A Good, Christian Fighting Mother

My mother is the most loving, giving and nurturing woman you'll ever meet, and a closet Nintendo Ninja. 

There are several works-in-progress or half-done sewing projects strung throughout the room.  A light blue, pink and yellow French-rose baby quilt stitched together from my sister's baby clothes is pegged to quilting frames in the left corner.  Looking closely you can see intricate, tiny stitches that would rival the Amish create a detailed quilted pattern.  This quilt has been here for a couple of years. It started as a gift for my sister's first daughter who is now 4.  But, the stitches have to be just right.

The right corner has stacks of cut out aprons waiting to be sewn.  Each was planned with a woman in mind and fabric to match her personality.  The pattern has a retro style to it, with a hole at the top for the neck and a ruffle at the bottom.  Of course they are reversible, because they need to be beautiful on both sides. These are intended as birthday presents for 27 special people. 

In the center of the room is a multi-colored marble maze made of primary colored plastics to entertain children.  It is one of those pull-apart-and-rebuild-again types, where you can construct the maze in whichever order you want: the spiral first, or maybe the wheel, sometimes the funnel or the zig zag. 

Tucked away in the corner behind the quilting frame is an old television with a Nintendo 64 attached to it.  It seems like it would be long forgotten, especially with so many other things around the room, that it almost becomes lost. However, on a special day, you might catch a glimpse of magic in this corner. This is where my mother plays Dr. Mario.  She leans back in the padded banana chair to sprawl her legs wide placing one foot on each side of the old tv on the forgotten armoir and braces herself.  This is her battle stance. Concentration and genius rise in anticipation for the battle that lies ahead. She selects Dr. Mario as her avatar because, that IS the master and main character.  He is the commander and captain of the virus-killing army.  She selects a higher level to play and fire lights her eyes as she gets 3 seconds to see what she’s up against: the amount and array of viruses she will have to kill with copious amounts of colored pills.

The buzzer rings and there she goes! 

Informing the Public

My plan to share my personal essay about my mom's closet habit will be a little difficult.  I don't necessarily want to share something my mom doesn't want shared.  So... I need to be very careful and calculating in how I share it.  I want to share it with:

1. My Uncle Alex.  He left the church 50 years ago when he was offended.  I think he feels like Mormons put on this "perfection" show and he just isn't ready to commit to that.  I am going to email it to him and ask him about how it relates to my mother.  I have been trying to get him to read the Book of Mormon for a long time and I know that if he does he will gain a stronger testimony and maybe the strength to come back.

2. My Aunt Connie.  She is my Uncle Alex's wife and said she reads the Book of Mormon on occasion.  I want her to be able to read the Book of Mormon everyday and to feel the power of the gospel.  I know that they are on the cusp of coming back, it is just going to take all of our efforts and small but consistent efforts to get her back.  I am going to email it to her or go to visit her and see what she thinks.

3. Polly.  She is a girl I taught on my mission who almost got baptized.  She had strong family opposition to getting baptized and is still clinging to the church in all ways that she can.  I want her to know that members of the church are real people and that they can have strong values but strong personalities.  I am hoping that it will encourage her to keep pursuing the gospel and eventually joining the church. I will send her a link to my blog post.

4.  My cousin Winston.  He grew up not very religious at all.  From his point of view, Mormons are too goody-goody and have to follow a weird mold.  I want him to realize that we have personalities and that my mom has a fun side.  He comes down to Arizona to see his girlfriend and I think knowing my mom has a spunky side will make him want to come and visit more.  I am going to post the link to my facebook, tag him in it and say "Did you know your aunt was a closet nintendoer?"

The Sneaky Way

I think sometimes it is very difficult to share personal experience and personal opinion.  Maybe it is because we are afraid of being judged, ridiculed or analyzed.  Maybe it is because there is such a thing as "over sharing"- T.M.I. and the whole casting-pearls-before-swine thing.  Regardless, today is the age where information can be shared and spread very quickly and it can become "viral" instantly, either in a good way or a bad way.  In no time at all, you can be praised or maligned by people around the world. Because of this, political or personal subjects are risky to share and have to be shared in the right way...maybe from the viewpoint of someone else.


I think we all have sought advice by saying "So my friend (insert controversial topic here)" to someone we trust or value their opinion, really referring to ourselves.  It is because we don't want to be judged or we want to gauge the reaction of others before spilling the beans.  This takes the personal connection out.  They can't be disappointed or angry at us because it was "our friend" who believed in such-or-such or got in trouble with so-and-so.

This is why it is a good tactic to share beliefs, strong opinions, politics and all other controversial topics through fiction. The blame or praise can all be placed on someone who doesn't actually exist.  I think Douglas Thayer does a fantastic job of this in his recent novel, "Will Wonders Never Cease" in which a mother talks about taboo subjects like sex, masturbation, same-sex attraction, and political correctness.  The mother essentially tears into her son for calling someone "gay" which arises thoughts on accepting people in the Mormon community who have such affiliations.  She affirmed that they can be strong, active and completely worthy members of the church if they continue to live the same commandments everyone else does.  There has been much controversy about this recently in the church, and it is a good way in narrative form to sneakily bring in Thayer's thoughts on the subject.
 I think if Thayer wrote it from a personal narrative, he might get a lot of hateful comments as being blatantly pro-gay or maybe affiliated that way.  But, like I said, opinions coming from fictional characters allow for people to be a little more un-attached and not necessarily attack ideas they don't believe in because those ideas could be fictional.

