close with my testimony of the Lord’s love for us and of His desire for us to obey His commandments and to teach our children so that, together, we can return to Him.
Today I am becoming just who I want to be, at 6 or 16, 45 or even 83.
Who are you becoming?
Carolyn Hendry
Saturday evening Stake Conference
23 October 2010
