About Faith...

What's your definition of faith? 

Here's mine:  When you hope and pray, over and over for specific things and they don't happen;  but you STILL BELIEVE!

Craig has been very unhappy with his job since we moved to Utah two years ago.  We have fasted and prayed, and sent out resumes, searched the internet for jobs and hired expensive head hunters and still nothing. Even though he didn't like his job, every night we made sure to thank the Lord that we had a job that payed him, so we could afford to keep our insurance.

On June 15th our air conditioner broke on our home we own in Las Vegas.  I firmly believe that the Lord caused a miracle to happen and the air started working.  I also believe that it was the Lord giving us a progress report, telling we that he knew us and our situation, but that he couldn't bless us with a job just yet.

Then on June 29th Craig was layed off along with 125 other workers!  That wasn't what I thought would come next, but life is full of surprises.  Craig is continually looking for work, but with little success.  Thank goodness that our health insurance is a private insurance that we have on our own!  We have a little savings right now and are grateful for that so we can continue to pay our monthly insurance premiums.

Yesterday, we got a call from our renters in Las Vegas telling us that the air conditioner stopped working!  It was 113 degrees in Vegas when they called (poor renters).  Ugh!  Our unit is 30 years old, and they told us last time if it broke again, there was no way to repair it.  We are now looking at a bill of over $7,500 to replace the unit.

So I guess when it rains, it pours.  And so back to my definition of faith.  "When you hope and pray, over and over for specific things and they don't happen; but you STILL BELIEVE!"

We still believe that the Lord knows us and is aware of our situation.  At this point (which we have been several times before) it is so easy to rely on the "arm of flesh" and try and force things to happen.  I know from personal experience that this doesn't work, and actually causes the opposite effect, which can lead to a spiraling downward motion into depression. 

So what IS the answer for us?  Relying on the "arm of God" and trusting in HIS TIMETABLE and continuing to have faith, pray, read the scriptures, attend the temple, and listen and obey what the Holy Ghost promps us to do!

I love Moroni's admonition on faith in Ether 12:6.

"And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world
that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith."

Well, I guess this is just another chapter in the "trial of your faith" book in our lives.  Thank goodness in the scriptures that it says, "And it came to PASS", not to STAY!  I just need to remember that this too shall pass.  Thanks for sitting in on this little chat with myself :-)

"Stories on the Sabbath"

                                                            "The Gift of Receiving"
 
Twilight was falling, the headlights were still on, and a large crowd was gathered around the car, curiously quiet. Shattered glass and twisted metal lay on the highway. The wheels of the car were still spinning and an awful gloom filled the air. In the distance, a little dog was running peacefully across the road, unaware of the tragedy he had just caused. A woman lay unconscious amongst the debris. I was that woman.
 

All I remember is swerving, skidding, and then flipping over and over. The initial part of the accident happened so quickly. But as I flipped, time seemed to go in slow motion. When the car finally stopped, I was slumped behind the steering wheel. My right leg extruded from the driver's side window, bent forward under the car at an impossible angle and bathed in a widening pool of blood. Broken glass was everywhere.
 
The hospital became my home for the next four weeks, days filled with excruciating pain and endless nights filled with nightmares. The hardest part for me, almost harder than the pain, was having to learn to accept help from so many people. I had been through some hard times while growing up; consequently, I didn’t trust many people and had not allowed others to get close to me. Now here I was in a most vulnerable position, and I had no other choice but to accept help.
 
I am a convert to the Church, and prior to being baptized had a very strong dislike for Mormons. Over the course of events, my eyes, and also my husband Gary's, were opened to the wonderful gospel plan. During our conversion, we felt an outpouring of love from total strangers. Because of my past, however, I remained skeptical. How could anyone love me when they didn't even know me? As time passed, we began to feel the arms of our "ward family" encircling us.
 
Just before the accident, I was undergoing intensive training to be a midwife. On the fateful day of the accident, I was on my way to deliver a baby. I had been so busy in my life up to this point, and now all I could do was lie in bed in pain. The next months were filled with many hardships.  My first night in the hospital was spent in intensive care. Three different surgeries followed. My right femur was totally shattered, and third-degree road burns covered the entire inner side of my thigh. These were some of the darkest moments of our lives.
 

Then as quickly as despair set in, the compassionate embrace of caring, loving people wrapped a blanket of warmth and love around us. Within an hour of the accident our wonderful ward was in motion. Our home teachers and others were at the hospital with priesthood blessings and support. Friends took care of our son. It seemed our every need was anticipated and cared for. So many visitors, gifts, & flowers arrived that the hospital was forced to put me in a private room for self-defense! We gave away flowers to other patients who had none. Still more came. Gary slept at the hospital on a hide-a-bed couch throughout the entire ordeal. His loving service alone was indescribable.
 
While I was in the hospital, friends went to my home and cleaned it from top to bottom. They organized our library, which I must say was quite a challenge. When told that this had been done, I was deeply embarrassed. I didn't want anyone coming into my home and seeing my clutter! However, when I came home and saw the wonderful gift that had been given, the embarrassment evaporated. My friends had done something for me that I couldn't do for myself. I was able to leave the hospital because of our new, extended family. Women with whom I felt a special bond took a day each week and stayed with me. For eight weeks, ward members brought meals into our home every night.

