The Wind Will Blow

The Wind Will Blow

(Written 11/2008)

All this way the wind once blew -
Through snow cloaked trees and dusky blue,
O'er heathered fields, past shady glen,
To mountain cave from humid fen,
In sea-storm gale and lover's breath -
But then to die at kiss of death
That stilled the free-flown life of youth
And perished in that mortal truth.


Yet hope there is of breath once more
If one could find that open door
'Twixt death and life, that promised way,
To call forth light to sacred day -


E'en so it stands, the way is clear -
The price was high, the cost so dear.
Now portal'd death that reaches still
Shall hold no more its empty kill.
For time will come when time will cease,
When all held breaths will know release,
And all this way the wind will blow,
And eyes will see, and hearts will know
From Whom this gift and whence it came
Confessing e'er His holy name. 

What is Misery?

She said I must be miserable.
I said I'm not a miserable kind of person.
She said maybe not always, but it can't be helped with such difficulties in my life.
I told her misery is a choice I chose not to make.
I think she did not hear me.

Some people think I should not be effected by my difficulties. That being effected means choosing misery.
I disagree.
Misery is having no hope of hope.
Misery is a house of lies because truth is misunderstood and downright ignored.
Misery is being convinced our existence is a shameful audacity and therefore punished for it.
Misery is the terror that lies in unbecoming.
Misery was the home that is no home. The home where misery is.

But misery did not last.

Because God is greater than misery.

He taught me He did not hate me like they did.
He taught me life is not constricted to the falseness that was home.
He taught me to respect myself even if the would not.
He taught me to imagine safety.
He taught me to imagine life and beauty and hope.
He taught me to recognize myself.
He taught me to enjoy and recognize value in my uniqueness.
He taught me to expect good things to come.

My body does not work as most do,
My life is not like the one I first imagined.
Sometimes the weariness brings forth tears of exhaustion and discouragement.
They pass.
I rest.
I still hope because I have been taught to by my Father.
This life of illness is hard, but it is not the hardest thing I have lived.

That life left scars that ache and disturb in stormy circumstances.
That is part of life.
It also complicates my life in ways confusing to many I have met.
But while it is a recurring reminder of horror and misery that was, it is also a reminder that the wounds are healing.

So I do not understand when people assume my life must be misery.
I did not choose that home.
I did choose to turn away, towards the loving, healing, comforting, patient embrace of God.
I chose hope.

Misery is not a failing body, a failing relationship, a failing career.
Dreams and hopes are not limited to mortality.
Misery is blinders that block the brightness of life, of joy, of pain endured and overcome, of growth, of love, of hope.
If you will let Him, God can take those blinders away.

(written 3/8/15)

Help Will Come

D & C 68: 6

Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you; and ye shall bear record of me, even Jesus  Christ, that I am the Son of the living God, that I was, that I am, and that I am to come.

Help Will Come

2/18/07

No matter how alone you feel

Or, in truth, you may well be

Or how you cry out in your soul

For one to trust continually.

No matter how you search and look

And still there is no-one

Have faith, be still, do not lose hope

For always, help will come.

The source, each different, yet the same

The Lord works through the ones who will

Each help made equal to each need

Shows us the Lord is faithful still.

He sends one soul to listen well

Another to suggest

And when there's no-one to give hope

By His help we'll be blessed.

So though heart, faith and hope are tired

And still you have no-one

Have faith, be still, do not give up

And hope, for help will come.

Coming from the family problems that so dominated my life, I do not and have not had the family support that I watch so many others regularly fall back on. All the same, there has always been the help needed when something was beyond my own capabilities. Sometimes I could talk to one friend or another, sometimes I happened across a random reference that helped me understand, sometimes a random stranger appeared more than willing to help, sometimes  my dreams would give me perspective, sometimes it was simply a blessing of peace. But I was never left alone by Heavenly Father. And I promise that so long as you want Him there, He will never leave you alone either. He does not always give the answer we want as quickly as we want, but He will always be there to give us the help we need.

Delusion or the Devil

(I state in my bio that I tend to challenge assumptions. Fair warning that this will likely challenge many.)

Wow. I never imagined I'd actually post about this. My heart's racing just thinking about it.
Long but necessary set-up required to set the stage. Long in general, but I've found myself wanting to refer others in troubling circumstances to this story so that perhaps they might find insight and encouragement. And so I share one of the two most tightly held stories of my life.

I've indicated before that I came from a problematic home. A mother from an abusive home (guessing from breadcrumbs of random details gleaned since she hated the topic of before) who was therefore not perceptive of her own fiance-then-husband's abusive nature. Her dedication to her belief that marriages entered into should not be dissolved and then her own terrible cascade of illnesses that limited her resources to self-sufficiency. But none of this was understood while I lived at home, before she died.

What was understood was that he somehow had power to make me forget. Who I was, my motivations, my thoughts. I was a horrible nothing that had inflicted myself upon him. And since twisted people will twist whatever ideology at their command, it was religion and scripture used against me.

I always thought it dumb when people would say, during church, that if it weren't for the gospel they wouldn't be where they were. Duh? If you didn't believe in God, why would you be at church? Kind of a no-brainer. But then one day I paused to think about it. I realized that if I hadn't had a bolstering by the concept that 'God loves His children' and that it's not right to suicide, his compulsion, manipulation, and only ever demeaning of me would have resulted in me suiciding to try to atone for the sin of existing. Since nothing I did was ever enough. Never good enough. Never.

But these were all things beyond my comprehension in high school. Mom was sick. Everything would go out of kilter for months until she, the doctors, we finally got a handle on the new circumstances and things would even keel for a few weeks. Until a new symptom appeared and threw everything back out of balance. This started my Sophomore year in high school. That was also the year he was out of a job. It was a pattern that continued for six years until she died (though he did finally get a job after that first year).

I am rather unique in nature. I understood this as early as 7th grade. I did not expect life to go as it did for others or for me to have a traditional form of the teenage years. I think this, combined with a brutal and overwhelming home situation, meant that I did not interact with kids my age in a 'normal' fashion. Also, that I did not always recognize the disparities. I was usually preoccupied with my rather consuming own little world.

