A Terrestrial Home for a Celestial Destination

Paris, France Temple Sealing Room.

 

Critics of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints often point to the temples as a wasteful extravagance, of neglecting the poor, or some other such assertion of frivolity.

In the New Testament we read a similar assertion played out a long time ago from one who was similarly minded, same thinking, same thing:

3 Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment.

4 Then saith one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, which should betray him,

5 Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?

6 This he said, not that he cared for the poor; but because he was a thief, and had the bag, and bare what was put therein.

7 Then said Jesus, Let her alone: against the day of my burying hath she kept this.

8 For the poor always ye have with you; but me ye have not always. (John 12)

It is not as if we are on the very verge of solving the issues with the poor but the money spent on temples is the one thing that is keeping there from being the elimination of issues. As Jesus said, the poor you always have with you, but me you have not with you always.  This was a special occasion, and so special dedication, effort and cost were devoted to his anointing.  So it is with temples.

The Church receives nothing and makes zero money off the temples.  Financially, the people gaining are the contractors and laborers who work to build it, the residents whose property values that most often go up with the temple construction, the taxes that are gained on a number of fronts (and someone out there will think themselves so smart as to go find some example somewhere where this is not the case as if the exception is the rule all the while missing the point).  The apostles and prophets don't reside there, and all members are invited to go there - indeed the whole world is invited to prepare themselves to go in.  Like the oil that was used to anoint the Lord, the temple construction is an act of holy devotion. 

If the temples are what they say they are - the House of the Lord - and our pathways back to him, then by very practice, they have to be built to the best quality they can be.  They are a terrestrial building, they have to conform to terrestrial law in a step towards the celestial.  They cannot be built of common materials to lower craftsmanship in a common mentality of a telestial abode and yet fulfill their celestial-purpose.  

Payson, Utah Temple Celestial Room

Now, we needn't make the mistake of thinking that extravagance sanctifies, or that ostentatiousness equals holiness - this is another fallacy, part of which we see in the example from the Book of Mormon:

5 And it came to pass that Riplakish did not do that which was right in the sight of the Lord, for he did have many wives and concubines, and did lay that upon men’s shoulders which was grievous to be borne; yea, he did tax them with heavy taxes; and with the taxes he did build many spacious buildings.

6 And he did erect him an exceedingly beautiful throne; and he did build many prisons, and whoso would not be subject unto taxes he did cast into prison; and whoso was not able to pay taxes he did cast into prison; and he did cause that they should labor continually for their support; and whoso refused to labor he did cause to be put to death.

7 Wherefore he did obtain all his fine work, yea, even his fine gold he did cause to be refined in prison; and all manner of fine workmanship he did cause to be wrought in prison. (Ether 10)

Riplakish built himself a very fine palace but he afflicted everyone with his building and adorning it, he wasn't interested in glorifying anyone but himself at everyone's else's expense.

The temples of the Lord, on the other hand are built with consecrated voluntarily sacrificed funds, and they have but one purpose: to allow people to draw nearer to the Lord's spirit, and to prepare to return home to their Heavenly Father. 

In ancient times the temples were the center of civilization, they were the center of life!  And indeed, they are!  Literally, spiritually, as well as figuratively.  Ancient civilizations built wonderful temples and can trace their origins back at some point to the Lord's temples - including the ancient Egyptians beginning with Ham for righteous purposes: 

 

26 Pharaoh, being a righteous man, established his kingdom and judged his people wisely and justly all his days, seeking earnestly to imitate that order established by the fathers in the first generations, in the days of the first patriarchal reign, even in the reign of Adam, and also of Noah, his father, who blessed him with the blessings of the earth, and with the blessings of wisdom, but cursed him as pertaining to the Priesthood. (Abraham 1). 

(The priesthood lineage was determined through the mother, not the father, and Ham's mother, Egyptus was not of the lineage pertaining to the priesthood.  So though Ham held the priesthood, under the patriarchal law, Pharaoh could not, because his father married outside the lineage covenant).  

 

However, the Egyptian temples were built to elevate man's mind above the common, above the coarse, to lift them up above the mundane - with the finest craftsmanship that could be obtained (before they deviated from the original teachings).  

 

Their foundations were laid at night by Pharoah himself with his astronomers so that the temple could line up with the stars, often pointing towards the North Star, orienting the temple towards the center of the earth's revolutions, symbolizing that all the kingdom and religious life would similarly rotate around the temple which was lined up with God's center of the world.  And so were most civilizations temples designed to signify the connection between civilization with the divine.

