I love being me right now. Even with all the body weaknesses and concern for children and grandchildren; for Brent and Nate; I love being who I am right now.
Thank you Heavenly Father.
There are stories of people who helped each other and then were able to find the people they saved.
One of them was responsible for getting a fatally wounded woman to the hospital in time for life-saving surgery.
Two months after 9/11, the ambulance tech who made sure she was the first the doctors examined, visited her in the hospital. He learned her name.
He learned that she would recover. He met her parents and fiancé.
He felt the overwhelming joy of knowing that he had saved a life.
There were two men--whose stories you hear separately, not knowing that they had any connection. One was a man who was being urged to climb higher, away from the smoke coming up the stairway. He didn't know what to do and froze. He told himself that he was going to die: if he were crushed by debris; if he was burned because the airplane fuel that covered everything ignited; if he was overcome by smoke inhalation. But in his confusion, he heard a cry for help coming from the wall behind him.
That sound focused him and he began to call out. He guided the voice to the left, to the right, to turn around because the voice was getting dimmer. Finally the voice was on the other side of the wall. The voice asked him what he needed to do and he told him that he would have to get over the wall between them. The first time was a failure. He called out, "You can make it. Try again." In the next moment, someone landed on top of him and they fell flat to the floor. When they got to their feet, the voice introduced himself and put out his hand to shake his saviour's hand. The man who guided the voice put out his hand and he introduced himself.
From a puncture wound in the first man's palm, they saw that they both had blood on their hands. The man declared that they were now blood brothers for life. They made their way down the staircase and outside. When they got down to the street, they
began to walk quickly away from the Twin Towers. The voice turned
around after a few minutes to find that they other wasn't there. The first man had grabbed a man in his truck and told him to drive him to Brooklyn: home to his children and a wife with whom he needed to work things out. Life was immediately turned into a miracle for him and he needed to act on that miracle.
Next we see the two of them together--much older, but still friends. They both tell the camera that the other was the one to save his life. The voice because he couldn't have made it to the staircase and the man who called out directions because it was the sound of the voice that shook him out of a shocked, paralyzing panic.
There was also a Head of Security of a company who knew that they had been attacked in 1994--and they needed to be ready in case they were attacked again.
He insisted on fire drills--everyone getting to the exit and walking down from the 70th floor to the ground. Four times a year they were required to participate in descending the staircase. When the attack happened and everyone was panicking, he started to sing, which helped everyone to focus--and then to do exactly what they had been trained to do. He and is security guards went back inside the office to make sure that everyone had gotten out. All 3 of them died.
This man didn't save just one soul, but over 2,000 people. These 2,000 owe their lives to this security officer and his dedication--over seven years--of keeping everyone safe.
New Subject
Our new Bishop Robinson--Bishop Jones was released on Christmas Day Sunday 2023--asked us to pray for 4 things every night at 9pm. This prayer is a Stake-wide event, individually offered in private, but part of an unknowable number of souls who all have testimonies of Christ and the Plan of Redemption. As a group, we have a power of faith that unites in a call to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. This faith is what heals injuries [those that happen to our bodies, our minds, our souls] and enables Christ's Priesthood to do miracles.
Miracles like saving a life, or 2,000 lives, or bringing someone back to life.
What echos in my mind is the gratitude and admiration that the rescued have for those who saved them. Through no effort on their own, they were picked from all of the thousands who were there that day to survive--to have a life that is an un-repayable gift.
Not all who survived were left without life long scars. Both the rescued and the rescuers suffer from PTSD that makes a "normal" life impossible. The images of death and destruction that they saw can never be unseen. Hundreds of the rescue workers and first responders are now slowly dying of respiratory and lung damage. Most of them have medical debt they will never be able to repay.
So it is with me. I am mentally and spiritually damaged goods. Everyone here on Earth who won the right to be here has limitations--some of which can be recovered from, but many more that cannot. One of my best friends looks forward to the time when they will be able to look back over their life and see the limitations they had to endure while on Earth. They are looking forward to a perfected body, heart, mind and soul that will allow them to do things without constraint: to talk freely, to make friends easily, to remember names instantly, to move without constant, cumbersome pain.
This year in Sunday School we study the Book of Mormon--a volume of Scripture that was prepared to come to us "in a day of wickedness, degeneracy, and apostasy." Mormon 8 That time is now.
“Life is not easy. It's supposed to be hard, and it is hard.”
