Being a Missionary for the Lord

I have just finished reading a blog post. It is very, very long but the light and knowledge I received from it was very strong, and I feel-very strongly-that I should post a link to it. Please feel free to pass the link along; I'm sure the young man writing the blog would be very willing to edify any and all who can be edified by his post. I would post a synopsis, but the synopsis would be quite long and I could not do justice to what the young man says in his own words.

http://keepit100withchapterandverse.blogspot.com/2017/07/life-off-old-ship-year-sojourn-through.html

Payson Utah Temple Cultural Celebration

God's approval or disapproval?

The scriptures tell us ways God approves. This quote shows, scripturally speaking, God's disapproval:

Suddenly a typhoon style rainstorm hit the area along with hail, thunder, lightning and 35 mile-per-hour winds. Thousands of participants and spectators moved from the stands and huddled under the stadium for shelter listening to clasps of thunder and a loud warning over the PA system - “Program is temporarily suspended. Take shelter under the stadium or return to your vehicle.” Others hunkered down with umbrellas not wanting to give up their good seats until the intensity of the wind, rain and lightning finally created a mass exit from the stands.
As the minutes ticked by, thousands of rain soaked participants and their disappointed audience wondered if the show would ever go on. Some kept checking the time and the skies while others silently prayed. Young men and women were seen leading large groups of people in prayer as lightening flashed and instant waterfalls cascaded down the bleachers.

The cultural celebration starting time, came and went. Then an hour after the scheduled time to begin the program, the storm unexpectedly stopped.

But the people's stubbornness prevailed.



But what about this reported event?

After the rock stars ascended the stand and the lead rock star in attendance walked to the podium and said a few words . . .

[Eyring:] "So let's fill this stadium with love and light. Let the celebration begin!"

Unexpectedly a large impressive flock of white doves flew high in the air above the stadium taking several graceful circling swoops.

Problem is, I've never seen nor heard where the Spirit of God is manifested as a large flock of white doves. It is only one dove, as far as I know.

But what approval would they be showing? The dove attending Jesus was because He had been baptized even though He didn't have to, technically speaking, because He was perfect.

Why would God send a whole flock of white doves to show approval for a celebration saying how awesome we all are, and honoring men? It couldn't be because God had accepted the temple. It wasn't a temple dedication. And history (and scriptures) show us that when God approves of a temple, people see Jesus and angels. Gifts of the Spirit are obvious. (This was not a dedication, by the way, but a huge party apparently commanded by and put on for a whole lot of rock stars. I mean general authorities.)




You can read about the whole celebration here.

It seems like it was quite impressive.

Acts 16:16-22

And it came to pass, as we went to prayer, a certain damsel possessed with a spirit of divination met us, which brought her masters much gain by soothsaying: The same followed Paul and us, and cried, saying, These men are the servants of the most high God, which shew unto us the way of salvation. And this did she many days. But Paul, being grieved, turned and said to the spirit, I command thee in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her. And he came out the same hour. And when her masters saw that the hope of their gains was gone, they caught Paul and Silas, and drew them into the marketplace unto the rulers, And brought them to the magistrates, saying, These men, being Jews, do exceedingly trouble our city, And teach customs, which are not lawful for us to receive, neither to observe, being Romans. And the multitude rose up together against them[.]

Strong's numbers:

Damsel - παιδίσκη
paidiskē
pahee-dis'-kay
Feminine diminutive of G3816; a girl, that is, (specifically) a female slave or servant: - bondmaid (-woman), damsel, maid (-en).

Spirit - πνεῦμα
pneuma
pnyoo'-mah
From G4154; a current of air, that is, breath (blast) or a breeze; by analogy or figuratively a spirit, that is, (human) the rational soul, (by implication) vital principle, mental disposition, etc., or (superhuman) an angel, daemon, or (divine) God, Christ’s spirit, the Holy spirit: - ghost, life, spirit (-ual, -ually), mind. Compare G5590.

Divination - Πύθων
Puthōn
poo'-thone
From Πυθώ Puthō (the name of the region where Delphi, the seat of the famous oracle, was located); a Python, that is, (by analogy with the supposed diviner there) inspiration (soothsaying): - divination. [Only occurs once in the Bible.]

Gain - ἐργασία
ergasia
er-gas-ee'-ah
From G2040; occupation; by implication profit, pains: - craft, diligence, gain, work.

Soothsaying - μαντεύομαι
manteuomai
mant-yoo'-om-ahee
From a derivative of G3105 (meaning a prophet, as supposed to rave through inspiration); to divine, that is, utter spells (under pretence of foretelling): - by soothsaying. [Only occurs once in the Bible.]

 Now, my questions are these:
Why did it bother Paul? I mean, she was bearing testimony of them. She was, in essence, saying, "Listen to these men. They're servants of God. They show us the way to salvation."