 
Gary and I were raised to be fiercely independent and have struggled to learn how to graciously allow others to serve us. Through this experience we discovered the gift of receiving. Service is a two-way street. There has to be a receiver as well as a giver for the circle of service to be complete. The Lord has truly taught us the importance of being a gracious receiver. We have been the recipient of supreme service. When we learn to receive, we gain a better appreciation for the Savior's gift of His atoning sacrifice. It is our testimony that when Christ like service is rendered, if we lovingly accept it, we have then made real, the sacrifice of our elder brother Jesus Christ.
 
                                               --Dana Widdison, midwife, mother of two
                                                        (By Small and Simple Things)

Happy Birthday Brother Dear!

He's a REAL LIVE Nephew of my Uncle Sam.....Born on the 4th of July!!!!

Yep, that's right.  I have only one brother and his name is Gerald Lee Romney and he was born on the 4th of July and today's his 64th birthday!  Jerry (as we call him) has a beautiful voice and he loves to sing.  He is ten years older than I am.  One year we were at a 4th of July parade and celebration.  There was a huge group of people standing around and then all of a sudden a young teenage boy dressed up as Uncle Sam started to sing:

I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy
A Yankee Doodle, do or die
A real live nephew of my uncle Sam's
Born on the Fourth of July...

I remember turning to my mom to say something like that kid could totally be Jerry, cause he was born on the 4th of July.  When I said that, my mom smiled and winked at me.  I did a quick double take and realized that it was my brother Jerry singing after all!

Jerry was such a great brother to me.  He hated to do things alone and so he always wanted one of his sisters to tag along.  He had 4 sisters, and loved every one of us.  It's not every day that a brother gets to be involved during each of his sisters "dating" lives, but Jerry was.  He was a great dancer and we each have special memories of going to dances and having him take us out on the dance floor and doing the swing and other fun dances and just having a blast with him!  This is one of my favorite pictures of Jerry!

Jerry had two special knick names for me.  I never let anyone else call me those names.  They were "mitch" or "mud".  But when he was teasing me he'd call me "mitch-super mud". :-)

Jerry reminds me of my father.  He is so sweet and a man without guile.  He is a wonderful father and husband to his wife Pat, and daughters Sarah and Emily. 

Jerry loves the Lord and has always been an amazing home teacher and missionary.  There is nothing he wouldn't do to help someone else.  He is very proud of his heritage and  I'm so grateful to be able to call him my brother.  I love you Jerry - Happy Birthday!

"Stories on the Sabbath"

THE QUEEN OF DE-JUNKING!

I hated Saturday mornings!  Why?  Well, let me tell you…. It all started when I was a little girl.  When other children got to wake up leisurely and watch Saturday morning cartoons I didn’t.  When other kids got to go play with their friends all day long (or so I thought) it was just the opposite for me.  Saturdays were our family’s “cleaning day”.  But the problem was, our house NEVER got clean.  There was too much clutter!  I remember one Saturday begging my mother to go play with my friends.  Her words have haunted me ever since, “When the WHOLE house is cleaned, then you can go!”  Talk about an insurmountable task for a little kid.  It must have been at that moment that the change took place in me.  What change do you ask?  The day that I became the “Queen of De-Junking!”

As I walked through every room in the house, all I could see were stacks of junk.  You see our house wasn’t dirty; it was just cluttered with junk.  There’s a difference, just ask my mom.  Dirt is dirt, but clutter, oh with clutter there are so many possibilities.  As I glanced at one particular stack of junk, I asked my mother, “Why on earth do you have so much junk?”  It was then that I was given the definition of junk.  “Honey,” she said as lovingly as she could, “you see, one woman’s junk is another woman’s treasure. It’s not my fault I find hidden treasure everywhere I go!” J

Poor mom, she had to put up with me.  Wait a minute…poor me!  I had to put up with her and everyone else who never cared if there was an end to the “junk” in our house.  It was at that time that I began organizing our Saturday morning work schedule.  I made a chart and gave all the family members a job, including myself and my dad.  You see, giving mom a job was useless, because she had so many other jobs that it would not have gotten done.  I don’t think I was bitter towards her; I just couldn’t stand living like this.  However, after I got the family organized, I was finally able to start watching Saturday morning cartoons and playing with my friends.  Yes, the weekly cleaning jobs got done, but the junk, it never left.  I just learned to clean around it.  That was… until I got older.

As a teenager, I started to get embarrassed with all the junk in our house.  Why did we have to live like this?  I was the baby in the family and most of the other kids were gone by then.  They had lived through it, why couldn’t I?  Even our garage was crammed to the hilt with junk!  I could see that the weight of all of this clutter was taking a toll on my mom.  There were many times that I would go through the house when she wasn’t there and just start throwing things away.  My rationale was that there was so much junk, that she would never miss it.  Boy was I wrong.  It was like she had an indexed card file in her mind of all her junk and where she had it stashed.  It became a joke in our family that when we moved, the only way we would be able to do it was to light a match and walk away!

Sadly to say, that joke actually came true.  On December 27, 1976 our beloved childhood home burnt to the ground.  It was early in the morning when the fire started and interestingly enough, it started in the garage.  To this day we still don’t know if it was an electrical spark that caused the fire or natural combustion from all the junk!  I had spent the night at a friend’s house and so I didn’t experience the immediate trauma, but I have experienced and continue to experience the aftermath of the fire.  It took months for us to wade through the burnt debris. 