The teens I had contact with in high school did notice. For all I knew, I had friends. There was very little interaction outside of school, choir, and the play, but as all my time away from school was occupied by home or work, I did not not think anything of it. I was, however, troubled my senior year and the year after with dismissals from those I had thought of as friends because, "You just don't want to be happy." And, "You just bring everyone down."

I went on a handful of dates in high school and to one dance - girl's choice. The kid had such charisma and an energy that somehow made it feel as though I could actually breathe again. I confess a substantial crush. I also re-confess to a general awkwardness due to my opposite spectrum of life-experience. It didn't help that the parental units tried to make the dance their vicarious own and easily doubled whatever awkwardness of mine. The kid got skittish. Then apologized months later when he 'realized he hadn't been a good friend and he promised to be a better one.' He graduated. I had a year left. Whatever.

University. Except for summer choir, there was very little crossing of paths since our subjects differed. A couple months before my mom's death, I saw him in the parking lot as I headed in. I felt a sorrow that people who knew each other become strangers and accepted that he was to be added to the list. He stopped me to talk as I passed. Invited him to a show I was in the next month (he didn't come).

Mom died. My prior reality shattered. My identity shattered (mom's caregiver). For two years I'd been overwhelmed with her care, my schooling, my work, siblings' care, house and chores and shopping, insane expectations (like the demand to paint the house professional grade for moving purposes without even the knowledge that painting tape to enable straight lines existed)... I'd also begun realizing that the (Heavenly) Father I was coming to know in the scriptures was opposite in nature to the he I will only call him.

The shock lasted for months. I'd had no one to talk to for years. But the kid had renewed the lease on the friendship. I clung to it as the lifeline I so desperately needed. For all of my hating to write, I started writing him a random one-paper letter once a week and leaving it in his President's cubbyhole since I knew he was far too busy to have time to talk to nobody me. They weren't anything ground shaking. Maybe a little about mom, but mostly just an outlet for all things random (a talent of mine) which run through my head. All I needed was to know that someone was hearing me. I didn't have anyone else.

In my gratefulness, I wished I could somehow return the favor which helped me survive. But I was no one. The crush matured. I couldn't imagine he'd look my way that way. He had a girlfriend, then another. I don't, I won't, compete. I clung to the best friendship I had available, unable to be aware of how empty it was.

Enter "Delusion or the Devil"

Being religious, I will address that element/angle first. If you are not, continue reading anyway. The delusion thread explanation will unfold and follow at the end.

Still wishing I could return the gift I so valued, I prayed to God that He would show me how. I already saw myself as unequal. How could I make any difference to him? How could I make a difference like he did?

Sometimes God uses our asking for one thing to teach and guide us in another. In my mind I saw two paths. To the left was my future symbolized by a man of no specific nature. To the right I saw it represented in the kid I so respected. I knew they represented choices. Would I take the easy - whatever happens to come my way path? Or would I choose the harder one that would lead me to that state higher, more capable, than where I happened to stand?

I am stubborn. Both parentals blamed it on the other. I think I came with a dose of my own, as well. I don't back away from hard. I may be terrified inside, but that just makes me more determined  to overcome. I was going to settle for the 'whatever comes' path.

Having admitted my level of feeling for the kid, I spent weeks pondering this, wondering if it could possible mean that I had a chance with him. God did not tell me no. I concluded that I would continue as though that conclusion were assumed. (It was, after all, the only way that the answer could truly be known.)

I made the fatal mistake, however, of relating this to the him. I thought I had to as he demanded knowledge of everything I did, thought, felt, with full editing rights. I was terrified to tell him, but I did not comprehend I had a right to privacy and I don't back down just because something could go wrong. His assessment? It is delusion or the devil.

As the year came and went and I moved away, this was a constant friction between myself, the him, and the step-her. I cannot say I fully believed my hopes would happen, but I did not dare to let them go for I found they provided me, for the first time in my life, with something more powerful than the him. I was starting to keep my identity and will as my own where he demanded submission. I consciously used the hopes, stated as fact (for his disdain would make him give up on arguing whereas he would have battered had I confessed any amount of being unsure), to shield me when a certain decision was expected that my real reason would have been dismissed. This reinforced his idea but it was the safer course for me.

Off and on contact with the kid, not a lot but more than I was used to. I'd finally confessed my feelings months before, but by way of getting it out there rather than expecting any response. He knew that. I did seek him out as I passed his work twice as I still valued the inter-personal contact. And with the new territory of living away from home, the stability the letters provided appeared again possible when his email was listed in a mutual friend's mass mailing. I still have the copies. They are of the same nature as the first with additional reports of my efforts in my church music to encourage others to attend the area's workshop later that summer. It was my calling in church. It also happened to be organized by his mother.

I went to the special choir rehearsals prior. The first had me nervous as I hadn't seen him for months. Nothing so no biggie. The next week I had a premonition that there would be trouble. I couldn't conceive of why and I don't run and hide so I went anyway. I was a little late so I ended on the front row. He came in later, saw me and walked straight back out, conversed with his mother, and left. Whatever. I was there to sing.

At the end of rehearsal I noticed that only one woman was putting all the hymnals back from the stand. This seemed a shame since we'd all brought one up so I decided to stay and help. The mother was talking to some lady. Aware of her, but nothing to do with me. Most of the books are returned but there is one slot left by where the mother stands. I could try to find another empty slot. The premonition stirs again. "This is stupid," I thought. I'm just putting a hymnal away. So I did and I left.

I go home. Ten minutes later I get a call from the him. The mother had called to complain that I had tried to talk to her. This was way too easy for him to manipulate. He told her his less than accurate version of my story which merged into her own mis-assessment of my actions. Together they cooked up the notion that if I dared to attend the workshop I'd be slapped with a restraining order.

A couple days later the he and the step-her finally deigned to visit my humble abode in the guise of loving parental concern. I was then notified that he and step-her had talked on the phone with her psychiatric friends and was diagnosed third-person with classic delusion and suicidal tendencies, and it might be a good idea to institutionalize me. This he graciously offered to pay for.

Though shaken and highly upset by the turn of events (the kid couldn't talk to me about the problem he had to go run to mummy and threaten the police?!) I collected myself to tell the him and step-her that I would somehow survive just fine left to myself. He didn't like this answer. He then said that as the father-parental he held the priesthood authority over me and it was therefore to admit that I had sinned and submit. In a rare capacity to speak counter to his demands I told him that if that's how he thought to 'use the priesthood' then he'd lost any authority he claimed to have. They left shortly thereafter...