Did he just get irritated because she was rather like a groupie?

Was it because she was female (Paul's other writings show him to be rather misogynistic)?

Why do we assume/teach each other it was a devil? Maybe it was a gift inside of her and not an actual separate being possessing her.

Wouldn't her testimony cause others to listen to Paul and his companion? Didn't the Lord say that those who are not against us are for us?

Is every spirit that possesses people from God? Is every gift of divination from God? Do some "gifted" people simply make things up? If they testify of the truth, are they of the wrong spirit? If they testify of truth at times and make things up at other times, which spirit are they of?

And, seriously, did this girl just irritate Paul because she hung around him - or were her masters making money off of Paul's presence? You know, hanging around him and putting in her own little prophecies and teachings on the side, which brought money and attention to her masters.

In other words, maybe they were sharing their own teachings alongside Paul, but that was not written in the record we now have.

I dunno. It just seems strange that he would get ticked off at her for testifying that they were true messengers of God.

Home Teachers

Home teachers are people who are assigned to pretend they care. Some keep up the pretense rather well. Most do not. Some never bother to show up. (Most of mine have shown up.) Some say they will show up, but never do. (I've had my share of these.) Some offer to help, but never get around to it. Some become genuine friends. (I had one of those right after I got back from my mission, years ago.) Most (that I have had) are polite, putting in their time for whatever reason.

Numbers.

I think this is the major reason. Pushing for that 100%. You can usually tell these. They are the ones who call (or show up) within the last few days of the month on a consistent basis.

Tradition.

This is what is done in the church, therefor we do it. We think we know why. We honor Brigham Young for beginning this inspired program. (But, then, we have no idea what it was that Brigham Young actually expected the men to do, nor do we know that it was not popular, because the people did not like the idea of such invasive questions.)

Pride.

These are the ones who feel compelled to have 100% home teaching. The visits are superficial (most home teaching visits are, anyway, in my experience – no matter what category most of them fit into). They may be at the end of the month, at the beginning, or any points in between. The impetus is to put on a face to the world (church) that theydo 100% home teaching, that they are righteous and holy. Perhaps they are striving to go up the ecclesiastical ladder.

Guilt.

I think men are less prone to this factor than women, but this is definitely one. Gonna be punished. Gonna look bad. Who knows when these home teachersshow up. They may get home teaching done quickly just to say it's done.

I have had home teachers who:

were genuine friends before they were assigned -

became friends because of the home teaching position -

set up a time and date, but never showed up (they followed this pattern on a regular basis) -

came, and we had stilted conversation before they got to the crux of the meeting – a lesson in a magazine that I could read for myself (and probably already had) -

helped us with things we genuinely needed -

helped us grudgingly -

helped us, apparently willingly.

My favorite home teachers.

The one after my mission came because he was assigned. In other words, he didn't know my roommate and myself before this time. But he seemed to genuinely care. We had “real” conversations.

Then there was the one who would set appointments, but only showed up for the first one. I don't know how much he genuinely cared, but when we needed him, he was there. This includes the formidable task of moving us from southeastern Arizona to southwestern Utah – freely and without complaint or hesitation.

In northern Arizona, we rented from a man and his wife. Very low rent ($300 a month). When we moved in, the kids and I helped finish a room that was being added onto the trailer we were renting. For that, we got free rent for at least a month (maybe two).

And, he made me a deal: I could work for him to pay for $100 of the rent each month. He was writing a book, but he was mostly blind. He could not type because of lack of feeling in his fingertips. I worked for him 12 ½ hours a monthas his eyes and as his typist. (He was not physically well enough to do more than a couple of hours of work at a time.) When my niece died, he lent me money to get up to the funeral (another couple lent me a car, because mine was not good enough to go that far, in my opinion. They were neither home nor visiting teachers). I paid him back through work.

Soon after I moved in, he told me that they had assigned him as my home teacher. He asked if I'd accept him as my home teacher. When I told him yes, he asked if I wanted a monthly visit. I told him, “No.” If he was there when we needed him, that was enough. And he wasthere when we needed him, both he and his wife. The amount of help they gave us was incredible, considering that he kept calling himself, “useless,” because of his poor health.

We called them Grandpa and Grandma. They had had a toddler killed in a car accident years before (a drunk driver hit them). She had been born a year afterI had been born. They “adopted” me, and told me I was the replacement for that child. Not exactly, because one cannot replace someone who was lost, but this was their view of myself and my children. They even took me to her grave and showed it to me. They had many children, by the way. All of the childrenwere grown by the time I met this couple.

I wish I still lived in that area. I would love to be going over there, helping Grandpa type his latest story. (He had been typing a history when I moved into the trailer, but by the time I moved out of that area, long after moving out of his place, he wasworking on historical stories.)

Their hearts were “as big as all outdoors”.