Sisterly Bonding

It has been fun to talk to my sister about my mom's closet Nintendo habit. She is the one that had described to me her battle stance and some of the comparisons to Captain Moroni. I even got her to comment on the blog! We're going viral folks!

She gave me some good suggestions and comments, saying that I characterized the room perfectly and set the stage well.  I think the room describes my mother, except she is very organized. In talking about my mother, we quickly came to the conclusion that she is an angel of a person and we'll all have to hang on to her coat tails in order to get to heaven.  She also commented that I should talk a little bit more about the character of my mother, so people don't just get the Dr. Mario expert side. I need to make more comparisons between her character and Captain Moroni, but it might be a fine line before it becomes too sentimental.

In reflecting on my mother and her quirks, I have decided more of a wife and mother that I want to be. I'm getting married in less than a month and it is a big life-changer where I am going to establish habits and character traits.  I think it is important to have little quirks and habits of my own to keep my mind sharp and keep me spunky. Or maybe I should sharpen my Dr. Mario skills and challenge the master.  I have had an opportunity to reflect on things that matter and connect with my sister as we reminisce over our wonderful mother.

Title of Liberty

There are several work-in-progress or half-done sewing projects strung throughout the room.  A light blue, pink and yellow french-rose baby quilt stitched together from my sister's baby clothes is pegged to quilting frames in the left corner.  Looking closely you can see intricate, tiny stitches that would rival the Amish create an intricate quilted pattern.  This quilt has been here for a couple of years, started as a baby shower gift for my sister's first daughter who is now 4.  But, the stitches have to be just right.

The right corner has stacks of cut out aprons waiting to be sewn.  Each planned with a person in mind, the fabric to match their personality.  The pattern has a retro style to it, with a hole at the top for the neck and a ruffle at the bottom.  Of course they are reversible, because they need to be beautiful from both sides. These are intended as birthday presents for 27 special people.

In the center of the room is an intricate marble maze made of primary colored plastics to entertain children.  It is one of those pull-apart-and-rebuild-again types, where you can construct the maze in whichever order you want: the spiral first, or maybe the wheel, sometimes the funnel, or the zig zag.

This is the only room in my house that isn't decorated and cleaned to perfection. I love this room.  Magic happens in this room.  This is where my mother plays Dr. Mario.  This is the one game she loves, because this is the game she will always win.  She says it's because it keeps her brain sharp, but us kids all know the truth.  This is the game that brings out competition and genius inside my mother.  She leans back in the padded banana chair to sprawl her legs wide placing one foot on each side of the old tv on the forgotten armoir and braces herself.  This is her battle stance. I can see concentration rise in her eyes as  she selects Dr. Mario as her player, because, well... that IS the main character and master.  Fire lights her eyes as the game counts down from 3, giving her just a flash of the amount and array of viruses she will have to kill with colored pills.


The buzzer rings and there she goes!

Her fingers whiz away on the joystick, as if to massage and coax the joystick into obeying her every command.  She stacks the pills perfectly and presses down on the buttons to speed the drug delivery.  4 of each color stacked together and a virus is dead.  Her mind and hands together build intricate patterns of colors so that one fatal pill can wipe several viruses all at once and send open fire to the opposing force.  I'm pretty sure she shouts at the viruses in her mind to die.  I see it in the spark of her eye, but she would never say it aloud.  Unless of course she slips a "stink" in, which sometimes happens.  That is the closest she will ever get to swearing.  She is really good at this game and beats my butt every time I play against her.  My cheeks sting as I think about it.  She'll try to persuade us all to play with her, assuring us that she really ISN'T that good, and that we'll probably beat her.  But we all know.  If she doesn't have anyone to play with, she'll play against the computer on the highest level.  Because winning isn't winning if you don't really win.  This is the only thing I have ever seen my mother be remotely prideful about.  But I love it when she wins.  She gets humbly smug, an emotion I didn't even know existed, but somehow she manages.

Every time I watch my mother play Dr. Mario, I am reminded of Captain Moroni in the Book of Mormon.  He too was a genius in battle and strategy with a passion to fight for a good cause. In fact,"If all men had been, and were, and ever would be, like unto Moroni, behold, the very powers of hell would have been shaken forever; yea, the devil would never have power over the hearts of the children of men."  He didn't glory in killing, but in doing good, preserving his people and strengthening their forts.  He erected small forts, places of resort to strengthen their fortifications and give them advantage in battle.  He gave his life to defend his people and had such charisma and passion as to recruit him to the cause of the Christians.