Lives diverged and I can't say I was sad to not see the kid. I still had (and present tense - have) years of recovery from the trauma and abuses of home. I didn't understand what the path that I thought meant him was if it was not him so I still didn't dare let go of the possibility, though I can't say it brought me the same level of comfort it did when first conceived.

I moved hundreds of miles away and somehow managed to land in the same little college town as him. I hadn't known he'd moved away. I was terrified when I realized he was there and avoided him like the plague. I mourned what when I saw he'd married simply because I'd been so invested in the idea that life could be better, that it could be different from what I'd been raised with.

It took years further to realize that that was what the path symbolized - that hope - not the kid. The kid was just the closest I could comprehend to that new abstract possibility. A possibility so foreign that the abstract concept would have been insufficient to hold onto and enable the separating of my will from the his'.

I do believe in God. I believe He guided my imaginings to enable a critical choice for my future well being. I believe He knew I would not understand it as He meant it but that my not understanding would in fact provide the strength of power to follow it through. I believe He helped me through years of confusion an turmoil and healing of trauma. And when that healing had progressed far enough, He helped me understand what He'd meant. I believe that my doing the best I understood was perfectly acceptable to Him and I have no need to feel ashamed at how events played out.

If you do not believe in God, then consider that delusion is not always a bad thing. Consider that our minds can provide protections to enable us onward and upward out of dangerous circumstances. And consider the source of the circumstances that led me to need such a delusion to be able to escape.

You say, Sir, you hate Christmas

You say, Sir, you hate Christmas

List grievances not few

But I wonder if you have thought

These grievances quite through.

There's jangles and there's spangles

Mass frenzy for new toys

But stop to hear the quiet

Of the stable 'midst the noise.

His birth's been near forgotten

Its purpose been replaced

The promise in the life He led

In pop culture now debased.

But that promise holds forever strong

Regardless of the noise

Delight in that, ignore the rest,

Return to Christ-mas joys.

So, please, Sir, don't hate Christmas

But spread the truth drawn here

For Christmas is God's gift, through birth,

To draw His children near.

<written 6/24/2012>

De-stressing and Refreshing the Hope Banks

Between health difficulties and the stress of trying to imagine how to actually manage the upcoming move when I'm doing good to concentrate enough to make a to-do list, let alone remember to work on it, I've been battling discouragement off and on over the past month. General Conference last weekend did much to lift my spirits, but facing a doctor that has apparently never thought to look for more information about my particular health problems kind of put another damper on them. Since my health problems are rather sensitive to stress, when it builds up to these levels, I have to focus on getting them to drop quickly or I'll be facing worse 'crashes' as time goes on. (It has to do with the system that manages autonomic functioning in the body, including the adrenal glands - the more stress, the more likely it'll trigger another function to falter.) It is, therefore, not surprising that upon waking this morning, my attention has been on how to refocus and refresh the 'hope' banks.

While I may not be able to do all that I used to do before the H1N1 vaccine skewed my body's regulator, even accomplishing a few small things is enough to help dispel the hated 'trapped/stuck' feeling. Remembering that my life is my own and I can act and make choices and have a say in where and how it goes is crucial to a sense of well-being. The hardest times of the past were when there was no sense of freedom, no autonomy from the demands of others and no sustaining connections to other humans who actually cared and wanted to be involved in my life because of me rather than because of how it would reflect upon themselves. Being able to say, 'No, I don't like that; I don't want that,' or, 'Yes! I am doing this even if it seems weird to someone else,' allows a person to retain and remember their identity and individuality. It is quite good for the health. Knowing people who sincerely care and love you and who are willing to talk even if it's just for random talking has also proven very helpful in lifting my spirits.

If you've paid any attention to my previous blog-posts, you know that stories are my passion! If I've had a PTSD trigger (yes, I'm admitting it here as one of my trials in life - read the Moriarty post and you'll have a good insight on how some of that came about...) talking about the story(ies) I am or just have consumed is the quickest distraction to help me out of the bad place. Right now, I'm debating between a Danny Kaye movie (laughter is the best medicine, after all) and watching The Avengers again. (It's been a month or so since last time...)

Meditation may or may not prove helpful for me. If the stress is too high, I'll just get caught in a down-spiral. Boyd K. Packer said that sometimes we need to pray and then get up and go about our lives - that extended time 'on our knees', as it were, won't always grant us the answers we are asking for. Rather, pray in faith and go forth with faith and the answer will come in God's own time and God's own way. So long as we are willing to accept the answer that comes, we will recognize that He does answer. This ties in with a pattern I noticed in the scriptures some years back.

Throughout the Book of Mormon and Doctrine and Covenants, I kept noticing reference to 'prayers of faith'. Truly, praying, asking for help from anyone, really, requires a confidence that help is even available. But then I also began noticing the phrase 'faith in their prayers'. It shows up most distinctly in D&C 10: 47-52 where the Lord speaks of the prayers of those who wrote the Book of Mormon and their confidence that their efforts would have value for the future generations. There was nothing to indicate the records would even survive after they died, yet they acted in faith, kept the records, and prayed in faith, believing their prayers meant something to God. In D&C 10, He shows us that even that secondary faith has value.

I suppose that could translate into my efforts to finish my education after I got sick. Granted, I've been of the idea that the doctors will someday get a clue and I'll be able to function at least as well as I did before getting sick (there are plenty of clues I've had the dysautonomia since being a child but that my body was able to mostly compensate in functioning). As time has passed, however, one could wonder why it was so important for me to fight the sickness and finish my last semester at the university if I'm often left in such a low level of functioning that it doesn't appear to hold much economic value. Is not paying and striving for an education an 'act of faith'? Now, I'm the stubborn type who is trying to find ways to move on even when it's so *growling* difficult to move, so I look at the education as a victory in itself. But you see how the apparent lack of point, value, effect of the endeavor could be a frustration? I readily admit that another recent topic on my mind is sorting itself out in these terms as I type. (I don't actually share everything in my blog - deal with it. ;) )