I don't like “lessons” from either home teachers or visiting teachers. I don't think God ever set up a program of people mechanically teaching or of being assigned to care. I believe He can and has used the program to help those who need help, but that's only because we are not living Zion.

If we were living Zion we would not need to be assigned to care. We would naturally care. We would notice those who needed what we can give, because we would be open to the Spirit pointing those people out to us. I have had such people come into my radar when I was in a position to help. I have also been on the receiving end of such help. Even now, some people who were truly inspired to help us have been pulling me out of the pit of despair with their very real help. I don't even know these people in real life. They are internet friends.

I suppose my point in all of this is that we should be living in a way where “assigned friends” are not necessary, where we are living in such a way that God brings to us those we can help in whatever way their souls ache. We should not have to teach someone a monthly lesson. Instead, we should be loving them and praying for them. They can (and should) study the scriptures for themselves, forgoing the middle-men to God. We should help because of the love of God that resides in our hearts.

Thoughts on Storing Food

First - Where is the revelation where God commands us to store food?

I wonder if it would have been better to learn how to trust God for my supply, instead of putting away food.

What if food storage subverts the work of God as He tries to teach us to rely on Himinstead of the arm of flesh (even if it is our own arm)?

We (my family and I) are living off our food storage. The oil is nearly gone. Depending on how many sweets we make, the sugar could last several months to a year (we don't usually use it very quickly). The salt will last forever (we don't use much of that, either). Our oils are olive oil and grapeseed oil. Our sugar is sucanat (brown) and dried cane juice (white, but not as white as refined cane sugar). To replace any of those items with similar items is more than we can afford right now. We'd have to “downsize” to the lowest quality available (or go without).

But this post isn't to draw attention to us, nor to make anyone feel sorry for us. God is taking care of us. We aren't starving. I'm just wondering if we would have, perhaps, been better off learning to trust God for our food supply instead of our own ability to hoard, even if collecting the food entailed sacrifice (which it did at times).

Second - The fruits of storing food.

What are they? You know the most prolific fruit I see? Fear and violence.

So many people (not all - and I know many because of my interaction with the internet) are stockpiling weapons to defend their food storage. They speak of how they plan to kill anyone who tries to take their food by force. They speak of how they will make someone who asks for food labor in the most menial, demeaning ways to earn the right to survive. You know, s/he didn't prepare when the time was right. Now the time of preparation is past. Even though I didn't agree with the violent tendencies, it seem “normal” to me. But, now . . .

What about King Benjamin's sermon? What about not judging the beggar? What about freely giving to him/her? What about the fact that his/her death is upon your head if they perish because you withheld food?

“Which of my children should die that you might live?” Catchy comeback for those who assume they can just come to your house and get some food when times get bad, because they didn't store away food. (I liked the comeback when I first heard it. I thought I could use it if I ever came across that particular situation.)

But this doesn't sound like the fruits of the Spirit on either side - Not on the side of the one assuming they have a right to take, nor on the side of the one who assumes that sharing means automatic death for a family member.

I see food storage preventing faith that God will provide.

I see food storage causing otherwise good people to desire to kill their fellowmen.

I see food storage causing selfishness, pride, and greed.

I see food storage causing envy, covetousness, and anger.

This is a new view for me. A new paradigm. An unexpected turn of thought.

What if we are supposed to rely on God and God only, for our support?

The rich man who hoarded his grain was only being a good steward. He was making sure he had his long term supply of food - And God called him a fool.

Jesus said (in the Bible) that we shouldn't worry about how or if we are fed and clothed. He seemed to be talking to everyone, the 12 apostles as well as the general congregation. Jesus said the same thing to another group (in the Book of Mormon), but it was to 12 disciples and didn't seem to be directed to the multitude in general. I don't know if that means something or not.

A group of people in the Book of Mormon got together a 7 year supply -

But -

1) They did it together

2) There was an immediate threat they were responding to.

The Pharaoh in the Old Testament had a warning dream. God's seer interpreted it. Again, there was a specific threat. God gave a specific revelation in relation to it.

What if the people in Pharaoh's time had been righteous? What if they were in the habit of trusting God for their supply? Would there have been a need for them to eventually sell their souls to the Pharaoh? Would the dream have been necessary? Joseph certainly would not have been in prison because a wanton woman would not have been among the people (neither would slavery had been among them). Did God provide the dream because the people, like us, lacked the faith for God to provide for them day by day and minute by minute? Like the ravens. Like manna. Like clothes never wearing out (and that was among a rebellious people).

And the Israelites the dream was intended to save? How righteous were they? Many of them wanted to kill their brother. Instead, they threw him in a pit and sold him as a slave, putting blood on his clothes so the lie they told their father would seem more realistic. Two of them massacred a great many young men in a certain town. One slept with his father's wife. This doesn't sound like people who would be able to draw down the power of heaven when a famine showed up (and perhaps the famine was to humble them).