My mom does the same.  She may not be defending a nation and a people, but she fights for me, strengthens me, fortifies me and builds me  places of resort.  She only glories in doing good and has an incredible knack of calling me to her cause, whether it be fighting fake viruses or sewing a quilt for someone who needs it.  This is her Title of Liberty.

An Adult Take and Tone in Tyler Chadwick's "My Daughter's Favorite Bedtime Story"

Oh man!  I just realized I had forgot to post my post!  I guess I learned my lesson on drafting it in Word.  Sorry for the late post, but here it is!

I love Dr. Seuss and it is no surprise to me when he is a favorite of others.  "Do you like my hat?"  has become a beloved phrase in the Nelson house, as we begged my mother to read "Go, Dog. Go!" again and again.  It looks like it is Chadwick's daughter's favorite too.  Seeing as she knows the ending, I bet she begs him to read it over and over too.

                                                                    

This poem is arranged in very long stanzas- the first being 28 lines describing and analyzing different parts of the book.  For example:

Mid-ocean, midnight, / the black water smooth as sleep,/ or maybe death, but she'd never think of that,/ would she?

The lines are broken up into thoughts, almost miniature tone-shifts themselves.  Much of Chadwick's lines and thoughts are like this, taking an adult perspective to a child's book. This is shown in sentence length (he has very long, intricate sentences, whereas Dr. Seuss has small, short phrases) , as well as commenting on things like "impossible three-story rowboats."  He adds realism to fiction and even adds hints of Seuss to his sentences.  I feel like he longs to see the world and stories through his daughter's eyes, as  one who waits for a final party and wants to read the same story over and over again.  

 The first stanza builds to Dogs together at last, eating big slices of cake and jumping on trampolines directly to a tone shift into the final 6 lined stanza reminiscing over a book ending and starting over. Is that how children work?  It has been a long time since I've been a child, but I am pretty sure they are prone to mood changes.  They build up excitement and wonder, only to slow down when it's over and begin to climb again.  

This hints at several LDS themes.  One, being child-like innocence, wondering and waiting for that "final party" where all the "dogs from the book come together."  I think that this could allude to heaven.  All us dogs from life coming together to eat cake and celebrate.  Another, being to start over again.  Life is a cycle with childhood, adolescence, adulthood- which essentially starts over with each new generation.  I hope my children will have the same child-like wonder in books that I did, and that I have the same adult-like wonder in children as Chadwick does.   

Giving Hands

 Baby bottom soft and slightly wrinkly, they are the most beautiful things I have ever seen.  The tendons in her hands line up next to each other like freshly-planted crops with blue veins watering between them, just waiting to gift mother nature's bounty. 
                                               
 These are giving hands, yielding hands.  My mother's hands. Always outstretched in some sort of service, each wrinkle and liver spot tells a story and stores a piece of herself that she gave to someone else. I love the perfection of her and her hands, but I love their "imperfection" even more. 

Thirty-three years ago she was given a small gold wedding ring with a quarter carat diamond in the center.  She wore it humbly and proudly but one day it didn't fit.  My dad lubed her finger up with butter and tried to pull it of but that dutiful ring didn't budge.  It hadn't budged in twenty one years. It had a front row view of years of service and sacrifice.   So he wound floss around her finger tightly.  Her finger turned red, then blue, then purple the veins pulsing angrily for relief.  I panicked at the thought of her losing one of her precious fingers.  Take any fingers but my mothers!  After an eternity, the ringer slipped hesitantly off her finger and her finger was bare.   A new ring replaced the old one, my dad surprised her.  Maybe not so humble and dutiful, the new ring sparkled and shined.  It is platinum and has 3 diamonds instead of one.  It's one of those past, present and future rings.  Which, I guess is only fitting as they have a dutiful past, a sparkling present, and a timeless future.  She loves it and raises her last two fingers in a wave-like motion just so the light will capture the individual cuts of the diamond.  She casts a rainbow everywhere she goes.  She has always been modest and this is the first time I have ever seen her show off anything.   She reflects her marriage in her hands. 

After showing off the ring came hints of her sassy side. Every day for thirty minutes my mother's hands exercise her brain by playing Dr. Mario on an old Nintendo 64.  She plays on a tv that was long forgotten, but is up and out of the way in her game room turned sewing room.  The room is piled high in quilts or dresses or projects for someone else waiting to be finished.  She loves too many people.  But when her hands ache from working the needle through thick fabric, or cutting out seemingly endless amounts of fabric she takes a break and turns on the forgotten tv tucked away in the corner.  She has a banana chair set in front of the old set and will lean back so she can sprawl her legs wide to place a foot on each side of the tv, almost like she is preparing to give birth again.  This is the one game she loves, because this is the one game she will always win.  This is the one game I get to see a hint of the competition and genius inside my mother.  I get to see her natural man, her enemy to God side.    Her fingers whiz away on the joystick and the different buttons, cursing viruses as she desperately tries to save the sick with copious amounts of colored pills.  I'm pretty sure she shouts at them in her mind to die.  I see that spark in her eye, but she would never say it aloud.  Unless of course she slips a "stink", which sometimes happens.  She is really good at this game and beats my butt every time I play against her.  My cheeks sting as I think about it.  The only thing I have ever seen her be remotely prideful about. But I love it when she wins.  She gets humbly smug, I didn't even know such an emotion is possible, but somehow she can do it.  She reflects her personality in her hands.    