Amazingly enough mother was able to find “salvageable treasures” even from the fire.  In 1988, Mom and Dad went on a mission to Australia.  By this time they had moved to another city.  I was married and came to help them “de-junk” again so they could sell their house.  This time their garage was only half filled.  “Mother,” I said with praise in my voice, “I’m so proud of you!”  She smiled a weak smile and then led me to their back room which was filled from floor to ceiling with boxes of burnt books!  I could tell I would be up well passed midnight.

Several years later I took a similar journey to another city.  They had sold their house and my services were needed again.  This time I could tell my mother was starting to weaken.  Yep, after all of these years, I had finally worn her down and she started letting me throw things away with her permission.  “Wow Mom,” I observed with delight, “you’ve come a long way baby,” I said as I sifted through piles of papers, and physically threw them away while she watched.  I was feeling excitement to think that I had finally convinced my mother to “let go” of her “junk”. 

Later that night mother fell asleep while she was sitting on the couch.  What a great opportunity this was for me.  What I did next was strictly out of love for her.  I quietly crept passed her and out into the garage.  There, lining the walls, were the boxes of burnt books that we had been carting around for the past 20 years!  How ridiculous!  As I sifted through them, even the boxes that held the books were falling apart. 

I painstakingly took out each book and tried to decide if it was worth keeping.  For the next 2 hours I made progress.  I kept any church book or history book that might have held memories for mom and dad.  But the recipe books and other secular books found their way to the garbage, some with pages not even readable.  My hands were blackened from the soot on the books, but I felt quite accomplished as I shut the door to the garage and washed up before crawling into bed.  There were only a few hours left before morning and I didn’t dare wake mom up.

The next morning I found mom in the kitchen making breakfast.  “Hi mom,” I said with a sly grin.  “What she doesn’t know won’t ever hurt her,” I thought as I gave her a hug.  She was just as chipper as I.  “Good morning honey,” she said with a smug look on her face.  “Did you have a good sleep?” she asked.  “Yes I did,” I said with a sudden pit in my stomach.  “Mo---th---er”, I said in a long drawn out voice, “have you been up to something?” She didn’t answer.  I ran out to the garbage and found that more than half the books I had thrown away the night before were not there.  I came back into the kitchen and started crying.  The de-junking queen’s crown had just fallen off!

How did I survive you ask?  I took the opposite approach in my family.  I guess you could say that I even became obsessive.  Clutter you say?  Not in my house! As a matter of fact, if you were to put a piece of paper on the counter – don’t expect to find it there at the end of the day.  My husband and children often felt like they had to tie things down in our house so as to keep it safe from being thrown away.  I’ve been told that I don’t have a sentimental bone in my body.  I guess some of that is true.  Okay, so my mom’s got a problem and so do I.  But what do we both do about it?

Several years ago I went to a therapist to help me deal with my obsession of needing to be in control and my problem of throwing everything away.  You’ll never guess what I learned.  She said that I had a blockage from my past.  I had obsessed so much over my mother’s junk that it had transferred to me and was emotionally cluttering my life.  Isn’t that amazing!  As I looked thoughtfully at the therapist I asked, “Then what is the remedy?”  She immediately responded, “You’ll have to emotionally de-junk your life!”  She must have wondered why I laughed out loud.  “I can do that!” I said as I caught my breath, “after all, I’m the Queen of De-Junking!” I figuratively reached down, put my crown back on and said, “Let the de-junking begin!” 

Written by:

Michele Romney Garvin

July 31, 2007

You’ve come a long way baby!

I had my three month CT Scan this week and everything looks good. They do not use the term “remission” for ovarian cancer. What they do use is N.E.D. – No Evidence of Disease. So for now I have NED – which is good. My CA-125 blood test was 19 which is great too. Every 3 weeks I get the CA-125 blood test along with the Avastin. And every 3 months for the next 2 years I will have a CT Scan to monitor things.

These last couple weeks I have been blessed with a lot of energy and health. I’m so grateful for that. I still struggle with neuropathy in my feet that is such a nuisance! My feet hurt when I sit, stand or walk….so basically the only time they don’t bother me is when I’m asleep. So I might as well keep busy, because most of the time it keeps my mind off my pain.

I was able to go visit my mother in Arizona last week and enjoyed her so much. She is an amazing woman at any age, but here she is 88 and going strong. I helped her dejunk her room again (she was born in the depression area and continues to have the need to collect things). I didn’t know if I would feel up to doing what I have done in the past, but the Lord blessed me.  Here are some pictures of me and my mom. She planted this garden and it is growing like crazy.
While I was there in Arizona, I decided to declare my independence on my wig, scarf and hat. My hair is starting to grow back a little (it is coming in grey – much to my sadness). My mom was so sweet to let me take a “look alike” picture with her.  She has worn a wig since I was 4 years old.
Here I am wearing one of mom’s wigs.  She wanted me to wear it to her church, but I couldn’t bring myself to wearing it!  Don’t we look like twins?
 
It’s interesting looking back and seeing the progression that I’ve made. This will sound really shallow, but the hardest part of this cancer thing (besides having a terminal disease and the pain that goes with that) was losing my hair. I haven’t been ready to share this video until now. This is when we shaved my head – it was so traumatic to me that I even shed some tears. Tauna put it on youtube to send to me and I thought I was the only one who had seen it. Imagine how shocked I was when I saw that over 1,000 strangers had watched me losing my hair! So much for privacy:-(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ft1tSZOFQ80

I guess I never really appreciated having a full head of dark hair that I could comb or not comb if I didn’t want to. Before I felt comfortable enough to go out in public with or without make and not worry how I looked. Now, not having hair has made me feel so “vain”. I never thought I had a self-image problem until now. Because I had no hair, and then lost my eyebrows and eyelashes, I felt like I hardly had a face. So I HAD to put on makeup – even if I didn’t feel like it. It was months before I was comfortable enough for anyone to see me in a scarf. Then I slowly progressed to people seeing me with a hat and then finally when I debuted my bald head to my neighborhood who came and cleaned our back yard, it started getting a little easier. 

