Tuesday, November 7, 2023

A Gift of Heart, Carolyn Hendry, Des Moines 1986

 

A Gift of Heart

Carolyn EW Hendry

Des Moines, IA USA   1986

 

I offer hands that work and write.

I offer arms that hold you tight.

I offer eyes that love the small.

A gift of heart, I offer all.

        I offer meals that feed the poor; 

        I offer songs to cheer them more. 

        I offer tears that mourn with all.

        A gift of heart, I offer all.

I offer hand that hoe and till.

I offered, too, a carpenter’s skill, 

I offer hands that harvest fall—

A gift of heart, I offer all.

        I offer a voice to light the dawn,

        I offer movement, lithe and long. 

        I offer, hands that sculpt and draw;

        A gift of heart, I offer all.

I offered time to hear a friend; 

I offer care to help hurts mend. 

I offer love to ease the fall.

A gift of heart, I offer all.

        I offer prayers that plead for mine— 

        I offer litanies divine.  

        I offer thanks for blessings full.

        A gift of heart, I offer all.

I offer strength to lean upon. 

I offer cheer to speed you on 

And confidence to help stand tall— 

A gift of heart, I offer all.

        I offer a heart who’s broken girth 

        Yearns for peace and healing truth. 

        I offer faith as such had Paul.

        A gift of heart, I offer all.

I offer wisdom learned from God: 

With me, come seek the iron rod. 

I offer lips to drink the gaul; 

A gift of heart, I offer all.

        I offer a soul that cries: “Send me!” 

        I offer truth—He died for thee. 

        My head bowed I accept the call: 

        I give my heart, I offer all.


I wrote this poem in response to a theme my mom (Nancy Kathleen Burton Wagstaff)  and her counselors picked for a Stake Women's Conference:  "Gift of Heart"


It took me a few days.  When I was done, I gave it to mom and she used it--at least part of it--during the Conference.

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

Journal: Sac Meeting Talk "CHANGES"




Journal  Sac Mtg Talk   "Changes" December 2019

For every time there is a season;
For every question, there’s a reason.
Who you are now, it quickly changes
Better—worse—God rearranges
Each of us as time goes past
Until we stand with him at last.

    Friday night, during the Christmas party, I sat and looked around at all of the families.  Brent, Nathan and I were together, quiet.  But there was a time when all three of my children would have been running around—stopping to look at the dessert table—laughing with their friends.  There would have been confusion and noise in our family.  Other couples with children the same ages as ours would be sitting with us.  We’d be talking about school, Primary, Holiday plans.
    Everything changes.  While it seems that right now is going on forever, time is moving forward. 
    The Christmas party is over—never to happen again.  Time pushes us relentlessly on, never letting us return and re-live past events.
    Christ, himself, was subject to time.  Born as an infant, he gradually “increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.”
Luke 2:52
For every time there is a season;
For every question, there’s a reason.
Who you are now, it quickly changes
Better—worse—God rearranges
Each of us as time goes past
Until we stand with him at last.

    Our needs change:  From my 23 April 1993 journal.  Nathan is 4 years old.
Nate decided this week that he needed to have 2 birthdays every year—one was not enough.  He has been asking me repeatedly to:
    “Help me ask Jesus for more birthdays!”
This morning, I finally sat down with him and talked about the fact that while Jesus does send us the things that we need, I couldn’t imagine that anyone needed 2 birthdays every year.  Nathan insisted that he really, REALLY liked birthdays.
    “What do you like about birthdays?” I asked.
    “Presents!”
    “Well,” I laughed, “presents are nice.  What else do you like about birthdays?”
    “The games,” Nathan responded decidedly.
    “So what you would like more of is presents and games?”
    “Yeah.  That’s why I need 2 birthdays.”
    “We went yesterday and you spent the allowance you saved on a new toy.  Isn’t that like a present?” I asked.
    “No,” he gave me a stern look, “that’s not the same thing.  I went to the store and picked it out and used my own money.  That is NOT like a present.  I need 2 birthdays.”
    “Well,” I suggested “every year the family has a birthday on the day that daddy and I started our family—our anniversary.
    We could have presents and games and even a fancy cake with candles that everyone could help blow out.  How does that sound?”
    “You mean everyone would get a present?”
    “Yes, we could draw names out of a hat and so everyone would get a present,” I reassured him.
    “And play games?”
    “Sure.”
    “OK,” he decided almost immediately, “we could do that.”
    He then told me that “I got to get this thing planned.” We circled the day on the calendar and decided to go to Lettuce Lake Park and to eat a picnic during the party.  He told his sisters about it and informed his dad when he got home tonight.  He’s really excited about it.  Now, if I can just last through the questions that are sure to start tomorrow about “When is the party?” 
    Nathan’s priorities have changed since then; so have mine.
For every time there is a season;
For every question, there’s a reason.
Who you are now, it quickly changes
Better—worse—God rearranges
Each of us as time goes past
Until we stand with him at last.