These are her opportunities to plant nourishment back into the soil of her hands.  Nothing can grow without nourishment.  This gives her the strength to scrub grout, sitting on her hands with her hands  clenched to the scrub brush, moving back and forth between the work of the dirty grout and the eroding simple green that leaves her hands red, cracked and dry.  This gives her the strength to play with, take care of and carry five grandchildren who all want to crawl all over her and get as much of grandma as possible.  This gives her the strength to rub my back in the morning, waking me up with her cold hands as she snuggles close to push me out of the bed.  She lies there for a few minutes after I get out, talking to me about my plans for the day and adding the appropriate tidbits of advice.  I have many mantras.  This gives her the strength to make several batches of  succulent jam to give to the neighbors, or dip professional-looking caramel apples, or comforting cookies as my best friend prepares for her wedding, or consoling casseroles to someone sick or in need.  She always imparts of her substance.  She has true charity.  She reflects her love in her hands. 
  
  I want my mother's hands.  Mine are the exact same shape and size, yet not as beautiful.  I don't have so many stories. My new engagement ring is gold with a single diamond in the center and will sit dutifully on my hand for twenty one years or more.  Every time I look at it I think of my mother and the devotion she showed to my father.  I anticipate my marriage to be the same.  Right now I only have a sparkling future.  As soon as my ring took it's seat I started to wave my fingers in the same manner my mother does.  I guess I am just hoping that my hands will become her thirty-three years in the future hands, overnight.  I want her skill in Dr. Mario and her desire to heal the pretend sick with bottles and bottles of fake pills.  I want to be domestic goddess like she is in all things cooking and cleaning and giving and playing and tending and caring.  I want to yield fruits of my labor like she does.  I want a mother's hands.  Holy hands.  Beautiful hands.  Hands of selfless service. 

Perfectly Pious

Every time Sister H gets up to the pulpit everyone holds their breath.  There is an audible breath drawn in almost collectively.  Mothers blush as their children make noise or argue and fathers holding smart phones pretending to "look up bios of the prophets" squirm in their seats.  The message is always the same: money is evil, people in the ward have money, therefore, the ward is evil.  She gets up humbly flaunting her very modest choices in clothing: always the same style earth-toned pioneer skirt and a peasant top or button-up shirt in some sort of a neutral print.  She never wears a heel or jewelry, because that goes beyond the Law of Consecration.  That breaks the mold of the perfectly pious.

She'll start with some sort of scripture like Matthew's "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God" and segway into how most of the people in our ward have "stuff" (said in a condescending tone of course) like boats and trailers and ATVs that will do nothing for our salvation.  Instead, her children wear second-hand clothing and cultivate necessary talents like becoming a scriptorian.  A talent I actually do want to cultivate... on my own. They don't seek worldly talents like sports or dance like the vain do.  It's not all condescending, she will encourage us to live the Mormon Mold, seek to live the Law of Consecration and devote our lives to God through service.

Which is not to be marred by the recent arrival of Brother F, an endodontist who spent the last 6 weeks in South America on a medical mission giving complimentary dental work to people about to lose their teeth. When asked about his trip he would modestly and humbly disclose that he provided his own supplies and fare for the trip.  Nor is it to be marred by Sister K and Sister J who provide a weekend's worth of  meals to over 100 kids in Mesa each weekend whose teachers know they only eat at school.

Maybe definitions of pride, wealth and service are different for each person, but Sister H has helped me on the way to scriptorianhood.  Maybe she encouraged members of the ward to let go of worldly things or maybe she encouraged them to serve instead.

Called to Serve

Narrating an Inner Struggle
This decision could change the course of my entire life more than any other decision.  I thought college would do that or my major, but I don't think it matters too much what I decide to do career-wise.  Maybe even marriage would do that, but this decision would probably determine who I would marry and what type of life I would live.  No, this is the most important decision.  No pressure!  Do I go on a mission?  My twin sister has already received her call.  That was a HUGE surprise.  Would I be going because she is and twins do everything together?  What about the temple?  Am I considering this because everyone else in my family is endowed and I want to be too?  Or is this for me?  What about my boyfriend?  He just came home and I thought I was going to marry him, but I am not feeling that so much now.  Is it just doubts?  Or is it wrong? But I thought it was so right and he doesn't seem like the waiting type.  Do I just let go and give him up?

I don't think my bishop would like me going on a mission, I am dating someone and he is definitely the pro-marriage type.  Do I talk to him about it any way? But wait!  He just came up to me and invited me into his office, "lets open your papers" he said.  Wow!  That was unexpected.  I didn't even hesitate to say "okay"- even more expected.  So maybe this is right.  Maybe I want to serve the Lord.  Maybe I would be willing to go any where.  I think I am willing to have doors slammed in my face and people reject what means so much to me.  I think I am willing to give up a full scholarship, a well-paying job, and approximately $8,000.  I think I can leave my family for 18 months.  Is it worth all the sacrifice?  Yes because my life will be changed forever.  I want to give people hope, knowledge and faith.  I want them to see miracles and know there is a God who loves them and knows them personally.  I want them to enjoy the blessings of the temple.  I am going, so here goes everything.