Last Saturday Tauna said to me, “Mom, if you will “own” your new hairstyle, everyone else will accept it too.”  She told me that the scarf and hat said “cancer” to people, much more than just having a really short buzz!  She was right.  After the shower I went to Walmart and I didn’t have hardly any looks, compared to when I wore a scarf.  Hmm.  Interesting.  Here’s a picture of me with Tauna the first time I publically went out with my new “buzz” cut.

Our 11th Grandchild is here!

Claire Nichole Garvin was born 17 days early and weighed in at 5lbs. 10 oz.  We were out of town when she was born and so these are some of the first few pictures of us getting to meet and hold Claire. 
    
She is so tiny and so sweet.  We are thrilled to have her part of our Family.  Dan and Kyrstin are her parents and she has a big brother named Logan, who is exactly 18 months older than she is.  He’s happy she’s here too and is giving everyone a run for their money!

"Stories on the Sabbath"

The Miracle of Service

The fields seemed alive with adventure.  We three young boys couldn't have asked for more.  Dressed in "army attire" and armed with our imaginations, we were off to do battle.  Partially opened soup cans filled with dirt made excellent grenades.  War raged throughout the fields as bombs were dropped and dust clouds billowed into the air. The unsuspecting enemy had once again been taken by surprise.
My father had served faithfully as bishop of our ward.  Shortly after his release, he was killed in a trucking accident, leaving behind a young wife and six children. My mother was 33, her oldest child 13, and the baby only eight months.  What a tragic loss!  Mother felt she needed the strength of her family, and soon we were living in Saint George, Utah, surrounded by large fields.

We found many hours of solace and enjoyment in these spacious fields.  They, too, became our playmates.  I was the youngest of the three boys and deemed a "private" in the army, so my assignment was to oversee production of the grenades.  I had become quite adept at loading the ammunition into the cans; but on one particular day, in my excitement to launch the grenades, one of the cans slipped and ripped the inside of my palm with its jagged edge. I felt an immediate rush of pain, followed by a great deal of blood.  I grabbed my hand and ran to the house. 

 After Dad died, Mother lived for her children, and she was a fine example of love and service to us all.  Having a love for her ancestors, she found time for genealogy and even served as the stake genealogical secretary.  What a sacrifice this must have been as she performed her work faithfully and still found time for all of us.  Desiring to instill in her children the importance of service and that same love she had for her ancestors, mother volunteered her three oldest boys to help with baptisms at the temple.  Our house was only a block and a half from the temple, so we were available at a moment's notice.

Blood was still dripping from my hand as I entered the kitchen.  With fear in her eyes, Mother immediately began washing the wound.  The cut was three inches in length and quite deep.  I remember begging her not to make me get stitches.  I don't know if it was because of my plea or because of finances, but I didn't have to go for stitches.  After cleaning it well and putting an ointment on it, she closed it up with three or four butterfly bandages.  She had just finished wrapping my hand when the phone rang.  It was the temple calling.

They were short-handed that day, and wondered if the Fish boys could come over and help.  Families from out of town often came to do temple work for a large number of names. If they didn't get the baptisms done that day, they often felt disappointed. I was only nine and a half, but in those days a person who had been previously baptized could perform baptisms for the dead.  On that day, my oldest brother had another commitment and wouldn't be able to help.  My brother just older than I was playing in a Little League game that night.  I had really wanted to go and watch him.  Looking at my freshly bandaged hand, Mother hesitated for a moment and then said, "Jon, when you get to the temple, tell them you are the only one who can make it today."    

Even though I wanted to attend the baseball game, I obeyed.  As I walked the short distance to the temple, I could feel the throbbing in my hand.  Brother Edwards was the one performing the baptisms that night.  I will always remember him because he was missing a few fingers on his right hand.  When he raised it to the square, I could see all of this hand.  I didn't have any idea how he had lost his fingers, but as I looked down at my bandaged hand, I somehow felt grateful for what I did have.

For several hours Brother Edwards and I performed our labor of love.  Each time we completed twenty-five baptisms and confirmations, he would stop and ask if I felt like I could continue.  I told him that I could. I really enjoyed going to the temple and being baptized. After personally being baptized for 400 people that day, I dragged myself home exhausted.

When I arrived, Mother was a little upset. I had never been at the temple that long.  She thought I would be gone for maybe an hour or two, but not all night.  I could see the worry in her face as she glanced down at my soaking wet bandages.  Quickly she gathered dry supplies to replace the wet ones.  As she unwrapped my hand, her mouth fell open in astonishment.  My hand was completely healed!  There was absolutely no sign of the trauma that had taken place earlier that morning--not even the tiniest cut or red mark!  We wept in each other's arms.

We had just witnessed a mighty miracle in our day.  Mother took the opportunity right then to teach me of the blessing I had received because of my service in the temple that day, and the experience remains very sacred to me.  Since then, I have had a special reverence for service.  I know that had it not been for my mother, I would never have given that kind of service.  Because of a gentle, persistent mother who provided her children with many opportunities to serve, the miracle of service continues in our lives today.