Getting a fresh perspective, or as we Mormons like to say, 'an eternal perspective', on things often helps whatever feelings of lack or failure or disappointment fade to the background. Often, things take far longer to completely resolve, but when they aren't overwhelming out attention, we are far better able to handle life as it comes. Since I spent so many years feeling trapped, it is logical that I respond the quickest to the things that helped me escape those situations - action and stories. I am a person of faith and it has served me just as well, so I must remember to bring my perspective into balance with the eternal perspective by using the patterns taught by the scriptures and by church leaders. Another might find their relief in running. Or painting. Or yoga. Or cooking. Or working on a car. Or journaling. The point is simply that if we pay attention to our personal patterns of stress and relief, we can actively pursue restored balance. And I much prefer living with a hopeful outlook on life. :)

Biggest Fears

The years just before and after my mom died were the most stressful and difficult in my life. It often got to the point where I would stay out talking after stake institute classes (one-night-a-week church study classes for college-age students - for any non-Mormon readers) for hours with anyone who would stay with me because it was the closest I could get to actually relaxing. One guy in the single's group would stay out talking with me the longest each week. I confess that I was oblivious, due to already stated stress levels, to any deeper intentions on his end. I was just grateful for an excuse not to go home where the tension needed something much more heavy-duty than a mere knife...

One night, we got talking about facing the hard things in life and he said that he believes we will all ultimately have to face our biggest fears. He supported it by listing a couple big ones he'd already lived through. He then said that having done so, he did not find many things worth fearing anymore. While there were a number of things about this guy that I could not agree with, I have often reflected on this insight of his and find it valid in my own life.

In seminary (similar week-day classes for high-school age students) we had a get-to-know you activity at the beginning of one semester. As part of it, we were to give our greatest fear. It wasn't long for me to land on what was mine and so I waited patiently, listening as the question was answered around the room. There were plenty of spiders for girls (and even a guy or two). I think someone said they were afraid of a family member dying. Dying, themselves. Public speaking. Common things that aren't surprising. When it came to be my turn, I stood and said simply, "My greatest fear is that no-one will care about me." One of my classmates had a look of horror on his face at the thought of having no-one care about him. I guess people with good family relations and friends don't think of such things.

I think of the years after that where I would go to my classes, work, church, and manage everything for home and there are periods of time, sometimes months on end, where that 'fear' was reality. I'm sure some of you are thinking, 'Of course people cared about you. You probably just didn't realize it.' I would ask you if there is no evidence of the caring, such that the person is left looking at the world and their burdens alone, how does that 'caring' = caring? Much like the idea that 'faith without works is dead', a 'feeling' stated but not acted upon makes it an empty word. Does a player (male or female) who tells everyone they date 'I love you' actually love those they say it to? Or is it just a tool of manipulation with no intrinsic value? Or if it still has a seed of value, is that seed given enough nourishment to grow to anything sustainable?

I have faced finding my mother dead. I faced financial difficulties. I have faced some pretty difficult health problems. I have faced betrayal, rejection, and scorn. And I have faced the devastating effects that decades of abuse leaves behind. I considered the parking-lot friend's words valid when he spoke them, but I have come to recognize their truth through continuing experience.

Why can I say that? I can because each time a person faces something so much bigger than them and refuses to be defeated they come to realize they were not so small to begin with. Because even when something is more than you can handle yourself, there are the few you can go to for a breather of help. You just have to be willing to look, to ask. I suppose my church membership may be seen as an advantage that others do not have, but I will tell you now - if you need help, look up the local bishop and give him a call. You don't have to be a member, you don't have to listen to missionary discussions. We are here to help anyone in need.

And in those instances where the people around you really just can't understand, consider that God does and that He's there to help you. For any atheist readers, consider that we are all part of the human race and as members in the same race, the same respect we can see applying to others we can apply to ourselves. We are worth fighting through the hard times even if it seems no one else thinks so. Think on how many have suffered such great things and pulled out the brighter and the stronger for it! Every one of us can do the same.

I have faced a lot. Some I had thought to fear and some that had not occurred to me to fear before they appeared. Ultimately, I have found that fear is not a very helpful emotion. It is a human emotion, though, and I tend to be most vulnerable to it when I am particularly stressed or tired. Despite the way my dad viewed them, emotions are not bad or the evidence of a weak person. Having survived so many things already, I have come to realize that each 'crises'  is really just the next puzzle, adventure, dilemma, challenge to overcome. It may not be easy, and it may stretch me farther than I imagined possible, but we humans are resilient creatures. And I know I can do it as I have already done so before. So really, what is there to fear?

Pray for Peace, People Everywhere!

So today is a day of prayer and even fasting (by those who are medically able) as called by the new Pope Francis. I'll readily admit my understanding of Catholicism is limited. (The most my mom told me about her time in Catholic school was that they served cinnamon and sugar on the rice at lunch time - a tradition that she carried through for us...) I know small bits from some history classes and historical fictions I have read and my strongest visual images of the Vatican come from The Scarlet and The Black and Angels and Demons. (So disappointed in the end! Especially after the build-up right before!)

That really is beside the point, however, when it comes to uniting hearts in prayer around the world in a call for peace. While most religious people feel their religion has the ultimate truth, one of the best lessons I had in 10th grade World Civ was that if God is God of all and a loving God of all, then whether the child is of the 'right' religion or not, can we really think He'd only hear the sincere prayers of said 'right' religion? (Yes, it was at school, but I'm not telling you the teacher's name so you can't sue him - it was a good lesson worth teaching.)

I have always been that person who gets excited for Christmas by the time summer has hit its swing. You know the one - you all groan as soon as you hear someone's already listening to Christmas music and state quite strongly that it shouldn't be brought out until AFTER Thanksgiving, and preferably not even until December 1st. I learned at a young age that I cannot safely speak for others in a large range of topics as I tend to come from the flip side of the coin, so I won't try to here. I will say that the reason I have such a strong love for Christmas was that where my home was one of anxiety and fear and stress, the Christmas season was the constant counter to those feelings. When the world in general opens their hearts to goodness, kindness, charity, love, and peace, God is able to pour out His spirit in greater abundance and it is felt in the true Christmas spirit. Since it came from the outside, it was strong enough to counter, for those couple of months, the harder things of home.

I've long wished for those feelings of peace and hope and love and light to be there all year round and have even been confused at why that doesn't happen. I came to realize that people tend to be more preoccupied with their own lives during the rest of the year which is why it tends to only show up on the big occasions when people are united. There is great power in unity and that unity should be able to transcend the separating boundaries of different denominations.