    In the Old Testament, there are seasons of plenty and of want.  In 1st Kings, we read of a terrible drought.
8 ¶ And the word of the Lord came unto [Elijah], saying,
9 Arise, get thee to Zarephath, . . . 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 bread 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 3little 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 went and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many days.
    The widow found new life, where before she had only seen starvation and death.  With every day, her faith changed:  it increased as time went on and she cared for the prophet Elijah.
For every time there is a season;
For every question, there’s a reason.
Who you are now, it quickly changes
Better—worse—God rearranges
Each of us as time goes past                            
Until we stand with him at last.


    Our ability to cope with daily challenges changes.
    When my children were in Elementary and Middle School, they loved me unconditionally—but they could not trust me.  I would promise to pick them up at a specific time, but if I did not forget entirely—I was late. 
    I have manic depression. It manifest itself during my Senior year of high school.  For the next 20 years my body changed how it reacted to the medications I was on with disturbing frequency.   There were some months when I couldn’t get out of bed—other days when I couldn’t come out from the back corner of the closet.                                         
    My children loved me, but could not trust me to keep my promises. 
That has changed.  Over time, my body has adjusted to the chemical imbalances in my head, and the meds I take every day keep me stable.
    I thank Heavenly Father that that time is in the past—and that my children can trust me now to keep my promises.
    Each of us, at some point in our lives, will need help.  The 16th century poet, John Milton, wrote his greatest work, Paradise Lost, after he had gone blind.  He asks a rhetorical question in his Sonnet 19: 
When I consider how my light is spent,
   Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
   And that one Talent which is death to hide
   Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
   My true account, lest he returning chide;
   “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
   I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need
   Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best
   Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
   And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:
   They also serve who only stand and wait.”
            from the Poetry Foundation on line site
    https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44750/sonnet-19-when-i-consider-how-my-light-is-spent

    “Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?” 
And then answers his question: 
    “They also serve who only stand and wait.”  
    During our lives we may well feel that we have been denied “light” to accomplish our “day-labor.”  Like Milton, if we are patient and will listen, we can also serve God, even as we “only stand and wait.”
For every time there is a season;
For every question, there’s a reason.
Who you are now, it quickly changes
Better—worse—God rearranges
Each of us as time goes past
Until we stand with him at last.


    This entire Earth experience is essentially a segment of eternity set aside for us to use as we grow and change.  We can utilize our bit of time to feel anger and frustration that others don’t treat us as we ought to be treated.  We can complain that our job is boring and that we hate feeling alone.
    We can chose  friends that influence us for bad or that inspire us to become better.  We can use this time to get more education, to help clean up after a hurricane, to improve our bodies, to read the scriptures and good books, to better learn to love our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 
    We each have a set of talents, a set of challenges—and a purpose.  The prophet Isaiah saw our times.  The brother of Jared and the Apostle John also looked into the future and might have seen us, here, now, sitting in Church—
    In the July 1978 Ensign, Elder Henry B. Eyring talked of regret and how the brother of Jared changed to fulfill his calling as a prophet.  Elder Eyring states [and I quote] :                             
“More than the regret I feel for choosing not to learn from a German teacher and a piano teacher and so many others, my heart aches for the days—even months and years—when the Master would have taught me how to use faith and repentance and the Holy Ghost and charity, and could not get my attention.
If you share those regrets with me—and surely you have a few—and if you long to be a better learner, you will find both solace and suggestion in the life of the brother of Jared. Bow with him, as the book of Ether describes a rebuke that changed his life and can help change yours:
    “And it came to pass at the end of four years that the Lord came again unto the brother of Jared, and stood in a cloud and talked with him. And for the space of three hours did the Lord talk with the brother of Jared, and chastened him because he remembered not to call upon the name of the Lord.” (Ether 2:14.)                                 
The numbers in that sad account are keys to the brother of Jared’s problem and to the Master’s solution: four years and three hours. The brother of Jared, and his caravan of people and animals, had been stopped four years in a journey they knew was to take them over many waters to a promised land. And the Master took not a minute, not five minutes, but three hours of His time to rebuke inattention.”  [Close quote.]
    The brother of Jared learned the lesson that Christ had for him.  When it came time for him to communicate with the Lord, he repented.  He was changed.  I again quote Elder Eyring:  The brother of Jared prays,
“But he doesn’t simply ask as a child might ask a hurried parent or a student might ask a teacher flitting from pupil to pupil. He takes time to plead for forgiveness. He acknowledges blessings. He proclaims faith in God’s power.” [Close quote.]
    The brother of Jared took the time to learn, to ponder, to actually TALK to the Lord.  Just as Christ did during His lifetime, the brother of Jared “increased in wisdom . . . , and in favour with God.”  Luke 2:52

