Our Compassionate God

Recently, I was staying in a hotel in Boise, Idaho with a friend. Our room was directly across from the guests' laundry room. On one side of our room were the stairs. On the other was the room of the ladies who had given me a ride to Boise. Sunday morning, my friend left to go home (had pressing business that prevented her from staying the full weekend). That afternoon, the ladies and I were going to meet some people for lunch.

I was in my room, pretty much killing time, when I heard what seemed like a year old baby throwing a fit. I didn't hear adults and supposed they were ignoring the child. A few minutes later, I opened my door to go out and right next to the door, pressed into it, was a two year old toddler, screaming and crying hysterically. I glanced into the laundry room as I picked her up. It was empty. I had felt incredible compassion for the child the moment I'd opened the door, and I told her, "We'll find your mom." She stopped being hysterical, but was still upset. I knocked on the ladies' door, and when I did, the toddler calmed down even more. When the door was opened, I explained what had happened and that I was going to take the child to the office (front desk) to see if they could find her mom. The ladies went with me downstairs and, on the elevator ride, one of them coaxed out of the child that she was two years old (she never spoke the whole time she was with us).

When we got to the front desk, I explained what had happened, and told them it was on the second floor. One of the ladies behind the desk came around and held her arms out to the child. The child hesitated for a nano-second. You could see her deciding if she could trust this person. Then she leaned over and reached out to the lady.

After we got back from lunch, we inquired at the front desk. Was the mom found? The man there had just begun his shift not long before. He said he had not seen the child, but had heard others talking about the incident, and, yes, the mom had been found.

Later that evening, I was talking to God, and he told me, "The child is a sign to you." He told me that the compassion I'd felt for the child was the same compassion he felt for me when I was hysterically scream-crying out to him because of being homeless (or threatened with it), not having enough food to eat, worried about other problems, or just plain having a freak-out attack for no reason that I knew of. He also let me know that just as I had taken immediate steps to solve the toddler's problem when I realized what was happening, so he, also, took steps to alleviate my suffering when I was freaking out.

I am sharing this experience because he told me to. He told me that this compassion he feels toward me is the same compassion he feels toward everyone. Our sincere prayers are always heard, even if we don't see immediate results.

Iohani Wolfgramm - Man of Faith and Vision

Iohani Wolfgramm - Man of Faith and Vision 1911–1997

Zion – How?

I had an incredible breakthrough this morning. God gave it to me and I am very grateful for it.

I often say affirmations in a meditative state. In one that I had written about a month ago, I had written that my cells “retain” certain traits (forgiveness, faith, etc.). It didn't feel right at the time I wrote it, but I could think of no other word that would fit. The image of a river came to mind, yet I didn't know how to incorporate that into the sentence.

Today, there was a complaint, again, about the use of the word “retain”. I said to whoever was complaining that I didn't have a word to replace it. Sad to say, I was a bit impatient and rude about it. Again, they suggested a flowing river. I didn't get it. Finally, they suggested I use the word “flow”. I did (for example, “my cells flow with forgiveness”) and got the image of (forgiveness) flowing like water through my cells gently and peacefully.

In other places, I had used the word “filled”. I changed them to “flow” as well.

Then I began to have a paradigm shift. This small, simple word-change opened my eyes to the flow of life. It's all a flow, from God's angle. “One eternal round” is a flow. Nothing is retained. God's love freely flows outward to all creation (as an example). Because of that, love continuously flows through Him, always and forever.

It is the devil who retains things, who teaches us to hold onto things.

Then I realized that the reason we give God the glory and the credit – even if we worked our tails off to accomplish whatever we have (physically, emotionally, or spiritually) – is because when we give HIM the credit and the glory, we release our hold on what we have. It is no longer ours, it is God's. Thus we cease holding on, and the flow begins to happen.

It isn't that God is greedy and wants credit for work we have done. It's that He understands the law. He knows that the best, quickest, easiest, and only way in this life to let go of everything is to give all glory and credit to Him.

If we gave it to ourselves, we would clutch it tighter, thus it would either slip out of our fingers or canker our souls. If we gave credit to another person, we would be putting ourselves beneath them. If they accepted the credit and glory, they would be putting themselves on a pedestal of pride and self-glory.

We do ourselves and others a favor by giving God the glory.

As we let go, we realize that all we own and have belong to God (at least that is what happened to me, as this incredible paradigm shift took place). Suddenly, giving away all of our possessions if God so wills it is no big deal. Losing all we have is not important either. If we need it in the future, God will give it to us because all of life is constantly flowing (except in areas where our fears or greed make it stick and putrefy).

I freely admit I'm not 100% on that level yet, but the paradigm shift has pushed me into that level of thought and being.

And I not only saw, but I understood, that when this paradigm change is complete in any person, when they can genuinely give or lose everything and honestly not care (because all really belongs to God anyway) then that person is ready for Zion. This is the Zion mindset we are presently lacking.

The flow of life. Nothing is “owned” by anyone. As it flows through each person, each person continually has all they need – like a river that is always full even though it is always emptying.

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.