It's a little after 7:30; the heater hums. I can hear the shower in the master bath. I have a raw throat and a slight headache, and yet all is good.
Three of my sons will be speaking in church today. The house is full:. grandma and grandpa, aunts and uncles. Marci has made a great dinner, which she started working on last night. I chipped in, cleaned what I could, still having to monitor how much I do, due to an infection.
I woke up early, showered, and then played a video of a talk by President Deiter F. Uchtdorf, "Receiving a Testimony of Light and Truth." I have a lesson to teach, but I think I will simply play the video and then let the spirit guide the discussion. Sometimes that is best--to spend our time in reflection, openness, rather than constructing our message. Prepare myself mentally, spiritually, but let the content of my lesson unfold according to God's will, not my own, based on the needs of those in attendance. It's like writing a poem--let the energy of the moment unfold line upon line, or in this case, comment upon comment from the energy of the class.
Besides, there is no way I could mirror Uchtdorf's thoughts adequately.
While reading it, a song by Chris Kristofferson, "Sunday Morning Coming Down," came to mind. Not too long ago I was in a priesthood meeting where the teacher said something to the effect that some people are just not as spiritually-wired as others. It hit me like a brick. Wrong.
If God exists and he has sent each of us here with a pathway home, then everyone has within them an instinctive yearning for truth and light.
Europe speaks of a God-shaped hole, a yearning for simplicity, reassurance and light. The hole exists because a connection has been severed, but the shadow of it, continues to call home.
It is impossible to know what will trigger the desire to dial back into Heavenly Father. It could be something as simple as Sunday morning coming down.
For me it was a beautiful Thanksgiving day spent with a warm family in El Paso. They are not members, but being there made me realize what I had walked away from, and as I walked back to my apartment, I could feel a God-shaped hole calling me home. It is not only alright that we sometimes feel that there is no purpose (that we are floating around disconnected from the life around us), sometimes it is essential. There is a connection that binds us to something greater than anything this life has to offer, and sometimes it takes a hard Sunday morning coming down to hear the static that lets us know there is someone on the other side of the line holding the phone.
Three of my sons will be speaking in church today. The house is full:. grandma and grandpa, aunts and uncles. Marci has made a great dinner, which she started working on last night. I chipped in, cleaned what I could, still having to monitor how much I do, due to an infection.
I woke up early, showered, and then played a video of a talk by President Deiter F. Uchtdorf, "Receiving a Testimony of Light and Truth." I have a lesson to teach, but I think I will simply play the video and then let the spirit guide the discussion. Sometimes that is best--to spend our time in reflection, openness, rather than constructing our message. Prepare myself mentally, spiritually, but let the content of my lesson unfold according to God's will, not my own, based on the needs of those in attendance. It's like writing a poem--let the energy of the moment unfold line upon line, or in this case, comment upon comment from the energy of the class.
Besides, there is no way I could mirror Uchtdorf's thoughts adequately.
While reading it, a song by Chris Kristofferson, "Sunday Morning Coming Down," came to mind. Not too long ago I was in a priesthood meeting where the teacher said something to the effect that some people are just not as spiritually-wired as others. It hit me like a brick. Wrong.
If God exists and he has sent each of us here with a pathway home, then everyone has within them an instinctive yearning for truth and light.
Europe speaks of a God-shaped hole, a yearning for simplicity, reassurance and light. The hole exists because a connection has been severed, but the shadow of it, continues to call home.
It is impossible to know what will trigger the desire to dial back into Heavenly Father. It could be something as simple as Sunday morning coming down.
For me it was a beautiful Thanksgiving day spent with a warm family in El Paso. They are not members, but being there made me realize what I had walked away from, and as I walked back to my apartment, I could feel a God-shaped hole calling me home. It is not only alright that we sometimes feel that there is no purpose (that we are floating around disconnected from the life around us), sometimes it is essential. There is a connection that binds us to something greater than anything this life has to offer, and sometimes it takes a hard Sunday morning coming down to hear the static that lets us know there is someone on the other side of the line holding the phone.
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