Blessed

You know that feeling you get when you download a new playlist, set it on shuffle, and just start walking while the words dance through your thoughts touching on distant memories? You look up at the stars and feel the night air gently kiss your skin. That feeling you get when you are embraced by the realization that there really is so much more than this material world we are walking through and the moment of gratitude that sinks into every ounce of your soul because you know without a doubt that God's hand painted this life for you.  The good, the bad, happy and even the tragically sad. He knew you would need bright colors, highlighted with just the right edge of darkness. He knew that darkness would help you learn to shine even brighter. He never asked you to paint the colors alone. He is with you in every stroke. He asks nothing of you. He just wants to know if in the end... will you still choose Him like HE chose you.

I love that feeling. It's love, hope, joy, and heartache all rolled up in one. It's what I call being alive.

#Blessed.

"When We Turn Our Hearts to Our Ancestors, Something Changes Inside Us"

In our church, each member is assigned a "calling" or a job. We don't get paid financially for the work we do, but we are rewarded spiritually. My church calling is to help others learn about the how's and why's of doing family history/genealogy.  

Even though the Prophet Joseph Smith declared: "The greatest responsibility in this world that God has laid upon us is to seek after our dead" I personally didn't have an interest in genealogy until a few years ago. My thought was that it was something the "old folks" did. My grandmother, who we called "nana," was one of 13 children. Fortunately, one of her siblings took it upon themselves to research their genealogy and put together books for each family. I've read mine a few times, sitting comfortable with the knowledge that my work had been done. I honestly couldn't have been further from the truth. Just because I had a book with some names and dates did NOT mean my job was done. I was the only LDS member of the family that I knew of so temple work had not yet even been started on their behalf. Our church is not just interested in the dates our ancestors were born, married, deceased, and such. We are covenanted to do family history work so we can learn about our ancestors and grow closer to them. By learning who they are and the journey that they each traveled, we come to know ourselves and some of our own personal traits even better. For this reason, I don't refer to this work as genealogy, but as family history. We are all made up of dots and dashes. Dots are the dates that define our history and the dashes are the stories that defined US. 

Joseph Smith also taught that we must search out our ancestors and provide for them the saving ordinances of the gospel. "They without us should not be made perfect" (Hebrews 11:40) and "neither can we without our dead be made perfect" (D&C 128:15). Though I have read this many times, it wasn't until recently that I truly understood the meaning. 

When our 16 year old daughter, Amanda, passed away on July 11, 2012 we made the decision to donate her arm and leg bones, as well as other tissues. While on the phone with One Legacy, the organ donation group, I felt a slight test of my faith. I ran out to my husband and asked him if he was truly sure about our bodies being restored to their most perfect form. He said quite confidently that he was sure. I walked away thinking, "Man... if he is wrong she is going to be really mad at us for giving away her arm and leg bones!" It was a year before we could go and do Amanda's temple work. Even though we received updates from One Legacy letting us know how many lives Amanda had saved with the gift of organ donation, there was still a little spot in the back of my mind that wondered if I made the right choice. Finally, the day came to go through the temple to help Amanda complete her own work. As I stood in line to receive the initiatory blessings on her behalf, I could feel her spirit grow closer to me and stronger. There is a part of the blessing that says, "You will walk and not be weary, run and not be faint". It was at that moment when I saw a vision of Amanda dancing before me saying,"See mom, we did it. I'm fine". I felt like I was able to let out a long breath that I had been holding inside for a year. How grateful I was for that confirmation. Remembering this moment last night made the quote from Joseph Smith come alive. What he was saying is that " she... Amanda... without me (or someone here on earth to do the physical work her spirit could no)... would not be made perfect. And I... without having performed those ordinances for her would not have been given the relief my mind so desperately needed. 

Russell M. Nelson said, "When our hearts turn to our ancestors, something changes inside us." I have a personal testimony that this statement is true. For almost four years, I hadn't spoken to my mom and step-dad. There was always so much drama with my younger sister, that it was easier to just stay disconnected from them. Even though there was the genealogy book from my grandmothers sister, there were still some missing pieces to the puzzle and the only one who could help piece it together, was my mom. So I called my mom one day and asked her questions about her dad. The reason I couldn't find him in any papers was because the name I knew him by was not the name he went by legally. In fact, when he was 17 he wanted to sign up for the military to fight in WWWI, but since he wasn't old enough, he registered under his uncles name and used that for the rest of his life. Grandpa Bob, went by Claude Thomas Cooper. He was a driver for General Patton before he became a general, owned two gas stations, and was an iron worker on the golden state bridge. All of this information would have been lost without my asking my mother because she was the last of their family to pass it on. He was no longer just a dash on my family history chart. He had a story, a face, a name, and a dash. 

"Herein is the chain that binds the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the children to the fathers, which fulfills the mission of Elijah." My desire to learn more about my family brought me back to my mother. Our relationship is different, but better than it was. I learned that we both changed over the years and that's okay. 

One of the questions I deal with a lot in the Family History Class I teach is "What about the relatives we don't like?" The first time I heard this I had to ask the person to clarify. She said "he was a mean old man and I don't think God would approve of him." My answer is always the same. We are commanded to do the work, not to judge who should receive it. That person may choose to accept the gospel on the other side and become a changed person. They may not. Our job is simply to prepare their names, learn their stories, and help their temple work get done. God will handle the rest. 

Another comment I get is that the person isn't computer savvy. So what! We all have a role to play in family history work. If you aren't a computer wizard, be the one that gathers the stories. Have the young children who like to ask questions, ask those questions of their relatives and you write them down. For those of you that like to take pictures of everything, shoot away, but don't be stingy, load those pictures into Family Search or Ancestry.com. Youth and young adults, you are all such great textures! Why not put those fingers to work by asking a relative a daily question and adding it to a family journal?

I promise you that as you draw close to your family through learning about the paths they walked, your heart will grow full of love for them and bring you even closer to your father in heaven.