 

Modern temples are also built to the best quality available in conjunction with the consecration of the place with the Holy Spirit by suffering no unclean thing to enter therein so that the whole experience is one that raises man up to a higher world. Indeed, the Lord's temples are a first step up towards that world.  Not only do we build with our best, we also prepare and enter with our best selves, and there receive His best.

 

And so it should be that for the temples to do this, and the values and virtues that are taught therein by covenant, that they should all be of the finest quality and be the pinnacle of man's capability that God has blessed him with as an act of devotion to Him, and in an effort to draw closer to Him, so that all things therein remind man of his creator, and point man back to Him. 

Where the saints have been poor, they still built to the best of their ability, including in their wanderings in the desert where they made the Ark of the Covenant and then the portable Tabernacle and even the Breastplate with the twelve stones for the twelve tribes of Israel - twelve sons, twelve covenants, all were precious stones of the day in one fashion or another (and some were not to be found anywhere near where the ancient Israelites were when this was made, so the stones either had been traded there by commerce or an expedition had to be sent to find them), and all were unique: sardius (ruby), topaz, carbuncle (garnet), emerald, sapphire, diamond, jacinth, agate, amethyst, beryl, onyx and jasper.    

 And so the criticism  that too much is spent on the temples when the money could be spent on the poor is an empty argument. Indeed, money should be devoted to the poor, and much is - by last account nearly one billion dollars in one year from the church, not even counting all the free hours and devotion and service to the communities that are unpaid through volunteer efforts.   

 

But, there are things that the poor can't receive from donations but which are necessary for their eternal progression and that make them rich in eternity, and that can only be conferred through a consecrated, and holy, properly built and dedicated temple: the covenants of eternity.  And the temples are a forerunner of an enlightened world where the Lord provides us His best, and so as we strive towards them, we need to build and dedicate our best in a reminder of Him.  

 

All the rest of the world can also donate money to the poor, but only the Lord's church and priesthood can build a temple, and the Lord has specified how the temples are to be built and has taught why. And the entire world, rich and poor, are invited to come therein to partake of His spirit which isn't found anywhere else like it is in His dedicated house.  

 

Indeed, I was a tour guide for the Meridian, Idaho Temple before its dedication.  It was very strange to lead tours of people while yelling so the back of the group could hear me while we walked through the temple - but without the Holy Spirit that accompanied its dedication, it was (intended purpose aside) just another building. It was very odd just how used to the spirit I was in the temples, but now it was not (yet) there. 

We need to give the Lord our best, not just in money, but in energy, effort, focus, devotion, sacrifice, and he in return has promised us His.  The temple is just another of the very special symbols of Heavenly Father where this can take place - between Heaven and Earth. If we point to the cost or size of the building alone as an indicator of its value or lack thereof, we will truly miss the Lord's temples.

A New Perspective on the Word of Wisdom

 Amazing how things look different a few decades later, and so much time has passed, yet it seems but an instant. 

I used to hate* the word of wisdom because of how people reacted and responded to it and the (to me) mindless debates that ensued in any class that covered it.  Instantly the endless discussions and breaking down of food into measurements, anything can be an addiction, comparing Tylenol to hard drugs, and even over-drinking water, yadda yadda yadda, always seemed to miss the point to me. It wasn't the word of wisdom that bothered me.  It was how we regarded it.

I hated the topic.  

Similarly, having gone to college and graduate school in the then-health-conscious Portland Area (now I think they do a lot more meth and fentanyl than they used to), it seemed that going into a health-food store was another extreme where people would compete to see who could out-healthy-each other.

But some time has given me a new perspective as I...mature.

First, our mortal bodies aren't forever.  These temples?  We have to take care of them.  And that means that we need to spend time in connection with our bodies - our temples. 

Not just not drinking alcohol, and not doing drugs.  

Nor is it just eating healthy - you can't eat your way to heaven, nor can you abstain your way to heaven.

It's also about rest.  

Relaxation.  

Stretching.  

Sleep.  

Meditation.  

Developing talents.  

Brushing your teeth.  

Getting fresh air.

Taking care of your hearing.

It's about living life.

Getting an education and developing your mind.

Developing a skill and improving your talents. 

Living life!

We live in a country with more processed food-products than anywhere in the world or than ever in history.  But we need to be making the choices that bring true happiness, spiritually, temporally, eternally - rather than living a life solely focused on "comfort and consumption."  

Taking care of our temples is truly the "word of wisdom."