Scripture, Personal and Powerful/ Wilderness Quest- one experience combined

I walked silently through the dark, hearing only my footsteps crunching on the pine needles and the rhythm of my breaths.  Crunch.   Breathe in. Crunch.  Breathe out.  I wonder if I will have an experience like his- a First Vision type of experience.  I set up my camping chair at the base of a tree, perched my flashlight on a branch aimed at my lap so I could read the letter and my scriptures without fiddling with a flashlight.  After an inner battle at what order would heighten my spiritual success, I decided to read the letter from my mom first, pray second, and read the scriptures third.  I opened the manila envelope with a tree pasted to the front to retrieve a small letter written on tree paper from my mother.  "Dear Hailey.......". I read the entire letter, but fixated on one phrase.  I focused all of my attention on a few words my mother had said.  I wish I could be that person.  Never have I wanted a quality more in my life, a quality I didn't think I possessed, but for some reason leached myself onto.  I felt pulled to it.  I want that to be true.  Never has my heart wanted something so badly in my life.

I was suddenly aware of all of my surroundings:  the beetle climbing the tree, moths dancing around the flashlight, casting shadows on my letter.  I heard an elk call in the distance, maybe a mile away but in my personal space, all was still and quiet.  Just me, my thoughts and my rhythmic breathing.  How peaceful.  I knelt down on the ground, my knees protesting to the pinecones, needles and rocks underneath, but I didn't care.  I clasped my hands in a firm grip and began to pour out my heart to heaven.  Every muscle in my body tensed in concentration. I plead, I begged, I promised, I wished with all of my heart to have what my mother said about me to be true.  I prayed for one phrase.  What seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes of devoted supplication, ended and I felt peace.  The cool night air turned instantly warm and I felt like I had been wrapped in a fond embrace. Maybe it would come true.   I sat back underneath my lighthouse, my wooded sanctuary and opened the scriptures.  Any random place would do.  I flipped open to a page and a sappy pine needle fell onto my perfectly crisp page.  I brushed it away and gasped.  Right where the pine needle marked the page was my phrase!  That beautiful phrase.  That phrase I had been yearning for the last few minutes.  It was promised to me in scripture and by my mother.  I sat there for a while, praising God, looking at the stars and His marvelous creations. The stars peeked through the spidery limbs of the trees, like fingers reaching toward heaven.  If only my fingers could reach so high. With the same detail that He created the Milky Way Galaxy, Orion's belt, the Dippers and the North Star that I could see so perfectly and clearly in this wooded night sky, He planned my life.  Yet how much more important are we? I picked up my chair, hesitantly brushed off sticky pine needles from my clothes- I had grown fond of that sap- gathered my scriptures, retrieved my flashlight from its perch and more silently than before walked back to the gathering place.  This time the needles didn't crunch.  Nothing so harsh.  This time they crinkled.  This time my breaths were even, not really noticeable.  I must be consumed in my thoughts and wonder at creation and how the world and everyone's experiences fit together.  Was that scripture written for me?  Or was my mother inspired to write that exact phrase?  Or was it both?

Leadership in the time of Death

So I really struggled with this assignment.  All of my chapters in the Book of Mormon are war chapters, and it's kind of hard to draw similarities between war and sentimental, memorable situations.  So here it goes folks!

Example #1 paying attention to character
Alma 53:8-20.  The 2000 stripling warriors are described as young men who were raised well by their parents and who were strong in faith and it defending their family.

I likened this to Tori Fawson's post about how a creepy, old man said that their parents did a good job with their children.  They may be referencing physical attributes maybe.  But, I think we can all say the parents of the stripling warriors did a good job.

Alma 53:8-20 also describes the Nephites and the 2000 Stripling Warriors protecting and taking care of the Anti-Nephi-Lehis, or the inhabitants of Zarahemla.  These are people that could not have land of their own, take care of themselves or defend themselves on their own.

I saw similarities in both Jeremy Hardman's  post about helping and taking care of a woman who could not take care of herself, and Viridiana Balderas' post about her grandmother saving her from falling.

Example #2 paying attention to dialogue
Alma 46: 14-21 Moroni expresses his displeasure that the Kingmen will not rise up and fight against the enemy that is attacking them.  He also expresses displeasure in their pride and nobility and compels them to be better.  He uses very strong words.

I likened this to Darren Torrie's comments on Elder Bailey and how he is a good man, but a man that is not afraid to express his displeasure.  Like Captain Moroni, he had good and motivating intentions but his voice could get a little loud.

Example #3 paying attention to tone
Alma 48:7-19.  Captain Moroni is described with a tone of reverence.  He is one that could boost morale, one who prepares "the minds of the people to be faithful" and prepares them in all things for the future battle.