For every time there is a season;
For every question, there’s a reason.
Who you are now, it quickly changes
Better—worse—God rearranges
Each of us as time goes past
Until we stand with him at last.

    Because Brent and I were sealed together in the Provo, Utah Temple for all time—Brent has never lost trust in me.
    During the years when my meds didn’t keep me stable, Brent never got angry with me.  He never threatened to leave me or told me that I should quit being so terrible to him. 
     During this time, while we were traveling in the car, I told him that I knew that God lived and the Saviour atoned for my sins—and that I just didn’t care.  He was silent  for a moment and then he asked me “Do you trust me?”
    I answered quietly that I did.
    He told me, “I also know that God lives and that Christ gave his life to atone for our sins.  I know that these are true and are important.  Can you trust my testimony until you get yours back?”
    I nodded and told him, “Yes. I trust you and I’ll use your testimony as long as I need to.”
    Years later, I remember once I asked him why he didn’t leave me after all that I had done. 
    He looked at me in tender surprise when I asked.  He explained, “I knew that what you were doing wasn’t you.  It was something happening to you.  I would never leave you—we are eternal and I never will want to be anywhere but by your side.”
    Even though I do not deserve it, Brent trusts me now and will trust me forever.  He knows that I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt him.  Hurtful situations will come—because of  misunderstandings or problems with me and my meds.  He knows that I would never deliberately try to embarrass him or demean him. 
    His gift of trust is eternal and implicit.  It is because of our temple promises and the fact that we are bound together to one another and to the Lord.
    I know that I would have died, alone and empty, years ago were that not true.
    Long before Brent met me, he took the time to learn and to trust in the temple and its promises—his understanding of the purpose of this Earth life has given me the opportunity to learn from him all that the eternities have in store for us. 
For every time there is a season;                        
For every question, there’s a reason.
Who you are now, it quickly changes
Better—worse—God rearranges
Each of us as time goes past
Until we stand with him at last.

    I invite you to accept the Lord’s offer, found in Matthew 11:28-30. 
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
    During the Earthly years granted us, let us work with the Lord as He rearranges us—our hearts, our minds, our desires—so that we will be worthy to stand with Him at last.
                                                                            

Sunday, January 27, 2019

Catching Up





 
It is January 2019 and I am sitting in the TV room with ice packs on both my shoulders. It is beautiful outside. 

Megan has four children: Jon, Kate, Gloria, and Darren. 

Lauren has one child, Caleb, and is expecting their second child--a daughter--in May this year. Caleb has decided that They should name the baby George. 

Roberto is working as a firefighter, he and Lauren live come Roanoke Virginia. 

Nathan is working full-time at a Walgreens warehouse. He continues to worry constantly--though, with the Ritalin he takes, his ability to face challenges has improved. He continues to live with us in Florida. 

Brent works for NextEra Energy Marketing, a subsidiary of NextEra Energy.  He has a wonderful boss, actually a friend, whom he respects and enjoys working with. I worry about Brent's health, but he is the one in the family who has begun to help both Nathan and me begin to be more active.  