I'm remembering the months after 9/11 when we were all still in so much shock and wondering if it would mean war, if it should mean war. I remember waiting to see what the position of the church would be and the sense of peace when President Hinckley said that while we do not recommend war, we will accept the country's call to fight if it decides to as our due diligence to the nation which is our home. Looking back, I think most of us have a sense that it might well have been better if some of the courses taken had been left alone, and I think this is why so many are uncomfortable with the thought of going into Syria with guns blazing. At the same time, there is also something of a WWII/Holocaust echo and the wondering of when it is right to step in to protect those who are being hurt. It is a sticky situation and I do not know the answer.

But I can pray for peace. I can pray that God's/Allah's/Jehovah/s spirit is with all involved insofar as they will allow it to be so that peace can be restored to that battered land. I can pray that there will be enough donations from around the world to help those who have lost everything in the conflict. I can pray that we will be more aware of our neighbors and better able to give assistance even before it comes to crisis. (This civil war has been going on for over a year-and-a-half, yet when I first mentioned it to a friend in spring of last year, she had no awareness of it.) I can pray that we can find strength and stability in our own lives and spheres such that we will be in a position to offer needed assistance. And I can pray that we will let the commercialism and politics of life be a simple side-note to the things that really matter, no matter what the time of year: Charity, patience, peace, kindness, hope, faith, healing, tolerance from all parties, unity.

Finally, I conclude with a paragraph about the writers of the Christmas song, "Do You Hear What I Hear?", from wikipedia (I tried to go to the original source, but the LATimes wanted me to pay for an account to view the archives...)

Regney was inspired to write the lyrics "Said the night wind to the little lamb, 'Do you see what I see?' " and "Pray for peace, people everywhere," after watching babies being pushed in strollers on the sidewalks of New York City.^[1] Shayne stated in an interview years later that neither could personally perform the entire song at the time they wrote it because of the emotions surrounding the Cuban Missile Crisis.^[1] "Our little song broke us up. You must realize there was a threat of nuclear war at the time."^[1]

 And the lyrics to the song:

Said the night wind to the little lamb,
Do you see what I see?
Way up in the sky, little lamb,
Do you see what I see?
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite,
With a tail as big as a kite.

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy,
Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing through the night, shepherd boy,
Do you hear what I hear?
A song, a song, high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea,
With a voice as big as the sea. 

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king
Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know?
A child, a child, shivers in the cold
Let us bring him silver and gold
Let us bring him silver and gold. 

Said the king to the people everywhere,
Listen to what I say
Pray for peace, people everywhere,
Listen to what I say
A child, a child, sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light.

Pharaoh's Heart

The Pharaoh's heart was hardened -

But not by God back when

His servant, Moses came and prayed

The Hebrews be free men

To go and worship God above
Short three days journey hence -
The Pharaoh chose the tyrant's role
Despite the evidence

That God Above was speaking

And fair was the request

But wicked man will not allow

His enemy be blessed.

For thus fault is admitted:
Great fault had Egypt done
When Pharaoh's father ordered death
To each Hebrew newborn son.

And this to cover further ill

As oppressors always fear

The beaten ones might just lash back

If freedom's call they hear.

So he thought to leave them weakened,
Bloodied, docile, broken
Hoping he could make it so
Despite all God had spoken

Pharaoh did not understand

That God cannot be thwarted

So even as he sought control

His strength had been aborted.

Plea by plea ignored, revenged
Then answered in return
By God above who'll not allow
His children be left to spurn

By those who will not heed His voice

But kick against the pricks

Until even Pharaoh's son

And all firstborn fell sick.

Finally Pharaoh chose to think
The Hebrew price too steep
And paid to see them go away
Their neighbors' gems to keep.

Yet even then he saw the work

Of slaves now freed forsaken

And burned inside with anger

At the slight to the Egyptian.

Calling forth his mighty men
They raced to head the hated
All down to the water's edge
Where choice became the fated.

Moses' staff struck down 'mid cries

The water was  held off

The Hebrews fled, Pharaoh's men drowned -

The ultimate price for scoff.

Against the mighty God above
A hardened heart is given choice
To heed or scorn, to hate or hear
The chance held in His voice.

But should one take the Pharaoh's path

Beware what lies ahead

Once hardened heart is set in stone,

Eternal hope's found dead.

Do not leave God's only course
To have you home once more
Be found in soft'ning fires of trial
'Til you hear Him at the door.

Rather let your heart be soft

Be quick to hear His call

You'll find He's there to raise you up

Should Pharaoh seek your fall.

(Started March '12, finally completed today.)

'Fail' With Glory

There was a long time in my earlier years when I was so overloaded with responsibilities, demands, and expectations that I could hardly keep my head above water, so to speak. I had a constant gnawing worry that I wouldn't be able to juggle everything and knew there would be no mercy if anything slipped up. Or so I thought. At home, at school, and at work, this was true. I suppose it should not be a surprise that church provided the one source of breathing space.

There was one sacrament meeting where the speaker related a simple parable that began a slow process of understanding. In the story, a Master instructs a servant to push a giant rock as his task while the Master goes away on other business. The rock is much larger than the servant but the servant loves his Master and wishes to do all that is asked of him. But the rock won't budge. The servant works and strains and tries everything he can to move the rock and becomes more and more distressed at the thought of the Master returning with the rock still in place. Ultimately, he does return, and the servant is devastated to report his failure. Then the Master asks him a question. "Did I ask you to move the rock? No. I only asked you to push it, to give all the strength you could in doing so. I did not expect the rock to be moved. My purpose, rather, was that you gain strength for another task I have for you. Now you are prepared for that one."

This comes to mind now from a few verses I came across in my scripture reading this morning. In Isaiah 49:1-4, Isaiah laments that all his efforts have meant nothing. No one has really listened or cared about the warnings he's been instructed to give. He's tried so hard to help the people he loves, the people the Lord loves, to help them see that their actions were going to bring hard things upon them. But if no one listens, what good did any of it do?