For us today, what happens when the food runs out? When there are no stores to go to? No money even if there were stores? No gardens because there is no safety, no unpoisoned land, no good water? Will we be fed by ravens? Will manna come from heaven? What if we have killed to protect our food supply? Is God bound to save our lives after we have done that? Will He still send ravens or manna or water from a rock to a murderous people?

I have not seen even one revelation from God for our time, commanding us to have a food supply (yet we think there was one). I have not seen such a revelation telling us to rely on it for our lives.

A dream by an unknown person (attributed to John Taylor, I believe, but the truth is that there is no name attached though there is a space for the name once the journal writer found out who had it). What credence should we give to that? The same as we give to the myriad of other rumors of thus and so general authority had a dream or a prophecy, but never bothered to deliver the message over the pulpit, pointing out that God had given it to him to warn the people?

“Thus saith the Lord, it is meet that my people gather together food and other supplies to sustain them for xxxx years, And this is a standing law unto them forever (or at least until I come). Amen.”

Where is it? If God said it and it is scripture for our day, it should be in the Doctrine and Covenants. I cannot find it there.

And if it isa commandment from God (but someone forgot to canonize it), why are the fruits

fear

greed

anger

envy

violence

murder

slavery?

If it was from God, wouldn't the fruits be

faith

charity

peace

generosity

freedom?

As one who has been to the spirit world, I can tell you that to kill for fear of dying from hunger makes no sense. If you do that, your death when it comes will not be pleasant for you. As one who has experienced serious hunger, I assure you that one does adjust to hunger. For myself, the pain became my friend. I didn't want it to leave. Scary thought, huh?

Moroni saw our day

Mormon chapters 8 and 9. Written by Moroni after the death of his father, Mormon. I'm beginning where he is talking about the coming forth of the Book of Mormon (the records of his people).

“It shall come in a day when the blood of saints shall . . .” Say what? I thought this was talking about pre-restoration, pre-LDS. Just how broad is Moroni's view, who has seen us and our day (verses 34-35)? He doesn't seem to differentiate between pre and post Joseph Smith. Well, let's continue.

“It shall come in a day when the blood of saints shall cry unto the Lord because of secret combinations and works of darkness.” I guess I don't know about these because they are so secret I cannot see them, though I have heard of rumors of child/infant sacrifices to the god of this world.

“It shall come in a day when the power of God shall be denied.” Hm. Do we deny the power of God when we “bless the hands of the doctors” instead of “bless to be healed”? Do we deny the power of God when we brainwash ourselves to think that going to practitioners who cannot heal is “doing all we can for ourselves, because God will not heal us unless we do all we can”? For an excellent work on this topic I would recommend the book Confessions of a Medical Heretic by Robert Mendehlson. An old book but still very applicable in important ways. It will give you an idea of one arm of the great and abominable church of the devil. I, myself, am trying to extricate myself from the false church of “God can't heal you, but the medical practitioners can give you prostheses, drugs, and cut pieces out of you which is as good as you can expect today.”

A day when “churches become defiled and lifted up in the pride of their hearts.” Surely Moroni is only speaking of other churches. The true and living church of Jesus Christ surely cannot fit this description! Hm. I've known of some pretty dark sins amongst the members (and even lower level leadership). Pride? You betcha! I grew up thinking I was better than nonmembers, and that anyone who smoked cigarettes was going to hell for sure. It took leaving Utah and a lot of work on my part to overcome those two attitudes (and I was a typical LDS – I mean it was at church and amongst the LDS I lived around that I learned this stuff; I certainly didn't get it from my mother).

“Even in a day when leaders of churches and teachers shall rise in the pride of their hearts, even to the envying of them who belong to their churches.” I've nothing to say about this. I've not had experience with it in regards to any religion – though I suspect the reason Joseph Smith was treated so violently as a boy was because of the envy of the leaders of the churches who thought they should have had a vision if such was to be had, not some nobody like Jo Smith.

Verses 29 through 31 were apparently happening in Joseph Smith's time, and they have not gotten any better. In fact, it seems to me that things in these areas have gotten a whole lot worse.

Churches that forgive sin if you give them money. I don't have enough experience to comment on this one.

Well, you know Moroni couldn't be talking to the people who lived before the Book of Mormon came out because it wasn't there for them to read. He calls them and us – wicked, perverse, stiffnecked people who have “built up churches unto yourselves”. Have we done that? Do we build up churches unto ourselves, even in the Lord's own church? Not only “unto yourselves” but “unto yourselves to get gain.” Do we do that? When I went on a mission, I thought we had an unpaid clergy. I was totally shocked when my companion said, during a discussion, that the general authorities get a “small living allowance”. Say what? Well, I don't know enough about that to know if it applies to this scripture or not.