I thought the tone in Andrew Olson's post was very similar in how football coaches and Linkin Park were able to give powerful pre-game speeches to boost morale in a time of turmoil.

My Mother's Hands

1.  Physical Experience
My mother has beautiful hands.
Baby-Bottom soft but not smooth= kind of wrinkly
same shape and size as mine
you can see all the tendons in her hands, like planted rows in a farm with blue veins watering between them.
Smell of simple green and a vigorous brushing sound as mom scrubs the tile


2. Scenes
I remember when my mom's wedding ring didn't fit anymore.  She couldn't get it off.  Her ting was gold like mine, with a diamond in the center.  Again like mine.  My dad lubed her finger up with butter and tried pulling, but when it wouldn't budge and her knuckle started swelling, giving her the "muffin top" look, he stopped.  Then he had a bright idea.  Floss.  Somehow he wrapped her finger really tight with floss and I remember panicking as my mom's finger turned red, then purple, then it was violently trying to pump blood, I could see the veins throbbing with motion.  She can't loose such a beautiful finger!  Not my mother's precious hands!  Finally it came off.

She has a new ring now.  This one isn't gold and has 3 diamonds instead of one.  She loves it and raises her last two fingers in a wave-like motion just so the light will capture the cuts of the diamond.  She is modest and this is the first time I have ever seen her show off anything.

3.  Speech
"I hate my hands.  They are so old and so ugly"  she said.  I protested in great horror.  "They are so beautiful!  Each wrinkle and spot have a story, an act of service."  I can't convince her to love her hands as much as I do.

Her running commentary as she plays marbles with her grandkids,  Or sculpts playdoh.  Or teaches them how to swim.  Or running around playing capture the flag- a game I taught them and implemented.  She is such a good sport for doing that.  Oh the laughter as her and my almost 70-year old aunt chased each other.  They were running at the exact same pace, my aunt in front as my mother chased her trying to reach out and tag her while strapping down her chest.... those pesky things always get in the way.  My dad couldn't contain himself. And preferred to be a bystander just so he could laugh.  My mom's hands to everything.

4. Emotion in the Moment
My hands and my mothers hands are the exact same shape and size.  Mine are just a younger version.  I love it.  I want my hands to do what my mother's hands have done.  I reverence her hands.  She is always serving, always doing something for someone else.  Her hands never rest.  The only difference between her hands and mine are the nails.  She has delicate, long, perfectly-curved nails.  I have never seen them any other way.  Mine are purposefully and stubbornly short. Never even and never filed.  I hack them off with nail clippers as soon as there is any white.  I play the violin with my hands and there is nothing worse or more annoying or ugly to me as long nails.  Except my mothers.  Only her nails can be long.  Only her long nails are pretty. I hope she keeps hers long.

5.  People of Consequence
 Everyone my mother serves is someone of consequence, at least to her.  Her first grandchild is a tribute to her- a miniature version of my mother in every way except for personality.  Bryten has spunk and sass where my mother is unfailingly sweet.  But Bryten's face is an exact replica of my mother.  It seems only fitting that the first grandchild would be so.  Bryten is even as flexible as my mother was- she could do the splits until I was born.  At age 33.    My dad has a mini-me grandchild as well.  Little Nash- who is the same as my dad in EVERY way.  Even his humor, his run, his grin. I think my mother secretly has an extra soft spot in her heart for him. She hold's Nash's hands in the same way she hold's my dad's hands.  A little extra tenderly.

Elder M. Russell Ballard's Hidden Commandment

When we hear the word "conceit" we often think of being selfish or self-centered.  However, in literary or rhetorical analysis the term is used when the author incorporates a story throughout the article or speech, almost like an allegory.  Elder M. Russell Ballard of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles uses this in almost every single one of his talks, but I chose to compare his recent address "Stay in the Boat and Hold On"  and his talk from October 2013 "Put Your Trust in the Lord".

The comparison starts with his choice of title.  Each of the titles is a short phrase in command form.  It tells us that he is going to give an action for us to follow and maybe even the tools to do it.  This comes as no surprise, as Elder Ballard has served many times in counseling and leadership positions, including serving as a Counselor to his Mission President at a young age.  Each of these talks start off by a story, personal or second-hand to illustrate the concept he is about to speak on.  In "Stay on the Boat and Hold On" he tells the story of his friend on a rafting trip, and in "Put Your Trust in the Lord" he tells a story of him and his wife travelling to visit missionaries.  Both stories have "recently" within the first few words and portray a sense of urgency to keep on the right path and move the work forward.  He relates a story of an individual person and applies it to the entire church.

For both of the talks, he then goes on telling us exactly how we are to follow through with his initial command, his title.  In "Stay on the Boat and Hold On"  he weaves the rules of the river rafting trip through his counsel to keep the covenants and obligations we have made as members of the church.  In "Put Your Trust in the Lord" he weaves his story of touring missions through the commandment to share the gospel and how to be more involved in missionary work.