Elder Elder Yoon Hwan Choi, 1st Counselor of the Area Presidency
2 September 2022 - Manila
News Release Cabuyao Philippines Stake fireside
How do we rise above all the chaos that surrounds us?
Christ promised in John 14
18 I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.
20 At that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you.
21 He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him.
We have been given the Book of Mormon.
We beheld and saw the plates, and the engravings thereon; and we know that it is by the grace of God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ, that we beheld and bear record that these things are true. And it is marvelous in our eyes.
Nevertheless, the voice of the Lord commanded us that we should bear record of it; wherefore, to be obedient unto the commandments of God, we bear testimony of these things.
And we know that if we are faithful in Christ, we shall rid our garments of the blood of all men, and be found spotless before the judgment-seat of Christ, and shall dwell with him eternally in the heavens. Testimony of 3 Witnesses
The Prophet Joseph Smith said, “I told the brethren that the Book of Mormon was the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book” (the introduction to the Book of Mormon).
I have changed my prayer from "Please soften the hearts of those who oppress others: those who starve, kill, and take joy in war." to "Please come soon."
This year I’m trying to write about things that happen more often. I’m writing to you as part of that plan. When I get to talk to you and hear about the challenges that your family is facing and the accomplishments of you, your children and husband, I remember when I used to write every week about what you, Nate and Meg were up to. I sent developed pictures with the letters to Grandma W and L. I think they enjoyed reading about my thoughts, but they liked the photos better.
There was one series of photographs I remember where you and Meg were wearing matching t-shirts that your Uncle Rob had sent you. Nathan wasn’t born yet, and I put two little wooden chairs that Grampa D had saved when their Ward got new, plastic ones. I tried to get the two of you to sit still and smile for a camera shot to send to Rob. I wanted to send him a Thank You card with an image of you both wearing the shirts he sent. You and Meg climbed on the chairs, looked under them, just about anything but sit on them. When I got both of you to sit still, one would smile and the other would make a face or look at the ceiling. It was after bath time, so you two had damp curly hair. You giggled and played with each other—anything but still for a moment for me to take a picture. I never did get the perfect picture to send to Rob, but I’m sure that he didn’t mind.
Since my life now is calm and quiet compared to what it was even to last year, most of what comes out when I write is bits of our family history—and not the genealogy kind. The genealogy specialist of our ward, Sister B, is an amazing fount of knowledge. She knows the system and how to find documents I never knew could exist. She had a mind that moved at the speed of light, and I was so slow next to her that it overwhelmed me. The Bishopric tried to put me into her place so that she could show me all she knew—I flinched at every procedure, computer short-cut, over-view setting, and reporting record due every month. I was quickly released—your dad was still Stake Clerk and he got the calling off the records of the Church. People still call me about genealogy information, but I have nothing to offer. My Patriarchal blessing council need to prepare myself to serve in the great logical work of the church. I’m really, really hoping that they are talking about serving in the temple. If not, then Heavenly Father is going to have to rearrange my brain because the way it is now I could never show people how to find their relatives.
The thing that occupied my weeks last year was at the Sanctuary. I was there every day and when they moved to the new location, I was there sometimes 10 hours a day every week. Now, just about everything is organized, and I am mostly in the way. The office did ask for a picture of me to put in the January 2024 newsletter. They got three different volunteers from the three different areas of the sanctuary: the hospital, animal care, and the education department.
Sunny is holding the barn owl named Athena who died more than six years ago. I miss her.
I also miss Earl, the flying squirrel, who was here at home with me for a while before he left me.
You deal with children, I deal with gopher tortoises, a retired Bard owl, cleaning cages for raptors and falcons who were injured in the wild and have never gotten used to humans, and prepping food for the animals to eat the next day.
They have banned me from going into the enclosure with Coon, a shrike that was brought into the hospital after a big storm. He became acclimated to people—especially me because I worked with him for the few months he was growing up in the hospital. He dive bombs people and pokes holes in hands and arms as they clean his cage and give him fresh food. Coon would sit on my finger and come when I motioned to him. After a time, I wore eye protection because he flew at a volunteer’s eye. He was never “tame” but the times he got out, he came when I put my finger up to him. The new location is open—there are no niches where animals are housed out of the public eye. It is a place where everything has to be done before 10am—no contact with the animals after that. My motivation for volunteering has been the opportunity to interact with the animals and birds. I still go, but my heart is not there as it used to be.
Like your dad and Nathan, change is now hard for me.