But there was a volunteer seminary teacher who did a marvelous job of teaching. She had more than ten kids coming to her early morning class. Well, the seminary teacher (paid) from a town about 30+ minutes drive away got wind of her success (easy to do since he was her “superior” and came over a couple of times a year to see how she was doing).

She was summarily put into the YW presidency and released as a seminary teacher. Obviously expecting to reap her results, he drove over to our area every day after school. A sacrifice of time with his family, he assured me.

Well, he didn't get the same results she did. By the end of the year, he was lucky to have two or three students showing up. The kids knew that he didn't care about them. He treated them as if they were “typical mindless school kids” but none of them were. Several were home schooled (thus used to being treated with respect) and the rest went to a school that was not the product of “typical” children who needed to be entertained and treated as lower class citizens. He had to have the center spot, when I visited. He did not let the students talk like the volunteer had. There were no discussions that I could see. And the big failing, as far as I could tell, was that he was doing it for money and not “for the welfare of zion.”

“Why have ye transfigured the holy word of God.” Oh, yeah, they messed with the Bible. Okay, but how much of what Joseph Smith taught, that God told him to teach, is being taught today? Are we being taught that the only reason the church was restored was so that there would be a people who could stand in the presence of God? No. We're being taught that family is the ruling icon. Ignored is the fact that we are supposed to reach a point to see Jesus face to face in this life. Ignored is the fact that we should be literally raising the dead, seeing angels, healing the sick (without the intermediary of any man, no matter what degree s/he holds), having meetings directed by the Spirit and not a handbook, that our lives should be dictated by the Spirit and not by a handbook, nor by opinions from elite leaders in a distant city (or nearby, if one lives in the holy city).

As I said, Moroni assures us that he has seen us, and he knows our doing. He knows we walk in the pride of our hearts. Wearing very fine apparel (clothing). Envying. Strifes. Malice. Persecutions. All manner of iniquity. And your churches, yea, even every one, have become polluted because of the pride of your hearts. Say what? Every one? Well, obviously, Moroni isn't talking about Jesus' sacred church. That church has a guarantee that it will be perfect in every way, right?

Then, Moroni adds “for” – a connecting word, then says, “ye do love money and your substance and your fine apparel, and the adorning of your churches, more than ye love the poor and the needy, and the sick, and the afflicted.”

Yes, but this was all before the Book of Mormon came out right? (Then why was Moroni bothering to mention it?) Well, at least it applies to every church but ours? Every church but Jesus' own?

Read and wake up. The very next verse (38) – “O ye pollutions, ye hypocrits, ye teachers who sell yourselves for that which will canker, why have ye polluted the holy church of God?” Can't get much plainer than that, can you? Moroni has been talking about the holy church of God, by which he means US.

He wants to know why we're ashamed to take upon us the name of Christ. He wants to know why we think the praise of the world is more valuable than endless happiness. He wants to know why we adorn ourselves with that which has no life, yet allow the suffering and needy to pass by us and we don't even notice they are there.

Could anything Moroni is saying in this chapter have anything to do with building a several billion dollar mall when there are poor and needy and so forth in Jesus' own church who could use a decent place to live (even in the US)?

Moroni mentions “secret abominations” to get gain. Secret. Gain. Would that have anything to do with the members of Jesus' church not being allowed to know how their tithes and offerings are spent (including the interest on their tithes and offerings, which Jesus says in a parable belongs to Him)?

Skipping to the last verse in chapter 8, the blood of the saints is mentioned again. Perhaps there is a whole lot more wickedness going on than we realize, or perhaps God views things a bit differently than we do, when the fatherless and widows and poor are tokenly helped, if at all.

So that chapter is largely to those who are members of Jesus' church, in general. Chapter 9, beginning in verse 1, is to those, whether in His church or out of it, to those who do not believe in Christ. Verse 7 begins Moroni's words to those (whether in Jesus' church or not) who deny the revelations of God, and who deny miracles.

Well, this post is already too long, so I will end now.

My Mother

My mother was awesome. When I was a teenager, "the generation gap" was a favorite phrase going around, but there was no "generation gap" in our family. My mother's children loved and appreciated her, even when they were teenagers, and she respected them and assumed they had brains and were capable of living their lives.

One day when I was a senior in high school, while waiting for a seminary class to begin (I only took one year of seminary, but that's another story), the students around me began complaining about their parents. Every single thing they brought up was a non-issue for me. I desperately wanted to add my two cents to the conversation, but I had nothing to add. I wracked my brain for a complaint about my mother and found none (my father was a non-issue for me but for a different reason). After school, I went home and told her that I was deprived because I couldn't complain about her, and I told her what had happened.

When I was about twelve, my father died. Even though he had never been part of my life, I began to be afraid that my mother would also die. I made her promise that if she died, she would tell me. I'd hear it from her before I heard it from anyone else (in our family, this was a perfectly reasonable request). When I was older (in my late teens or early twenties) we had a repeat of the conversation.