This device is a hallmark of his, and is quite effective in relaying his message and making it personal.  Personal stories woven through a message allow for the audience to relate to the message and make it possible to apply it into our daily living.

Ye Shall Prosper in the Land

Spoken Word Seen in Alma 47-53:
Alma 47:13- Amalickiah speaking with Antipus
Alma 47:25-27- Amalickiah raising havoc to believe servants slayed the king
Alma 47:34- Amalickiah and his men testifying to the queen
Alma 50:20- Lord blesses the Nephites
Alma 50:31- servant of Morianton telling Moroni of his plans to go northward
Alma 50:39- Pahoran's oath as chief judge
Alma 51:9- Amalickiah swears to drink the blood of Moroni
Alma 51:17- Moroni commands his army to go against the kingmen
Alma 52:3- Ammoron commands to take cities by bloodshed
Alma 52:19-Moroni and Teancum have a council of war
Alma 52:24-Moroni commands army to take possession of the city
Alma 52:19-Moroni commands army to fall upon the Lamanites until they yield
Alma 52:37 -Moroni tells the Lamanites to give up
Alma 53:14- Helaman persuades Anti-Nephi-Lehis to keep oath.

In almost every piece of literature, the most important words are written in dialogue or quotation.  These are the words to remember, these are the words worth emphasizing.  In analyzing spoken word in the sections above, I noticed that the words spoken in quotations (italicized) are the words that require particular attention.  In Alma chapter 50 verse 20, the Lord blesses the people of Lehi saying,

"Blessed art thou and thy children; and they shall be blessed; Inasmuch as they shall keep my commandments, they shall prosper in the land, but remember, inasmuch as they will not keep my commandments they shall be cut off from the presence of the Lord."

Every instance of the Lord speaking to the people is found in quotations in the Book of Mormon.  This section even contains a parallel structure in the dialogue.  There are not too many instances of the Lord being quoted in the scriptures, only when it is necessary to speak directly to the people.  As a context, the Nephites were enjoying a short span of peace and prosperity.  Wars had just ended, the people became "exceedingly rich" and did "multiply and wax strong."  This is a cyclic pattern in the scriptures: a few years of peace lead to prosperity, which leads to pride and eventually a fall.  I think this is why the Lord spoke in parallel form.  He was promising and warning them after a pattern.

The Weight of the World

 Jeffrey R. Holland has an unparalleled ability to inspire personal responsibility in all who listen to his sermons.  In his adress "Of Souls, Symbols, and Sacraments"  he uses great imagery to call attention to his address.  Elder Holland  mentions that the future of this world's history will "be in [our] hands very soon.  Because of this, he encourages the rising generations to receive high and full educations to be contributors to society.

He furthers this responsibility by saying that this future "must be vigorously fought for".  These simple words call the audience to action.  To rise.  To fight. To struggle.  It all depends on us.  In essence he tells his audience and members in general that if we don't fight for our beliefs and values, they will be stripped from our hands by those "more bloody" than ours.

Later in the sermon, he mentions that unless we support his teachings, the sacredness of doctrine will be sullied and what would be a sacred experience could turn into a devastation.  We are not to be "casual" or "careless".  By addressing these consequences and the seriousness of the subject, especially by likening it to the weight of the world being in our hands, Jeffrey R. Holland is very successful in calling his audience to attention and to immediately start to apply what he is teaching.

In reading his sermon, as soon as he mentioned that the future would be in my hands, I started thinking about carrying the weight of the world.  As soon as he mentioned that we should not treat the gospel casually or carelessly, I really paid attention to his words.  I felt personally warned and personally responsible to carry out whatever his message was as soon as he started speaking.

Jeffrey R. Holland used the same tactics in a similar sermon addressed to Temple Square missionaries that I was privileged to be a part of.  The first thing that he said to us was that the brethren pray for us sisters every day, because we are carrying out part of what they have been called to do, but do not have time for.  We have been called to fill a part of their shoes.  Instantaneously, I felt inspired and responsible to carry out part of the work of an apostle and to do it in the way an apostle would do it.

That is why Jeffrey R. Holland is so successful- he commits his audience before he shares his message.

Commandeering a Kingdom

1. Form Analyzed
I wanted to look at the main characters, how they were described and why they matter.

2. Passage Analyzed
My section was Alma 47-53, but I wanted to focus on Amalickiah usurping the king of the Lamanites.

3.  Annotated Text

4.  Breakdown/Listing of things found

The king must have been very harsh and overbearing.  He doesn't talk to the people, just sends proclamations.  His subjects are scared of him and run away from him.  He tries to compel them and only has few followers.  However, Amalickiah is described as cunning, inspiring and one who commits a lot of fraud.  The people elect him and recognize him as their king.  He talks to the people directly and gains favor of the entire population.

5. Interpretation.

The king of the Lamanites and Amalickiah had the exact same goal: to be ruler over all the people including both the Lamanites and the Nephites.  The king of the Lamanites was not successful because of the Ethos that was presented.  He was overbearing, commanding and did not talk to the people.  They did not trust him because of it.  On the other hand, Amalickiah goes with the people, inspires them through his cunning and wisdom.  He thinks through the entire plan to become the king.  In so doing, he accomplishes what his predecessor dreamed of.  He inspired the people to go against the Nephites, rather than compeled them.  His character and what the people saw him as made all the difference.  