As for me, I am feeling the effects of a lifetime of recklessly using my body. That, combined with arthritis, has slowed me down considerably. I no longer ride horses or go scuba diving, and Nathan and Brent constantly watch me to make sure I am not out in the yard pulling weeds. I do ride my bike with Nathan and take walks with Brent after he gets home for work. Unfortunately, my habits of eating, combined with the restricted activities, has resulted in a very bother some weight gain.  I have gone from   124 to 140 pounds.  Lately all I have wanted to do is sleep. 
We now have a business with one townhouse refurbished and rented.

My father's second wife, Cindy, died in December 2018. Dad is lonely without her, and is also waiting for lower back surgery to relieve him of constant pain. He and Martha live close to one another in Springville, Utah. 

Recovering From Operation on Right Hand and a Week in Utah

It is only 9:30pm, but already Brent is almost ready for bed and Nathan is taking a shower before he goes to sleep.  I got to wear a new dress that I bought while I shopped with Martha last week in a curious little boutique that had been a family home at one point: The Busy Biddy.  
 The photo was taken with Photo Booth so it's grainy--but you get the idea.  
But I get ahead of myself.  A few weeks ago, Dr. Acosta removed the pisiform bone in my right wrist. Almost immediately I realized that I had waited too long to have my doctor do this. My hand is still weak and it will take few months before I can play the piano again, but there is no pain!
 Above:  After the bandages were off--one week after surgery. 

Thoughts on Plant Classes 7 September 2010

Some of the photographs that I posted a day or so ago were from the wedding that I attended in Wichita, Kansas. My sister Susan's son, Sam, married his long-time love, Ashley. She was radiant. The food was great. I had two pieces of wedding cake--sorry if they ran out early and someone missed out . . . but not really.

I went to my Plant Identification class tonight. It is a class that I don't really have any interest in, except that I love the teacher and there is a core group of students (most of closer to my age) that I also enjoy being with. It is kind of like a summer art class--we press plants and put them together in books, label each one and put them all in order. After Dr. George Rogers--very cool man--introduces the family of plants that we'll be collecting that night, we all get to hike around the campus and clip off flowers and leafs and put them into big plastic buckets. I get to hear about the plant characteristics (and I am beginning to remember some of them . . . not many, but some) and try to adsorb the information.

9/7/10

The Bones I Don't Have Any More

It has just occurred to me this week that I only have 204 bones in my body now.  I know that amputees have fewer than normal number of bones--I just haven't ever thought of myself in that way.  I can still do everything I could do before.  The scars aren't obvious.  I know that no one but myself will notice that my hand looks and performs differently than other people's.  The pain is gone--along with the bones.  I don't itch either.

I hate itching more than hurting.  After the last surgery, I had a horrible allergic reaction to something that got on my skin while they were putting the partial cast and final dressings on.  It started to itch--sometimes a symptom of healing--and it got worse and worse.  Almost crazy with the irritation, I finally tore off the bandages.  The entire area covered by the bandages was angry and red--raised and bubbling  with small bumps filled with fluid in clusters.  I've had several bouts of staph skin infections--and they itched BIG time.  I hate itching.  We went to the walk in clinic down the street.  The doctor took one look and told me that it was an allergic reaction.  Just to be on the safe side, she gave me an antibiotic along with the steroids.

I am starting rehab now.  The scar is a bit tender, but that will fade.  I can play the piano--after a fashion--and I am typing this with both hands.

Monday, August 27, 2018

Quick Pic Showing Off--Crane Chicks!!!! 2012




 8 March 2012

This morning, Nathan and I were coming into our housing area from the main street and struck GOLD! Just as we turned off of Donald Ross, we found this new family of sand hill cranes by the side of the road (actually there isn't much room to be anywhere except by the side of the road if you don't own a home). TWO chicks! One is much taller, and much more worried about the events taking place around him--this one was a "momma's boy" while the smaller female chick was definitely sticking very close to the adult male. Very cool. The parents recognized the white milk-jug-cut-out scoop we use to carry the grain mixture from the back of the garage, (and perhaps the two of us also) and came for food as soon as we approached them.

I got some incredible photos. Today we looked for them again--but it was wet and rainy and we missed them.