There are two places that come to mind in the Book of Mormon that show relative parallels with Isaiah's concerns regarding the responsibility of leaders. In Mosiah, King Benjamin is reporting at the end of his reign on his efforts to lead the people righteously, well. In chapter 2, verses 15 and 27, it reads:
15 Yet, my brethren, I have not done these things that I might boast, neither do I tell these things that thereby I might accuse you; but I tell you these things that ye may know that I can answer a clear conscience before God this day.
27 Therefore, as I said unto you that I had served you, walking with a clear conscience before God, even so I at this time have caused that ye should assemble yourselves together, that I might be found blameless, and that your blood should not come upon me, when I shall stand to be judged of God of the things whereof he hath commanded me concerning you.

Likewise, some 300 or more years earlier, Jacob, brother of Nephi (first author in the Book of Mormon), has this to say regarding the responsibilities of his ministry. (Jacob 1:19)
19 And we did magnify our office unto the Lord, taking upon us the responsibility, answering the sins of the people upon our own heads if we did not teach them the word of God with all diligence; wherefore, by laboring with our might their blood might not come upon our garments; otherwise their blood would come upon our garments, and we would not be found spotless at the last day.

Clearly there is a responsibility and Isaiah's anguish over the lack of response to his efforts becomes more clear. He feels like he is failing even though he has tried so hard. It hasn't made a difference. Or so it seems. Perhaps reading the verses above through one more time will help make the actual issue more clear. In verse 15, King Benjamin has worked to the ultimate end that he can have a clear conscience when he finally stands before God. That clear conscience does not require that everyone under his authority lived perfectly and that his society had no troubles to work through or disturbances. It only required that he did the best he could, worked honestly, and gave it all that he could give. Isaiah did not manage to prevent the captivity of Israel. Their actions were ultimately their own choices and therefore their own responsibility. Isaiah's responsibility was rather to make sure they had access to the information necessary so that it really was THEIR choice. (A choice isn't really a choice unless you understand there are different options available.)

I think of Oliver Granger, mentioned in only 4 verses of the Doctrine and Covenants in section 117 (12-15). Elder Boyd K Packer gives a clearer understanding of the import of those verses in his talk "The Least of These" from the 2004 General Conference. If you read the links, you see that he was given a task and asked to do the best he could, but ultimately, it was one were he couldn't really succeed. And yet, in verse 13, it says:
and when he falls he shall rise again, for his sacrifice shall be more sacred unto me than his increase, saith the Lord.
His best efforts, relatively ineffective as they were, were really all that the Lord was asking for.

I have always loved the sounds of fanfare which will help explain to some extent why I've always liked the hymn "God Speed the Right". One line in the second verse always bothered me, though.

If we fail, we fail with glory.

How could failing anything be related to the idea of glory? Wouldn't the appropriate award for failure be shame? That's how I always felt when considering how hard I'd try and yet have little outward evidence to show for it. As I said before, understanding the concept that I'm writing about is one that has taken and still is taking me a long time. Literally just now as I pulled up the text to link it here and reading through it, I realized that the whole song is pretty much about this idea. We keep going. We give it our all. And if we 'fail' insomuch that we don't get the results we were aiming for, it is still of great worth to God because we did give it our all. And ultimately, we are succeeding in the thing that matters most to Him - strengthening and purifying ourselves so that we will be prepared to go home to Him at the last. Talk about 'glory'!

How I Know that God is Real

Our first article of faith reads:

We believe in God, the Eternal Father,

and in His Son, Jesus Christ,

and in the Holy Ghost.

A statement of belief for the church does not, however, constitute knowledge for the individual. As far back as I can remember, I've always known inside that God is real but only recently has it occurred to me to ponder how it is I know that. Last night, I realized a large part of the answer.

I know that God is real because He answers my prayers. There are, I'm sure, more examples than I am presently remembering, but I will share just a few of them with you.

*   *   *

Some seven years ago I had taken a break from college due to a combination of burn-out and a need for enough work to pay bills. In my searching for a job, I happened to apply to a staffing agency on the off chance they could find something. Eventually a potential option was made known to me but it was more by way of the company setting up with the agency for possible future needs than because they needed anything right then.

But I did. I hadn't managed to find a job yet and it seemed, by far, the best option I'd come across. I'm a pray-throughout-the-day kind of girl anyway, but with this carrot dangling just out of reach, I became more specific in my prayers. I couldn't pray in good conscience that someone be fired so there would be an opening for me. Instead, I began praying that someone would find or be offered a better job than what they had so that there would be room for me.

Three to four weeks later, I got a call that I was going to be taken on as a temp-to-hire. After I started working, I asked about the lady I'd replaced. They told me she'd gotten a job at a bank with hours that worked better for her. I only worked there for five weeks (I later ended in a job I knew I needed to be in) but it was in that place where I became aware of having any actual skill in writing.

*   *   *

My second example happened about a year later on the 4th of July. One of the effects of an abusive home has been in trying to correct many seriously flawed thinking patterns I was raised to. I'd gone to a parade that morning, then went back home and fell asleep. I woke up caught in something I call a memory loop. This is not unusual even now. Something - a dream, a random reference, a surfacing memory, a stray thought - will trigger a cycle of thought and memory tied to the messed up past and it just loops over and over. It's not so easy to break out of.

That evening, I found myself in a loop remembering a seminary lesson about 'the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.' We'd been given a little, grey 'price-tag' and asked to fill in what we imagined our worth to be. All the feelings I now associate with PTSD triggers flooded through me that day in class. I wanted to put $10 down but knew the teacher wanted us to understand that we are all priceless. At the same time, I was terrified about what dad would say if I dared put that down and he saw it. In some way or other, he would make it clear that I had no right to think anyone should be expected to give anything for me. Rather as if Mahana's father demanded she pay Johnny Lingo to be her husband. Ultimately, I placed a smiley-face on the tag (though truly I just felt sick and scared) as a safe way to avoid attention about expectations I couldn't meet from either direction.

Such was the loop that afternoon and the heart-ache and tears. My prayer, that day, was wondering if I even had anyone who'd think I was worth the $10 I'd been too afraid to put down, and if it was at all possible that, if so, that someone would invite me to something that night so I wouldn't be alone while everyone else celebrated. Maybe half an hour later a friend called to invite me to a concert. When I hesitated, worried about the potential cost, she said they got last-minute discounted tickets and she was happy to pay my way as she valued my presence more than a silly ticket price. I'm not sure if I've ever told her the story that came before.