When I was a mother of three children (ages 1, 3, and 5) it was discovered that my mother had cancer. She moved to Salt Lake to live with one of my sisters, where she was exposed to deadly treatment. At the time, my husband had two part-time jobs. One was with a water company and the other was driving a bus for a small charter school.

The following May (my children were 6, 4, and barely 2 by this time) said spouse wanted me to come with him to work because he was reading meters. He could cut his walking time in half if I dropped him off at the beginning of a meter route then picked him up at the end of it. We stopped doing that when it was time for him to go to the school.

He took the two-year-old with him on the bus. The six-year-old child was playing on the playground. The four-year-old was asleep in the van. I was sitting in the van devouring some books I had recently gotten in the mail.

I don't know how it got my attention because I was pretty voraciously reading, but I became aware that my mother was standing in front of me as if the van wasn't even there (when I see things like this, I see them in my mind's eye). I looked at her. She asked me (in my mind), "Will you be okay if I leave?" I knew exactly what she was talking about. Aloud, I said, "Yes. I'll miss you, but I'll be okay." (The strange thing is, my aunt asked me the same thing later – in Salt Lake before Mom died.). I started to say something else, but she was gone.

That same day, while we were driving (I cannot remember if it was before or after the experience) around reading meters, my brother-in-law called my husband's pager to tell me to call him. We stopped off at a pay phone and I called. My brother-in-law didn't know whether to tell me to come up or not. It was a long way from southeastern Arizona to Salt Lake City. She had always rallied and come out of the hospital before. She was in a coma at this time.

To make the story way shorter, my sister who lived in Arizona and her husband came and got me. We drove straight through to Salt Lake, leaving my house Saturday morning and reaching Salt Lake Sunday morning. After briefly stopping at our sister's we went to the hospital. Mom roused briefly when my Arizona sister loudly announced that we were there.

The hospital put a cot in Mom's room so I could sleep there. I told her that my brother from Texas (another brother lived in Salt Lake) was planning to come and that his plane would be there at 9:20 p.m. Monday. That's when she died. (I don't know what the "official" document says, but I was there and I saw the time. They unplugged her, then came back and plugged her back in because they had been commanded to – Mom wasn't officially dead until some authority pronounced her so.)

As soon as Mom died, she was gone. Zip. She was outta that hospital. She always hated hospitals, so I don't blame her, but I think she went to meet my brother's plane. It was about an hour late, though, so I don't know what she did in the interim.

My Arizona sister came back with my brother – too late for him to say goodbye. As we rode in the elevator down to the main floor, Mom was with us. I wonder if my siblings had a clue that she was there.

It was a day or two later, after all of us had gathered (including my spouse and children), that we had a family dinner in my sister's back yard. Mom was there, enjoying herself immensely, laughing at the jokes our family makes when we are under severe stress (unfortunately, this didn't pass down – when my 17-year-old daughter was suffering the results of a legal attack from her step-father, she didn't appreciate all of the puns etc that came to my mind). Several times I had to stop myself from saying, "Make sure Mom has a plate."

Later, I wanted to verify that I wasn't making up the fact that she was there. I talked to my Salt Lake City sister, who is sensitive to spiritual things. Her response was that she didn't think about offering Mom a plate because it had been so long since Mom had been able to eat. At a later time, I wanted to verify again, more plainly. She said, yes, Mom was there at the family dinner.

Mom came around to help me deal with the stress of her death. When my Texas brother showed up at Mom's hospital room, I asked him if I could move into Mom's trailer (he owned it) and when I got back home, I moved out (it still took two years before I was courageous enough to divorce – the same brother gave me the money to begin the divorce and an attorney helped me fill out the paperwork – God prevented the man from grinding me to powder).

Anyway, Mom came into my dreams a few times. I knew when it was really her (as opposed to a dream processing her death) because I would feel so guilty for giving away her stuff. I would apologize and she would let me know she didn't care. She rarely spoke to me. She just hung out with me while I went about the business of dreaming. She also was there sometimes when I was awake.

One night, she came to me in a dream and there was no other dream of my own going on. We sat in swings in a deserted school yard (it was night). She told me that she had come to say goodbye. "I have to go deeper into the spirit world," she said. That was the last time she visited me in my dreams. She also left my waking sphere.

The Culture of Heaven

So, what is the culture of Heaven? I think if we were suddenly immersed in it, we would have a major culture shock.

Some of what we can be pretty sure of is that people don't go around hurting each other, stealing from each other, or cussing at each other. But we are so far removed from Heaven that we really haven't a clue about anything else.

If we were living exactly as God would have us live, borrowing His culture, what would our culture be like? Would we be coercing each other to wear a certain style of clothing? Would we be concerned with one's jewelry and how that person attached that jewelry to one's body?