                         

                                                     --Jon B. Fish, now a Father of 5 and Grandfather of 5

                                                                   (By Small & Simple Things)

What do you do when you get inspiration that you don't want?

Yesterday we went to the temple and were asked to be the witness couple again.  I love doing that because it keeps me awake!  J  I was having a hard time keeping my mind focused on the session because of the things in my life that were making me feel overwhelmed.  One of the times we were getting up from kneeling at the altar, a thought came instantly into my mind, like someone threw me a ball and I was not prepared to catch it.  The thought said, “You should not teach Seminary this year!”  What?  No way, I have always wanted to teach Seminary in Utah.  I quickly pushed that thought aside and went on with the session.

These last few months I have been blessed with inspiration to write my life history, write a book on prayer and read the Book of Mormon in 70 days and create a daily blog to go along with it.  While all of these things are good, I have begun to be in turmoil, feeling like my plate is getting too full, yet not knowing what to do.  I fasted the previous Sunday asking the Lord to help me know how to balance all of the things that were coming to my life. 

Later that night, the experience I had just had in the temple telling me NOT to teach Seminary came back to me.  I pushed it away again.  Then I started getting this sick feeling inside.  "Michele, do you realize what you are doing?  You are picking and choosing the inspiration you WANT to receive and ignoring the ones you DON’T WANT.  It doesn’t work like that!"

My mind went back to last year, when we had made a list of questions we had and were going to try and receive answers during General Conference that weekend.  That week when we went to the temple, we decided to specifically choose one of the questions to ask the Lord.  We chose to ask him if we should sell our house in Vegas.  During that a certain part of the session that day a few words jumped out at me and I immediately felt impressed that I should teach Seminary.  This was one of the questions on our list to ask the Lord, but not the specific one we had chosen that day.  But, I knew I felt the impression that I was supposed to teach and I did not deny it.  Yesterday my experience at the temple telling me NOT to teach Seminary was the exact same way I had received the inspiration last year to TEACH Seminary. 

As I knelt down and began my personal prayers, this question was at the front of my thoughts.  “Why?  Why can’t I teach seminary this year?  I really want to!” My mind remembered what I went through last year and all of the hassle of getting hired, and getting my ecclesiastical endorsements and then I got cancer.  I prayed so hard that I would get to teach at least ONE time before I went into surgery and the Lord granted me that incredible blessing.  So now I am finally well, I am on my way to teaching again!  I’ve already gone to the Regional Seminary office and turned in some of my paper work.   Why not now????  I love to teach!!!!!

I have had the forms to get my yearly ecclesiastical interviews with the bishop and stake president again.  I was anxious to get them but for some reason, every time I have seen them lying on my desk, I just push them aside and don’t make the call for the appointment.  But I hadn’t interpreted that as a sign to not teach.  As I prayed I realized that yes, the thought that came to me in the temple was indeed inspiration and if I wanted to continue receiving inspiration in my life, I needed to obey its promptings, not just when I liked what the inspiration said to do, but ESPECIALLY if I didn’t agree with it, to show my trust in the Lord. 

BUT I’M A TEACHER….Let me share one final thought that came to me during my prayer that gave me courage to follow this through.  Several days ago I clicked on a Youtube video that was interviewing Gerald Lund, the author.  They asked him what got him started into writing, etc.  His final thought is what resonated and came back to me as another answer to my prayer.  “I love to teach, and writing is another way of teaching that reaches a far greater audience.”  This was my second witness that NOT teaching Seminary is the right thing for me to do right now.

"Stories on the Sabbath" - Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day

In Memory of my Dear Father

George Lee Romney

Nov. 4, 1917 - July 3, 2003

Words to the song I sang at my Dad's Graveside Service:

Dear Earthly Father, kind and true,

Our hearts will ever turn to you.

For wisdom, strength and earthly things,

For honor that your good name brings.

For hope and courage, father mine,
Your guiding light will ever shine.
Oh bearer of the priesthood true,

Our home is blessed because of you.

We thank you for your selfless love,

'tis now our anchor and our stay.

Like that dear one who dwells above,

Show us the way.

Dear Earthly Father, may we be,

Together through Eternity.

Oh  truest friend, and counselor too,

Our home is blessed because of you!

(Author not known at this time)

I love and miss you Daddy!

 

Click here to watch a special tribute to all Fathers

Does God give Progress Reports?

Our on-going problem of needing a better job continues.  Craig has fasted several times a week (I do when I can) and we are continually petitioning the Lord for deliverance from this job to a better one.  Craig is doing his part in looking on the internet for any job that he could qualify or “over” qualify for, but nothing comes.  Why?  This has been an off and on prayer that has lasted for the past 12 years!  I am impatient.  I guess if there was a prayer that I felt continued to go unanswered it would be this.  Why no job?  Why after over 20 years of having a stable, enjoyable job have we had to go through this experience? Am I asking the wrong question?  Should I be asking,  “What are we to learn from this?”  I know the Lord can provide a job for us, he did it over 30 years ago.  But why not now?