No Substitutions, Please

Th time may be coming when if I do not have to close my blog, I will have to acknowledge what it is, and what it isn't.

For those who have followed me for the years Latter Day Musings has been up, this has been a spiritual journey - a journey of insights, of musings, of thoughts, experiences, some travels, some humor, some history, some family stories.

As the world changes, so must we in response if we are to keep ahead of things and in the things the Lord has for us. 

In some ways, like many I've enjoyed and seen their blogs and such "mature" over time, I am not certain if I am as well, or my blog has reached the end of it's intended life and purpose.

There are many things in here which cannot be construed, nor should they, to be the ultimate declarations of faith, testimony, and certainly not doctrine.  Some are stepping stones to further knowledge, and later on I often seem to be disagreeing with myself much earlier. 

At this point I have an impressive 900+ entries in here, whether they go away or not, I don't know yet.

But for now, I am wary in a world where personal blogs become substitutions for or distractions from church doctrine - and I'm always wary of starting a spiritual hobby on sacred things, or being considered one or being confused for one or the other.  The number of reads on there are pretty low, and I keep it that way.   But again, times are changing, I'm entering a public light more and more and in time I know my thoughts and all other character shortcomings or any other excuse that will be made to detract from me are coming. 

Fr now I'm not certain what will become of this blog, but I may have to make a decision as to what to do in days and times to come soon, but if this is no longer here, know that I have been told to remove it - meanwhile I thank you for your blessings of having been a reader to this. 

I thank you again and I give praise and thanks to our Lord for what I have been granted here.

For now I close, in Jesus' name, amen.

Restoration with Cups Song

I used to teach the restoration with cups on my mission to the DEEP south.   I remember one lesson in particular in a restaurant (I'd teach anywhere!) and people were really fascinated by it - but boy did it cause a stir to even someone "laying hands" on my companion over the lesson.  But I never did this song - thought it was worth sharing.

Tying My Wife's Shoes

She sat in her wheelchair, impatiently yet patiently waiting for me. 

She knew I could only move so fast with her three children, a little one tugging at me and an older one having a fit about how she didn't want to look stupid at church with the wrong kinds of socks and crying about not being able to find any.  The oldest groaned about getting up early, heaving those heavy sighs around the house indicating he wasn't happy to have to do this or anything.

I let the complaints wash over me and enjoyed the little one tugging at me as I tended to my work. 

As I unlaced the shoes, her legs, that once had gone hiking with me, had taught me to dance, had gone for walks on the beach, now hung emaciated, blood pooling in her legs from lack of use, and immobile and essentially...useless.  All they could be used for now really was to wear shoes, and that was just so they wouldn't get colder than they already were from not getting any use.

Shoes.

She used to wear nice shoes. 

She used to love nice shoes.

Now, shoes were just a matter of convenience really.  A burden, really.  She couldn't put them on herself much anymore except for her crocks and even then required help.  They were just one more item in a long list of items that needed to be taken care of that she couldn't do herself anymore as she increasingly became helpless.  As she watched me work with her shoes, she not only saw me prep to put them on her for her, she also saw the years rendering her entirely immobile, confining her to a bed, to watch her children come and go but not be able to share those experiences with them because she couldn't follow them or keep up with them anymore.

If her back or even her legs itched?  She couldn't scratch it anymore.  Those days were gone as the disability ravaged her body from its own effects in combination with three child births.  Now, even putting on shoes was its own exasperation.  Those little things you take for granted, that you don't even think about, but will notice if they aren't done right such as the sock seam running under a toenail, or the tongue of the shoe not being properly positioned, the laces snugged just right...can't be done herself anymore. And nice shoes? She's down to two pairs of crocks and a pair of black Nike Jordan's with pink hearts on them, cute, but totally not the style she ever wore and just a matter of convenience.  On the upside, shoes never need be replaced because she doesn't wear them out.  The same pair, year after year after year.

And out of her love she didn't dare complain, she was just happy not to have been abandoned as happened to so many with her disease.  Husbands who decided this was more of a burden than they could carry, served divorce papers, took the children, and placed them in nursing homes to atrophy and die.

It isn't perfect but we figure it out, forgive, repent, apologize, press forward and try to make it the best we can. 

What lies ahead in the years to come, I don't know.

Helpless doesn't even begin to describe how I feel as I have to do more and more just to make life functional.  Becoming aware of how she likes her socks put on so that they don't drive her crazy, paying attention to tags that she can no longer fix that itch and drive her crazy, learning how to part her hair so she doesn't feel like a freak in public with that annoying part-gone-awry that drives so many of us nuts before we leave the house....