If we were so close in culture to the culture of heaven, what sort of clothing would we wear? Would it be woven from animal hair or plants or would it be a substance of light?^[1]  What would we live in? How would we think? How would it be to live in a society with no need for a police force, an army, locksmiths, lawyers, hospitals, doctors? How would our babies be born? How would we raise our children? What would it be like to live where no one makes laws or creates rules and regulations, but trusts that we have the brains to make our own decisions?

If we had buildings, how would we build them? What would celebrations be like? Would we have them? What would we do all day?

You know, I don't really know enough about what I'm asking to ask the questions I want to ask. These questions I've written all fall short, but I don't know exactly how or why.

What is the culture of heaven? Are we not supposed to find out? Are we not supposed to be having angels of God appearing to us? Are we not supposed to be having dreams and visions? Are we not supposed to see healing of every kind, instead of limping to healers of the mortal persuasion (medical doctors, natural doctors, etc.)?

I want to know. I want to know how I should think if I'm to approach the culture of heaven without culture shock. I want to know how I'm supposed to act, how I'm supposed to think. I believe scriptures, especially a careful and prayerful and open study of the Book of Mormon will give answers to the behavior parts, and even to the thinking parts, to a degree, but I believe that the deepness I'm seeking can only come by direct communication with heaven.

Sometimes I have dreams from God. Sometimes I immediately know the meaning as I'm waking up. Other times I know it's from God but I have to study on what it is I'm supposed to get from it.

I want the culture of heaven. I want the understanding of heaven. I want all who are willing, to be part of this culture of heaven. I don't want one soul to walk in darkness or pain (causing it or being victimized by it). I want to become and once I have become, I want to shout to the skies to bring others that they may also become.

^[1] And it shall come to pass that I, the Lord God, will send one mighty and strong, holding the scepter of power in his hand, clothed with light for a covering, whose mouth shall utter words, eternal words; while his bowels shall be a fountain of truth, to set in order the house of God, and to arrange by lot the inheritances of the saints whose names are found, and the names of their fathers, and of their children, enrolled in the book of the law of God

(Doctrine and Covenants | Section 85:7)

Dreams, Miracles, and Choices

Restored post

Monday, September 26, 2011

Life can be really rough sometimes. I was lying here, thinking of my problems, wondering why God doesn't at least talk to me. (It isn't as if He never talks to me. If that were the case, I wouldn't be feeling deserted and abandoned.) Then I remembered the dream I had a few years ago. I said, “But I don't remember enough of what happened.” Then I began thinking about it.

I want to write the experience here. This is a copy of what I wrote about it on Tuesday, January 6, 2009, after I realized the dream was connected with an experience I'd had the day after Christmas, 2008. I wrote it as an email, which I shared with a few people. Any comments I have to make now will be in brackets [ ] . (It's a "copy and paste job" from the email "sent" folder, otherwise.)

Begin email -

I had a couple of interesting experiences. I didn't connect the two together until a few days after the second experience. I thought about sharing them with you but kept procrastinating. The thought kept persisting, so here it is. I'm sure some who receive this email will think I'm just weird. That's okay.

Several months ago, I woke up absolutely convinced that I had been to the afterlife/spirit world. I couldn't remember anything visually, but I was convinced that I had spoken with someone (women [women relatives/ancestors]) and they had told me I had the choice to stay there or come back to mortality. Then they showed me what would happen to my three children if I came back [stayed in mortality, instead of dying]. There was such a huge difference for good, that I decided I would come back. There was such a huge difference for good that I decided I would come back. As I lay on my bed thinking about this, I wasn't sure whether or not to believe how I was feeling and I mused, "I didn't even know I was in danger of dying." After all, I felt just fine.

The day after Christmas [the Christmas that had just passed, i.e. December 26, 2008], my ex-husband called (via Rachel - she relayed the message) from southern Arizona. He was there with the two younger children. He was expecting a package to be delivered to his door here in Cane Beds and didn't want it to freeze (it was bitterly cold here), so he asked if I would go to his house and put it inside. I didn't really want to but I thought I would "be nice" and do it.

Sometimes the UPS driver doesn't get to this area until after 5 p.m. so I waited until 10-15 minutes before 6 to leave. I told my husband (probably more than once) where I was going. (He forgot, though, which is very common for him). I thought about putting on boots but figured I'd only be going from car to house and back. I was wearing a summer cap-sleeve shirt, light weight pants, and sandals. I did put on a coat that has a hood.

As I got close to the driveway, I didn't want to get stuck (it is sand and clay) so decided to take the north driveway and park on the carpet. Well, the snow covered the area pretty well and I couldn't tell which dirt was safe. I got stuck before I could reach the carpet. The next door neighbors were not home.

It was so cold that I didn't want to walk up to the door to look for a shovel. I got out (with my coat on) and tried to kick the snow away (it was a few inches deep). That didn't work so I started digging the snow away from the wheels with my hands. Then I got back in the car and tried to move. By doing this a few times, I was able to move almost out of the bad area.