*   *   *

The final example was another year later. I'd left my home-town area in a need to get away and had been considering the issue of my personality. You see, I didn't actually know what it was. All my energy had always gone to surviving and trying to meet dad's ever-increasing demands while also trying to avoid triggering his anger and avoiding giving him extra things to use against me like hopes and wants. In many ways, I was a human trying to be an automaton in fear of being determined useless and therefore sent to be decommissioned.

Living a few hundred miles away and preparing to go back and finish my degree, I found myself safe enough to be able to wonder and want to know what I'd be like if the rigid, once-needed self-restriction disappeared. I began praying that I'd find myself in a place - a new job, or a show, or something - where I felt so safe that it wouldn't even occur to be guarded. Where I wouldn't get in my own way. That was the only way I could think of to get a clue to what my natural personality was.

Being a smaller University town, I was unable to find a job and was not brave enough to seek out the local theater options. Though I'd prayed the things above many times over about six months, I actually forgot about it. Then my return semester began and our ward had an influx of students.

I started noticing that something unnerving was happening at church and activities. Despite the same burden of fear and hurt from home, it seemed like something was stifling it at church. I'd laugh and joke and make almost silly comments to catch people off-guard. Compared to a life-time of super-seriousness, I felt almost an air-head for all the sudden playfulness (though my IQ was still apparent). I could tell it wasn't bad thing so I didn't fight it, but I didn't understand what was happening and it made me nervous. After a couple weeks, the Spirit reminded me of my previous prayers.

The sneak-peak really only lasted that first semester and as time went on, the weight of the divinely repressed burdens returned, but it gave me the destination to shoot for in overcoming those burdens. It taught me something I had never imagined - that I could have fun and like being me. As the years have passed, I've worked my way back and have even returned to my home town to finish it. For I knew that coming back would set me back a ton and if I could regain that ground in the worst place of my life then I could handle anywhere. And you know what? I have. And I will be quite happy to move on and leave it all behind.

*   *   *

In all three cases, events played out in ways I can only see as direct answers to prayers. They were not always immediate or answered the way I'd thought to ask, but they were answered in ways I could not have brought about on my own. The fact is: they were answered. And to have been answered, there has to be someone answering. And that is my evidence of how I know that God is real.

Writings from 2011 and today: To Forgive

I must confess a great amount of distress upon the completion of Mockingjay, the last book of Suzanne Collin's Hunger Games series. For a people to over-turn its nation because of the barbarity of their control tactics and then turn around and condemn the children of those who committed the crimes to the same horrors is revenge - pure and simple.

Some people believe similar suffering of guilty parties will relieve their own. They believe it is their right as victims. They often blame every wrong in their lives on the one who wronged them. Some become obsessed with it. It festers into an ultimate grudge leading to horrible actions.

I've often heard the comparison that 'holding a grudge is like taking poison and expecting the other person to die.' Clearly illogical and rather foolish. Remembering the hurts and all the dark circumstances can actually bring about good, depending on the purposes. A wound must be kept clean to prevent festering. But to keep the memories alive for the purposes of hate, of revenge, leads to becoming the very thing you condemn.

So... what? You just let it go? Pretend it never happened? Forgive?! It's funny, or rather, sad, how often that term, that idea, is found offensive to the wounded. That happens, I believe, because it is often mis-employed by both the well-meaning and by impatient, uninformed busybodies. (This second group, particularly, can become a great hamper on the healing process.)

The phrase 'forgive and forget' is so over-used that those who have not yet faced such deep harms have come to believe that forgiving is forgetting. They fail to understand that to actually forget would be unhealthy as that would require denying reality. And that could eventually lead to instability when the truth ultimately rears its head. Forgetting is also foolish. All things in life add to our experience - our knowledge of the world and of ourselves - and to deny that experience is to limit our ability to respond, to cope, and to make wise decisions.

So then we're stuck, right? We can't build our existence around the trauma without the risk of losing ourselves, and we can't live in denial or risk losing our grip on reality. Or is this where 'forgiveness' comes in? In a particular sense - yes.

Forgiveness is not pretending the offender never offended. That is focusing on the past. How? Because by spending your energy denying what was, you are ultimately feeding all your energy into what was. In the past. Forgiveness is about not letting the past continue to harm the future.

For me, this has always been easiest by understanding the position of the offender and by knowing that life is a process of learning. Since no-one is perfect, it follows that mistakes, misunderstandings, and various offenses will inevitably occur. And I don't hold myself on some pedestal expecting to be shielded from all such occurrences. Life happens. I'm undeniably part of life (my own, at least). I will, therefore, experience the 'ups and downs' of life like everyone else. By recognizing this, I often no longer even have to worry about forgiving as I no longer see it as an 'offense'.

But sometimes it's not so easy to find an excuse for the offenders. The information needed is just not available or else they have no valid excuse. Then what? That's usually when I start pleading with God because I just can't understand. This is particularly distressing to me as my whole life is building understandings of the world around me. It becomes the unanswered 'why' that distracts my attention and disrupts my peace.

This is where I, personally, have to employ forgiveness. To do so, I have to remind myself that God is Judge. My access to information is limited, as is my ability to understand all things. His is not. I may be unable to find the excuses I desire that normally allow me to put the effects of life in a context I understand. He doesn't have that problem.

It is around this point when I realize I've been leaving out one very important context: faith. God is the Judge. I don't have to worry about prosecuting. I don't have to be the defense attorney (my usual method). Even more, I don't even have to testify. I am free. Because Christ suffered all the Atonement allows us to forgive - to turn it all over to Him, and to move forward with our lives. And it lets us rebuild with His help.

Regardless of the state of the person I have to forgive, I am free. They can deal with God as they will. If they pose no danger, we can work on rebuilding our relationship. Remember, forgiveness and repentance do not automatically negate natural consequences: the person the drunk driver killed is still dead. However, sharing love with them can bring healing to both parties. At the same time, avoiding an unrepentant abuser is not only perfectly acceptable, it is wisdom, pure and simple.

But this brings us back to the hard part of forgiveness. How do we deal with it when we see that person still living in a threatening way? How do we forgive when the automatic response any thought of them brings is fear? How do we not keep getting mad that we have to deal with scars that no one should have to have? Scars that others who haven't been there themselves can't even comprehend.