On Friday we got a call from our renters in Las Vegas.  They told us that the air conditioning in the kitchen area of our Tee Pee House had gone out and was blowing hot air.  On Saturday I started calling around to find an air conditioning company to go check it out.  They weren’t able to get there until Sunday.  As we were fasting on Sunday, we included the problem with the air conditioning in our prayers.  Later that afternoon we got a call from the technician and he said that our unit was almost too old to repair.  He said that the compressor was shot and so was the coil that went around the unit.  He said it would cost $4,500 to replace both those parts and since the unit was over 30 years old, he couldn’t guarantee how long that would last.  He told us that a brand new one would cost $7,500.  We just about died.  We told him that we were not ready to make a decision and would get back to him.  On Monday we had another company come out for a free second opinion.  When he called me back he said that the unit wasn’t worth fixing at all.  He said that it would cost $8,700 for a new one, but would give us $1,000 rebate for the old one.  WOW!  We still didn’t feel good about that, so we told him we would talk about it and get back to him.

In the meantime, Craig had called our dear friend and back door neighbor, Ned.  Ned said that he used Deke’s Air Conditioning for years and that he would try and get a hold of them.  Late Monday night, Steve from Deke’s Air went by the house and was able to get the compressor started.  He called Craig on Tuesday and said that he was able to get it started, but that it was very old and the next time it breaks down, it probably needs to be replaced.  Craig asked him how much we owed him and he said nothing!  Unvelievable! 

On Tuesday afternoon, by the time Craig got a hold of me to tell me this news, he asked me to call our renters and see if the air was still working.  When I called our renter, he didn’t even know that if had been restarted.  So he turned on the air while we were still talking and he said, “Wow, there is cool air coming out!”  We told him what had happened and told him to let us know if there were any more problems.

As I got off the phone, I immediately realized that this was an answer to our prayers.  I went directly into the bedroom and knelt down and vocally thanked the Lord for blessing our air conditioner to work.  Then I got up and found the phone number for Deke’s air and called and thanked them.  The wife was so appreciative that I would take the time to call and thank them for this favor.  I felt that if I didn’t thank both them and the Lord, that the cold air wouldn’t last long.

So later in the day I began thinking….(I was being such a brat!)  "Lord, I am thankful that you miraculously fixed our air compressor to work, but I would have rather had a new job for Craig!!!"  Ok, you might want to move away from your computer, in case lightening strikes it (haha).   I know this seems so ungrateful, but I am being truthful with my feelings right now and I'm trying to understand why God would answer this prayer and not a bigger prayer that we have prayed for months and years.  Of course no one ever wants to spend that kind of money, but right now we actually have the money and could have spared it.  So if we could bargain for answers to prayers, I would have said something like, “Lord, I feel like we need this prayer of getting a job answered more than our air conditioning fixed.”  But He in his infinite wisdom answers what is best for us.  I said to Craig, “I just don’t get it.  It’s not like he can’t get us a new job.  If he could cause the elements in our air conditioner to start working again….he certainly could cause us to get another job!”  Then Craig said, “Remember the law of agency.  The air compressor doesn’t have agency, but we as humans do and it takes a human to offer me a job”.

CAST YOUR MIND…. So last night I offered again a prayer of thanks and a prayer of forgiveness, for questioning the Lord.  Hopefully he will accept my apology and not take me out with a bolt of lightning.  After my prayer, the Lord gave me a tender mercy by way of “cast my mind back….. (D&C 6:22-Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.).  I instantly remembered the incredible miracle the Lord had performed on our FRIDGE in that same house on Tee Pee Lane.  (I need to go back to my journal and pull up that story.  I had completely forgotten about it).  It was the weekend that Byron was having his missionary farewell and we had a house full of company and our fridge went out.  The fridge part wasn’t cooling at all, and the freezer part was cold like a fridge should be.  So I transferred all of our freezer stuff out to the outside freezer and put some milk and few other things in the freezer part.  We got a cool chest and some ice for the rest of the stuff the fridge had held.  We didn’t even have time to do anything else because we left for Utah to take him to the MTC.  I remember praying FERVENTLY and using these exact words, “Please Lord, HEAL OUR FRIDGE!  We don’t have ANY money to buy a new one!”  We left for a 3 days and when we came back, the fridge was miraculously working.  That was a miracle!  But the most impressive miracle was that it worked from that day forward until we gave it back to the city and made $50.00 rebate on it some 9 or so years later.  Talk about amazing!

I was instantly humbled with this memory the Lord brought back to my mind.  It was right then that I knew he was trying to tell me something.  And this is what I felt he was saying to me.  “Michele, back then when I healed your fridge, it was because you had no money and you truly needed a fridge.  The reason I healed your air conditioner now, is not because of the money part, but because you need to know that I know you are there.  I am not able to bless you with a job right now at this time, but by blessing your air conditioner, it is like me sending you a “progress report” letting you know that I am pleased with your attempts to include me in your life.” Wow, reading that back makes ME cry!  I’m so thankful for a Heavenly Father that knows me and is patient with me and loves me with all of my faults.

"Stories on the Sabbath" - Bedtime Stories

Thank you all for participating in my prayer survey.  Your feedback will provide some valuable research for my book!  I am still in the compiling stage and so I will keep you posted with its progress.  Don't forget that TODAY (Sunday-June 10) is the start of our 70 Day Book of Mormon Reading Challenge.  Go to our new website www.bomsummer2012.blogspot.com for more details.

Below is a story that my mom (Pearl Tenney Romney) used to tell me about when she was growing up in Prescott, Arizona with her 9 brothers and sisters.  It's not only an entertaining story, but one that has taught me a principle I will never forget.  I thought I'd share her story with you today.