I was frustrated and angry. I cried and cursed (and God heard me anyway - weird). I thought about who to go to. The next people down didn't "feel" right but the ones [farther down] - B' - did. [This was maybe a quarter of a mile walk, not really very far. The area is in the country. Some of the houses are relatively close and many are not.] I figured Tom B would know how to get the car unstuck. But before I did that, I decided to try one more time. It was nearly completely dark and I wanted to see if the package was there before it got too dark to see it. I also wanted to check for a shovel.

It didn't feel as cold, so I walked up to the porch, the package was not there but shovel was. I brought the shovel back and tried digging out but still no luck. By then, it felt very nice out - like a summer day (for those of you who know what this means, yes, this should have warned me of danger but my mind was a bit altered as well). I put the shovel in the back seat of the car because I didn't want to carry it all the way back to the porch. I figured I could put it back when I came back with Tom to get the car out.

As I began walking in the snow, with my open coat, I thought, "It is so nice out here that I could just walk home." I wanted to take my coat of[f] and put it over my arm. I was not cold and I was not hot. I was comfortable. I lived close to a mile away. Tom lived about 1/4 or less of a mile away.

For some reason that I don't know (it's just what you do when the weather looks cold?), I tried to zip up my coat. The zipper is a bit stubborn anyway and it was even more stubborn this time. I finally gave up. But the coat had snaps so I snapped it up, put on the hood, snapped the bottom around my neck, put my hands into fists and drew them up into the sleeves of the coat. All of this seemed totally unnecessary to me yet I did it. I was still tempted to just walk home.

When Tom opened the door, I began to cry as I explained my predicament. I thought and felt like a total fool for crying over something as simple as getting stuck in the snow. After Tom opened the door, his wife (E) came to the door. She looked down at my feet and immediately became alarmed. She seemed to think I was in serious trouble. I couldn't understand why and I took off my sandals and took the snow out of them. My feet were fine. They didn't hurt. In fact they were as comfortable as the rest of my body.

She asked Tom to put a chair in front of the fire (they have a wood stove). There wasn't much space between the stove and the back of the couch but there was room for a chair with about two feet or so from me to the stove. I sat down. I couldn't feel the heat from the stove but didn't think about that. They told me to take off my coat. I wondered why. After all, the temperature inside of the house was the same as outside - comfortable.

E brought over a pan of water. It was probably, in reality, cool water. As she put it down in front of me she said, "Let me know if this is too warm." As I put my feet into it, they felt like I had put them into a fire. Immediately I pulled them out and put my hand in the water to make sure she hadn't given me boiling water. It felt a bit warmer than lukewarm but was nothing I shouldn't be able to handle. I tried again. Again, I couldn't do it. I ended up warming my feet with my hands until I could put them into the water.

Tom put another log on the fire after I had been there a several minutes. When he opened the door to the wood box, the heat made me move back (so that was a good sign that I was thawing out).

After a while, I told her I was ready for warmer water (she had told me to let her know when I was). Even later still, I took my feet out of the water and she had socks and slippers for me.

Tom said he'd see about getting the car out the next day when it was light enough to see what they (he and M [the spouse I had at that time] ) were doing. After I'd been there about 45 minutes or an hour I'd guess [emphasis on guess], I asked to call M. The phone didn't reach where I was so Tom called him. M had no idea where I had gone (like I said, this is normal for him so it didn't hurt my feelings).

After a while, they took me in the car after Tom had heated the car for quite a while. The car felt slightly warm to me and I commented on it being warmer than outside.

During the time I had been at the B' we had visited quite a bit and E had stressed the danger I'd been in and that if I had tried to walk home I would have been in the hospital having my feet cut off.

After my brain functioned better, I began to realize that had I not been protected by something or Someone, I would have taken off my coat and started to walk home - casually - enjoying the beautiful stars (it was a clear night). I would have never made it home at all. I would have gotten tired and sat down. [I would have sat down to look at the stars. Since I wasn't cold, there would have been no need to hurry. Then, I would have gotten sleepy, lay down, and slept.]

It took a couple of days to connect this experience with the intense feeling I'd had several months ago when I woke up knowing I had been invited to go to the spirit world/afterlife.

So, take it however you see it. I know what I believe and I have shared it because the feeling to share it would not go away.

Love to all,

Toni B

End of email.

The interesting thing is, my kids' dad died very suddenly and unexpectedly on October 14, 2009, a little over a year after I had the dream. (I had the dream a good three to six months before the experience that verified it the day after Christmas.) If I had died, then Clay had, I wonder what would have happened to my kids? Obviously, I was shown in the dream, but I still don't remember what I saw.

Perhaps, today, God is trying to tell me that He really is watching over me – and my children; that my feeling of being deserted is an illusion.