6. Connections/Questions

How many leaders in the Book of Mormon were successful in inspiring their subjects because of Ethos- because of the way they portrayed themselves?  Is inspiring people more successful than compelling them every case?  Does fear motivate them or faith? 

All Is Well

I haven't often paid attention to literary form in church talks or pieces of oratory.  The only instance I remember is in a talk I wrote to fit a form.  The only time I spoke in church on my mission was 3 weeks before I went home. With over 200 missionaries in one ward at once, your time to teach over the pulpit happens only once.  This is the  pinnacle of your preaching, your one word, your final phrase.

What did I want my sermon to be?

The most profound lesson I learned was that history repeats itself.  There are many patterns in the scritpures: Nephi and Joseph of Egypt, Lehi's journey and Moses's exodus.  To correctly portray this lesson I decided to mash-up my favorite chapter in the Book of Mormon, Alma 24, to a beloved hymn whose subject mirrors that of the Anti-Nephi-Lehi's sacrifice.  So my talk became a parallel walking journey of the Anti-Nephi-Lehi's conversion and the pioneer's trek to the Salt Lake Valley, through the words of Come, Come Ye Saints.  

"They would give up their own lives.."
And should we die, before our journey's through...

"And praised God even in the very act of perishing."
Happy Day!  All is Well.

"They are blessed, for they have gone to dwell with their God."
We then are free from sin and sorrow too, with the just we shall dwell.

"The people of God were joined that day by more than the number who had been slain."
But if our lives our spared again, to see the saints their rest obtain.

"Thus we see that the Lord worketh in many ways to the salvation of his people. "
Oh how we'll make this chorus swell, "All is Well, All is Well."

I believed this form to be successful, as the point was to make comparisons that history and lessons of the Lord repeat themselves, that God is the same yesterday, today and forever.  There were several comments on the form as a style that they had never heard over the pulpit.

DESERET

“Zion…as the head, the glorious front of the world’s civilization, would arise and shine ‘the joy of the whole earth.’ “ Orson F. Whitney

As Brigham Young entered the Salt Lake Valley he knew that the saints would labor hard and be busy building a Byzantine.  So he sought a symbol, the beehive.  Bees are hardworking, industrious and work together for the common good-a glorious civilization.  He let that symbol fly!  Beehives now colonize the streets and buildings of the Salt Lake Valley and several businesses support the name deseret.  Building the community and working together, by necessity, became the early saint’s mantra.

Build Zion. Build the hive.

 This theme is highly populated in Nephi Anderson’s “Added Upon”, we see this in every section of the book:  In the preexistence, the spirits busy themselves in forming a network with each other, in creating and forming the world.  They assemble.   In earth life, Rupert, like a bee, devotes his life to building.   He sees great pride and necessity in building his rural circumstance, not only for his family but to create a bit of a metropolis, or “oasis in the desert” like the pioneers.  He reflects over his property and the growing colony, noting that by his labor the community flourishes: A glorious front of civilization. He did this again with the Jansons’ property before returning back to the mother hive at Dry Bench.

 Colonize.  Build Zion. Build the hive.

In the Spirit World, he held meetings to gather the people, to build them up to populate heaven.  The Millennium section starts out with the mantra to arise and shine.  The communities are colonized centering on the temple, a Zion-like community. 

Build the temple. Baptize.  Build the kingdom.

And the Celestial kingdom, “on which to build and multiply and spread” is a dominant theme of the last section of the book.

Build the kingdom.  Build Zion.

Hailey N.

As The Lord Liveth

I served in the Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission.   To reward us for only one hour of church each week, and at 7 in the morning, our Mission President arranged for General Authorities to come and speak to us in Sacrament Meeting every month or so.  We heard from Richard Hinckley, L. Whitney Clayton, Ronald A. Rasband, Jeffrey R. Holland, just to name a few.  Of course their respective messages were profound and inspiring, but the message that shaped my life came in the form of a literary tool. L. Whitney Clayton  stated in passing over the pulpit that the phrase "As the Lord Liveth" is a declaration of absolute truth. As surely as there is a God and that He lives, whatever statement in the scriptures contained that phrase was absolutely true. That peaked my curiosity and I delved into the scriptures looking for such references,  I found 25.

What doctrine I found!.  I learned that the declaration of "As the Lord liveth" was a solemn oath and was considered most sacred in the ancient Middle East- there is none more binding or ominous.

This sparked a search of not only "As the Lord liveths" but of formulas and direct, promised blessings.  I now have and add to pages and lists of  how to qualify for the Holy Ghost, glorify God and make decisions.  These have opened my eyes to the covenants and promises of the Lord and have solidified my testimony of the past and of what is to come.  I guess you could say that as surely as the Lord lives, I know that the church is true and that the Book of Mormon is the word of God.

-Hailey N.