"It was a very hot Sunday afternoon in the month of July.. The boys had been to their early morning Priesthood Meeting before Sunday School and Sunday School was over for all of us. We were altogether with time on our hands until Sacrament Meeting. It was Fast Sunday and Sacrament was not held until eight o'clock in the evening. Some one suggested that we all go out to Granite Dell's and go swimming so that we could cool off a bit. There were no fans at Church to help keep us cool.... BUT IT WAS SUNDAY!!! Everyone rationalized that our parents would be understanding and would give their permission for us to go because it was so HOT and we all were FASTING and it was such a LONG TIME until Sacrament Meeting. Lyman, Eudora, Edythe and Pearl (the 4 youngest kids) were not so sure of that thinking. We knew what the rules were and knew that we were expected to live by them!!

It was decided that if we got the consent of everyones parents, then surely Bro. and Sister Tenney would give their consent for their kids to go too. Two of the boys had their parents cars that day and we ALL pilled in and started at Jimmie Harris's home. (Jimmie is a girl) Sister Harris said that Jimmie could go......then we were on to the next house.  I do remember going to Val, La Vetta, & Verona Despain's home, (Laura and Wendell Despain are the big brother and sister-in-law).  Sister Despain was told that ALL OF THE OTHER KIDS PARENTS ARE LETTING THEM GO SWIMMING AND PLEASE COULD THEY GO TOO?! The answer was YES, if all of the other kids could go. I can't remember who elses home except Nelo and Elda Scott's that we went to.  I do know that we got everybody's consent before we went up to the Ranch to talk to our folks. We felt that PEER-PRESSURE would be to our advantage.

All the kids stayed outside and all the Tenney kids went in to do the talking. I don't know where Dad was, but Mom listened to our story and pleadings and was very calm, cool and collected. We finished our presentation with "EVERYONE OF THE KIDS PARENTS HAVE GIVEN THEIR CONSENT FOR THEIR KIDS TO GO AND WE WANT TO GO TOO!!! "

Mother looked at us right in the eye, everyone of us. Then she said, "You have been taught the correct principles of keeping the Sabbath Day Holy. There comes a time that you must make your own decisions as to how you are going to keep this commandment. Today is one of those times. I am going to leave it up to you as to what you will do about it!" Now the "PEER-PRESSURE" had been turned on US.....outside were all of those kids waiting to know our answer. We four kids got into a huddle and came up with the decision that WE WOULD GO SWIMMING!! We told Mother and she said if that was our decision that we could go. WE WERE SOOO HAPPY TO HAVE HER CONSENT!!!! (??)

We were having the time of our life swimming there at the Dell's. It was such a big beautiful cool place to be with all of our friends. This was TRUE HAPPINESS FOR US!!.......All of a sudden it started to  THUNDER AND LIGHTNING AND SPRINKLE. The Lifeguard ordered everybody out of the pool. (Remember the pool was BIG WITH AN ISLAND AT ONE END AND A COVE IN ANOTHER AREA OF IT.) It was no easy thing to get all of the swimmers to hear and come in.  I do remember that I had just had my turn to swing on the rope and drop or dive off into the deep water when the call came for us to get out of the pool. So I swam towards the side that was the closest to me.

Nelo Scott was just behind me when I got near the metal steps and just then another BOLT OF LIGHTNING HIT THE WATER WITH A VERY LOUD CRACK!!!! I thought that I had been HIT BY THAT LIGHTENING, but how could I, I was STILL ALIVE!! When I got out of the water, I found a big RED STREAK RUNNING FROM MY EAR CLEAR DOWN TO MY ANKLE AND FOOT!! Nelo Scott, who was close by had some marks on his body too. I don't remember any others having been hit.

Our whole group learned a lesson that day because of the two of us being hit by lightning...... "NEVER GO SWIMMING ON SUNDAY! KEEP THE SABBATH DAY HOLY!!!" This has been a good object lesson for our kids and our grand kids and I hope our little great grand kids will hear the story as they get older and learn from it too. I HAVE NEVER GONE SWIMMING ON SUNDAY SINCE THAT DAY!!!I think our mother had a direct line to Heavenly Father that day!! All of this is true!!!"
                                     (Written from the hand of Grandma Pearl Tenney Romney)

Making Memories!

I've been feeling really good this week and keeping busy with all of my new projects.  I thought I'd share some fun memories we created and re-created this week.  I bought a $29 wig and felt 10 years younger. haha (Don't worry - I'm going to cut it). 

A little over three years ago our family went to Guatemala to pick up our son Daniel from his mission. He served 20 months in the jungles of Polochic where he spoke an ancient Mayan dialect called Kechi. There is very little civilization and the people who live in the higher mountains have dirt floors, no elecrticity or running water. We took with us 30 "portable washing machines" to share with them and help to make their burdens lighter. It was a wonderful experience trying to teach these people a new way of doing their wash. Below is a 5 minute video of our experience with these people.

http://providentlivingnews.blogspot.com/2008/12/humanitarian-service-project-in.html

"Stories on the Sabbath" - Let's have a BOM Summer!

WHAT WILL I GIVE UP FOR SCRIPTURE STUDY?
The other day I was reading an article in the Meridian Magazine on making scripture study a habit by Joni Hilton.  There was a comment at the bottom by Brother Kay D. Jenkins that has haunted me all week.  Below is his comment.