Once again, the answer lies with God. Through Christs' Atonement, we have the proof that all things will be made right. In our own lives and our own futures. In those around us. And ultimately in the lives of those who may have put us in this position. We pray for them that they will make themselves right with God to receive of His mercy, but if not, we can know that try however they might wish to, they can't fool God. And God will make it right. And that means we don't have to. Which also means we won't get ourselves into trouble trying to and putting ourselves in the wrong as well.

Doctrine and Covenants 64:

 9 Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin.

 10 I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.

 11 And ye ought to say in your hearts—let God judge between me and thee, and reward thee according to thy deeds.

The Lord offers the forgiveness and healing of His Atonement to all who will repent and receive of it. So long as we do not stand in the way of others, we will find the peace and healing we need. And we will be free to move forward with hope of better things to come. All in all, I'd say forgiveness is a pretty darn good deal.

Q & Agency

So it happens that I am exploring the Star Trek conglomerate since it seems to be the primary source material for modern science fiction stories. I was quite surprised to discover a great delight in the Original series that I have not so far found in The Next Generation. Of course, it would naturally leave me with a bad first impression, despite the delightful Patrick Stewart. This is due to the baddie in the very first episode who later played a future Stargate SG-1 baddie (a rather despicable, slimy sort which, unfortunately for the actor, seems to be showing a pattern of type-casting).

The character of personal disgust seems to be named 'Q' and has just shown up again. And what to my wondering mind should appeal, but an insight on agency and this whole mortal deal. [Yeah... just as I don't care for writing, I also have an ironic dislike for poetry...] Anyway. Whoever this 'Q' is, he's clearly a being of power far greater than even the higher advancement of humans some 300 years hence. And he seems to think that all things should follow according to his will, his intentions. He also is free with kangaroo court judgment and generally allows his superior power to convince himself of his own general superiority. Rather 'might makes right' of him.

As a number of stories in our current era have explored, we fairly well recognize how bogus that claim is. Unfortunately, these stories exist precisely because there is a portion of people among us in this mortal realm who live as though it were true in hopes of forcing it to be true - that if they can become the powers that be, then by simply declaring it so: so it will be. It smells rather of megalomania and god-complex.

Which brings us round to the real God. So many wonder why, how He can allow bad things to happen, especially to good people, if He is a good god. If God were really just a Q, then the reactions of so many people to their 'unanswered' (simply because they have not yet heard it, not because there is no answer) question in turning away from such a being would make perfect sense. But God is not Q, and Q is a perfect example of why there is so much bad 'allowed' (allowed but not received with any level of pleasure).

In Romans 8, we read:

 14 For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God.

 15 For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.

 16 The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God:

 17 And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.

In Mormon understanding, we are literally a combination of body and spirit and while our bodies have mortal parents, our spirits are also literally children of God. He is not only God, but Heavenly Father. Before mortality, we lived in heaven with an immense family of spiritual siblings. But like Wendy, it was time for us to leave the nursery. Wendy, of course went on an adventure to Neverland where she came to realize that to truly live, she had to face the hard unexpecteds of life; that as happy as Peter seems, such an eternity was really an eternal sentence of stagnation.

God, of course, wants more for His children. He gathered everyone together for a ginormous family council and laid out the plan: we go to earth, learn to balance both spirit and body, learn, grow, and do so with a sort of amnesia allowing us to discover what we ultimately, in the deepest, truest way possible, want for ourselves. Unfortunately, as most of you will admit, the learning curve includes making mistakes. Also, media has made it quite clear the propensity teenagers have for partying and getting into trouble when the parents are out of town, or rebelling simply to prove they can.

Now God is a perfect and pure being and His very nature means that anything impure entering His presence would ultimately be burned to a crisp, so to speak. But then how could He send us away knowing full well we could never return for the impurities mortal life would inevitably collect? Enter the Savior. One who lived perfectly could show the way that would help us overcome the impurities because He went through the crucible Himself. If we would turn to Him and follow His way, we can return both to our bodies at the resurrection, and to our Eternal Family and even our mortal families. This, like all things in our mortal life, is our choice - it is the agency which is central to God's plan. For He would not force anyone to heaven, however much it pained Him to be separated from His child. If they wished it, the Peters could ultimately choose Neverland over life.

Lucifer, however, had a different idea. He liked the idea that he could claim power and actually could 'force' everyone to heaven. How he imagined he could pull that off is up for debate. Also, since that would mean that he had managed to do what God would not, then clearly he would be the true power, even greater than God Himself.

Let's see. Claiming superior power. Claiming subsequent authority to force everyone else to act according to his will? Sound familiar at all? To anyone? Oh, yeah - Q! Megalomaniac extraordinaire. Good for us, Lucifer's posturing did not actually place him higher than God. But he did betray his motives and being unwilling to submit to God's decision that Christ should come and we all should be allowed to choose our own ways for ourselves, Lucifer defiance literally drove him from God's presence (remember the whole 'no impure thing can survive' part?).

So Lucifer was cast down with his other die-hard followers and they are rather hateful to mortals cause we moved on and got bodies when they declined. Rather like the spiteful, self-centered, immature temper-tantrum of one who thinks that no one else ought to be able to move on when they've clearly just orchestrated the 'biggest show-stopper ever!' So they like to distract and tempt and generally complicate and muddy and make it as impossible for anyone else to move on as they can.

That, combined with the natural troubles of life - health, adolescence, old age, employment, natural disasters, and learning to deal with others who are also trying to figure things out means that life's kind of a mess. Add the creepy mortal versions of Q who still try to imagine the failed plan can succeed and life can actually be downright scary.

Until you take into account the God knew that it'd be a mess from the beginning. You don't introduce toddlers to a toy room and expect them to leave everything in perfect order. Remember that He provided a Savior who could, and would, teach and lead the way to any and all who would listen, who would help us with our bumps and bruises, who would cheer us on and surprise us with His attentive gifts, and who will happily present us to the Father once we've made our way to that point on the path. And then we'll remember why we chose to come. For as Star Trek repeatedly proclaims - we are a curious people. We seek to learn, to grow, to explore. Ultimately, we seek to become.

3 Nephi 28
 10 And for this cause ye shall have fulness of joy; and ye shall sit down in the kingdom of my Father; yea, your joy shall be full, even as the Father hath given me fulness of joy; and ye shall be even as I am, and I am even as the Father; and the Father and I are one;