How does it end? 

I don't know.

Overwhelmed?  Yeah.  And starting a new career and raising three children while I have to leave her at home now and even leave her behind as I head across the state to start working a job to earn pay for us to move into a new place by my new work.  The world rushes around me and yet I have no idea how I am going to make it work.

Peoples' criticisms of me or even of her fall on deaf ears anymore for how hard we do or don't work at this or make it work.  It is our own path that others haven't walked.  Even if the path looks similar, we are different people carrying our own hidden burdens.  We each have to walk our own path the best we can. 

Walk a mile in someone elses' shoes?  It isn't possible.  It never will be. 

I don't have energy to try someone elses' shoes, or even to criticize their footwear.  I got my own path to walk, with my wife rolling beside me with three children in tow, an uncertain path ahead of us that doesn't look too favorable.  Whether you are grateful or not, or think your path is harder or easier....it doesn't matter, except I wish you well. I have to focus on the path ahead of us, and I don't have energy to do much else and hope that I don't slow others down from their important journeys in this world.

For now, I focus on making the laces "just right" because she can't do it herself.  I pull the tongue out and turn her socks so the seam doesn't bother her as her feet prepare to hang uselessly and untended for the rest of the day as the world and we march on our way while she sits in maddening discomfort that even medication can't fix most days for those little things she can't do herself anymore.

Curse the disability?  It doesn't do much good.  I've tried.  It is still there.  I'm still here.  We're still here.  But not as much as we used to be.  And yet more than we used to be as we become grateful for those small details we used to take for granted, thankful for them when we get to enjoy them.

So I focus for now, just for a moment, and let the world go on its merry way because I have work to do and its more important than almost anything right now.  I don't know how I'll do what else is going to come, and nothing else matters but for just this moment, I'm tying my wife's shoes.

How To Go On A Family Outing

How To Plan And Execute (note use of word "execute") a Family Outing.

Step:
1 - do no planning whatsoever - make sure the trip is spontaneous to maximize the fun-potential and freedom

2 - begin to sigh a breath of relief about how you feel free because you're spontaneous and going out with your family

This is my kids right here....actually this was today...

3 - however plan to get up early on the day of the outing because going out late will not give you enough time to be fully free
4 - in the spirit of being fully free - and spontaneous - stay up wayyyyy too late so that getting up early isn't even a possibility

5 - refuse to set an alarm because that's too stressful
6 - oversleep
7 - enjoy oversleeping
8 - feel free and unstressed from oversleeping
9 - slowly wake up
10 - realize now you don't have all the time in the world you needed because you stayed up too late and overslept
11 - begin to stress
12 - continue to adhere to the plan of no plans and run around in chaotic fashion barking at the kids because they aren't moving fast enough
13 - get into an argument with the wife about how nothing's where you need it to be and the totally free and unplanned and spontaneous mentality has cut into your ability to be totally free and unplanned and spontaneous
14 - wife bark at dad for getting on the kids
15 - kids act oblivious and continue to run around like hellions
16 - as an alternative to 15 - begin to cry
17 - dad bark at kids for not being happy we're going on a family outing
18 - husband and wife get mad at each other as they rush over each other still maintaining the plan of no planning while trying to plan and trying to have fun
19 - kids go outside finally and make so much noise they aggravate the neighbors
20 - dad open car and let kids in and shut doors so they can't be heard murdering each other

I WISH it was this quiet....