"You missed the most important reason to read the Book of Mormon daily. Pres. Benson and Elder Oaks told us in a talk by Elder Oaks (D&C 84:54, 55) that we are under a condemnation from God or in other words under a curse if we don't read the Book of Mormon daily. In March 1, 1996 over 15 years ago, I decided to do just that. I started reading 10 chapters a day and found I could read the B.of M. every 24 days cover to cover. 
Then I started reading 30 chapters a day and found I can read it every 8 days. I am on my 564th reading as of today. I also found if I would read 10 chapters in the N.T. I can read it every 26 days and 10 sections of the D&C, I can read it every 16 days. I also experimented with the O.T. only once, by reading 30 chapters a day I can read it every 31 day. At 10 chapters a day I read the B.of  M. in about 35 min. and at 30 chapters a day I can read it in about 1 hr. & 30 min. on average..."

I couldn't believe this and thought that the guy must have no life except for reading.  Actually I hate to admit that I was turned off and about to click out of it until I read Brother Jenkins last statement.  "I had to give up a whole hour of TV watching every night to do this." 

Wow!  All week I kept thinking about how much I need to improve my scripture study and his comment kept haunting me.  I had to ask myself right then, "What am I willing to give up for Scripture Study?" Is it too much for me to sacrifice an hour of tv to grow closer to my Savior?  What are you willing to give up?

Let's have a BOM Summer!

Several years ago I had the experience of reading the Book Of Mormon in a short period of time.  It was one of the greatest experiences of my life.  My husband and I went on a week vacation during our challenge and for the first time while on vacation, we actually read our scriptures every night.  It was a powerful lesson on the importance of being consistent once a goal has been set, and being able to see the fruits of our labors.

Inner strength, greater commitment and determination often comes from knowing that you share a "common goal" with someone else.  Knowing that others are having the same meaningful experience can strengthen your resolve to keep a goal.  Not only are we extending this challenge to our Sunday School class to have a Book of Mormon (BOM) Summer, but we have also decided to open up this challenge to our family and friends.  So if you are in a scripture reading "funk" and need a boost, come join us! 

We have created a blog http://www.bomsummer2012.blogspot.com/  where we will post the reading chart and share daily spiritual thoughts to keep everyone motivated and on schedule. There will also be a place that you can make comments on any insights you might have gained during your scripture reading.  We want to have at least 70 people accept this challenge, so that we can try to post a picture every day, of someone who is reading the Book of Mormon. Please pass the word!

REMEMBER…

The other day Tauna said, “Mom there is something on your eyelash.” I said, “honey, there can’t be, remember I don’t have any eyelashes.” She looked closer and reached up to remove a piece of white lint from my eyelash. “See,” she said, “you do have eyelashes!” I couldn’t wait to get home to see my new eyelashes.

Then yesterday as Amy and I were standing by her car she said with excitement, “Oh Mom, you have eyebrows!” I said, “Honey, I don’t think so.” She then said, “Yes you do, the sun in shinning on them and wow – there’s actually a lot of them!"

It’s so interesting how quickly things change and how fleeting our life can be, either for good or bad. Last month I tried a new herb called Alpha-Lipoic Acid (ALA) that was supposed to help with my neuropathy in my feet. I had been using it for a couple of weeks and hadn’t noticed any improvement and so I told my doctor that it wasn’t really helping. He told me to go ahead and stop taking it. I tapered down and finished off the bottle, not even thinking I would notice a change. The next week my feet started to “KILL” me! This went on for 2 weeks, until one day I realized that maybe that ALA had in fact helped. I went to the store and bought some more and this time, I started noticing the slight improvements along the way. It wasn’t all at once, and it is not a cure, but in the long run it helps me be able to endure the pain.

It wasn’t until I was completely out of this stuff, that I finally realized the benefit it had been for my feet. Then I thought of how this kind of parallels our life. The Lord blesses us every day and many times we don’t see it, until it is completely gone. Then we look back and sorrowfully realize that we had been blessed and watched over by Him.

REMEMBER – this is the most commonly used word in the scriptures. The Lord wants us to remember all the tender mercies he has given us and as we do, we will feel His love even more. It was actually on Memorial Day, as I sat cross-legged on the grass, watching my two sons play in an outside volleyball tournament, that I paused to remember. Six months ago, I would never have been well enough to sit on the grass, let alone cross-legged. I wouldn’t have been well enough to even be there sitting in a lawn chair.

Today I read a blog post from Alisa http://joshalisa.blogspot.com/2012/05/if-wishes-were-fishes.html where she was in the hospital last week and missed all the final events and recitals of her children. My heart ached for her and it caused my mind to reflect on where my journey has taken me.

I remember after my surgery, asking the husband of my cousin who had passed away, if I would ever be able to experience joy in my life again. He said I would, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. But now I can say yes, there is joy everywhere I turn…but it’s all about remembering how far you’ve come!!!!

Last week as I got to go to my granddaughter’s pre-school graduation, and sit on a hard chair through both granddaughters (long) dance recitals, I realized this would never have happened six months ago.

 
  
All the sewing, babysitting, baking of bread, and hiking I have done lately, all would never have happened 6 months ago either. When we went hiking, I was able to walk up the mountain, but when it came to coming down hill.... it killed my toes, so I tried walking heel, toe, heel, toe. Check out the 12 sec. video clip below, 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4KKYY6s7qLU&feature=youtu.be

When I look at what I have been able to go do, I ask myself, “Am I forgetting how sick I was and how far I’ve come?”  I can’t believe how easy it is to fall back into the way things used to be. There are many times that I forget that I am still recuperating, and run “faster than I have strength”, but as I lay my exhausted head down at night, I try to look back and REMEMBER how far the Lord has blessed me to this point.