21 - realize that even with the car doors shut and through the inside of the house when it's finally quiet you CAN hear the kids murdering each other in the car
22 - continue to argue with wife until you get outside late for your unplanned and spontaneous free day
23 - get wife in car so she can bark at kids
24 - FINALLY - family about to hit the road!
25 - dad forget something spontaneously unplanned and leave wife and kids in car to murder each other
26 - dad check to see if he can hear family being murdered from inside shut car through house
27 - decide don't want to hear it - take extra long taking one last pee-break enjoying the silence and freedom of a spontaneously unplanned day in the quiet of an empty house
28 - get back to car in bad mood because everyone's fighting
29 - remember forgot to say family prayer before leaving
30 - pull it together just enough to be reverent enough for a family prayer
31 - try to give a meaningful family prayer and ask for the family to get along
32 - become irritated at kids for not being reverent during prayer and try to be reverent while becoming annoyed
33 - immediately go back to barking at kids for not being reverent
34 - mom try to make peace by telling dad to calm down
35 - dad throw fuel on the fire by bringing up a past transgression of mom's when she didn't calm down
36 - mom bring up bad habit of dad of never forgiving or forgetting
37 - kids pay close attention to parents now and be quiet so they can listen to parents verbally sparring
38 - dad disengage from family and stew in silence and decide to have a happy free and spontaneous day while begrudgingly driving family out to do their activity
39 - kids fight now that it's quiet then family finally decide to calm down because family is on the road on way to fun outing
40 - dad realize he forgot something really important at store
41 - mom and dad argue about money and time lost going to store
42 -go to store
43 - dad feel peace while wife and kids locked in car murdering each other over being bored and dad take too long shopping for a bunch of things not even on the list
44 - dad come out happy from shopping
45 - mom glare at dad for taking too long
46 - dad totally be a guy and play stupid that since he got a break from the family while they murdered each other in the car they should all be in a good mood
47 - dad say something insensitive about family refusing to get along and not respecting each other and realize forgot what he went in for
48 - kids fuss so dad threatens to cancel trip
49 - kids beg to go and immediately behave

50 - mom plead with dad to continue hellish free spirited and unplanned and spontaneous trip for the kids because they didn't get out at all this week and they are driving her up a wall
51 - carry out unplanned hellish free spirited and unplanned and spontaneous trip
52 - kids occassionally start to murder each other in the back seat with increasing frequency while dad tries to ignore it
53 - dad completely withdraw into himself
54 - mom act happy looking out the window in an effort to cheer things up
55 - dad turn up radio to drown out kids fighting
56 - mom complain radio's too loud so dad withdraws back into self in silence
57 - finish activity and have a meaninful time in some fashion and try to forget chaos
58 - mom point out if it weren't for dad persevering family wouldn't have gotten out today
59 - mom thank dad for hanging in there
60 - dad realize this time really is precious and important
61 - dad apologize to kids for barking at them and threatening them with physical harm
63 - kids foolishly forgive dad and continue to wander within arms reach of spankings in the future
64 - have family prayer thankful for the day
65 - kids go to bed
66 - realize it wasn't so bad after all
67 - forget all the stupidity and fighting that went on all day
68 - not feel completely de-stressed from day however
69 - in the mood of the evening - talk about doing something else totally free-spirited and unplanned and spontaneous to counter not-yet-unstressedness
70 - wait until family is too stressed out and needs another break
71 - plan another totally free-spirited and unplanned and spontaneous activity
72 - go back to step 1

Christmas Trains & Childhood Memories of Pennies

Despite whatever regrets I may have about childhood, one thing my dad was good at was being a kid.  I never met either of my grandpas, but I understand they were pretty good at it too.  I'm talking about being kids - not grown idiots that get arrested and set a bad example and act like they are 13 - kids.

Like having fun or doing the things a kid would want to do.

So for Christmas, dad wouldn't spend a bunch of money on the big gifts, but would get me a bunch of small gifts - like dollar store gifts by the boat-load with a few big ones mixed in.  It was a great way of stretching the dollar and maximizing Christmas.  Things like "Flippy subs" and "Jacobs ladders" as well as balsa airplanes were pretty standard fare - and a lot of fun.

But the one thing I really wanted?  An electric train set.  I was fascinated with trains since our trip to Canada back in 1980 when during the whole drive up and back we saw trains that stretched for well over a mile.  I suppose Oaks Amusement Park having a mini-train that I rode on every year at the Portland Police Picnic and just went round and round on contributed.  But a train set in the mind of a child isn't a toy.  It's REAL.  Just as real as a real one.  And I wanted one.  My parents bought me lots of little substitutes from that time to placate me but nothing would do but a REAL train set. And I knew just the man who could get me one.

So I went to see Santa.....


And I told him what I wanted - an electric train set.....

He said he'd see to it....

And Christmas came.....

And Christmas went...

And there was no train set.....

Apparently Santa AND my parents didn't think I was big enough for one yet.  I was maybe five or so.

I was pretty heart broken.  I don't know how this Santa stuff works, but he HAD to know I wanted one and would be responsible with it.  More than that kid and his Red Ryder BB Gun on TV anyways, though this was before he came around....I thought Santa knew everything???

In psychology studies it's been demonstrated that our personalities are very largely similar in childhood as they are when we are adults - looking back at the encounter to follow, I think I can definitely see some similarities - both in reasoning and in...um....oratorical wit for a six year old - which hasn't really stopped when I get fired up even today.

Another year passes and mom takes me down the Oregon City Shopping Center to see Santa again.

My turn comes....

Santa sits there with his arms out telling me it is my turn....

I stand there with my hands on my hips and a scowl on my face....

Mom gives me a bit of a nudge....

So Santa asks me what I want for Christmas from where he sat rather than waiting for me...

And I stood there refusing to move and reply with all the irritation that a 6 year old can muster up without being a spoiled brat quite yet "I want the train set you didn't bring me LAST year!"

Santa's mouth almost dropped and he stopped looking at me.

His eyes narrowed and his gaze shifted up from my six year old frame and turned to a glare at my mother standing next to me who suddenly wasn't next to me and was acting like I wasn't her kid and she was shocked some kid would be so mouthy to Santa.

At any rate, that year - the train set was delivered.  It was there Christmas morning.  Completely set up.  It was an O-Scale steam engine complete with a logging mill and in a giant four foot by six foot wooden box, green grass felt and the entire thing could be picked up and put against the wall if it needed to be put away in one move.

And.....there was my dad and my uncle Randy playing with MY train set!

THE AUDACITY!

That evening when the grandmother and great grandmother came over - I heard how my dad's own train set got violated by his dad and uncles as well.  Must be a family thing.  I was told that Santa asked Dad to test it for me and make sure it worked, just like Santa asked Grandpa to test dad's.

O gauge track

"Well, if SANTA said you could play with it then I guess it's okay.  I mean, he did bring it after all....I'm not gonna argue with Santa...."

At any rate, the O-Scale train was a lot of fun. But I still wanted more.  A "REAL" looking train set - not the "three-railed" O-scale set - I wanted two rails, not three.

So, since income as a seven year old is difficult to come by - I didn't get paid to do chores because I was expected to do chores, and I was too young to mow lawns, I had to find another way to get the train set sooner than Santa would bring it and without having to bug mom and dad for the money.

What to do...what to do....?

Then, my second grade class had a pinata for a party.  We were to all bring a bit of candy and a penny or a few nickles or something in it.

We all got to smash at it with a stick and I learned a few things: One - you don't want to be the person who breaks it open because then you don't see where the goods go.  Second - there's other things more important in this world than candy.  There was cash in that pinata.  Cash in the form of pennies and nickels, dimes and some quarters.

I was small but I was fast.  I was in that circle and I went after the cash as fast as my little arms could go.  The other kids were so stupidly and naively attracted to the candy.  Foolish, foolish children.  There was money to be made here.  Worked for me though! 

HO scale track

In a few moments I literally had a mound of pennies and nickels.

Not just a mound - I had about $30 or $32 dollars in pennies!

That's about 3,200 pennies.

Do you know what about 3,200 pennies looks like or feels like exploding over a crowd of school kids from a pinata?  Its kind of dangerous.  But the danger that makes the more timid souls run for cover bought me time.

When it was over, I sat guarding this massive pile of pennies and had a tootsie roll, a piece of bubble gum and that was it.  Oh, and a butt-load of money for a 7 year old.

When the kids realized what my plan was and that they had the candy and I literally had the biggest pile of money any of us had seen - one of them told me I *HAD* to give them some.

Huh HAH!  Not without a price.  This is where I began being a salesman.

Two pieces of candy for a penny - which is a better deal than just getting it for free. 

So now I'm selling money for candy at far-below-market value (of Candy that is).

The trip home on the bus found me with a paper grocery bag on the seat next to me full of cash and me with a smug grin on my face.  Visions of steam engines danced in my head.  Soon I would have my wish. 

At any rate, I got to buy my HO scale (two rails, not three) train set, but the problem was there wasn't enough room to put it anywhere in the house permanently.  So dad took a 4'x8' piece of plywood and ran four ropes to the four corners and up to a pulley system on the garage ceiling that went to a boat winch.  Now my train set could come down from the ceiling to play and be put up for storage - no problem.

I wish I could say I took good care of the train set, but boys will be boys.  Lots of experiments with collisions and running them off cliffs as well as just use took their toll over the years though I did develop some really nice sets as well.  I learned about electricity and not shocking myself as well as came to loathe electricity.  But besides my bike growing up - probably nothing holds as many wonderful, concentrated and real memories as my train sets.

I never did become an engineer like I wanted to.  I think I'm getting too old to now and I'm on track becoming a psychologist - but for all intents and purposes I was an engineer of the HO-Scale variety.

I think it must be time for my son to get his own train set and me to play with it to test it out first and defile it before he gets to play with it and make a deal with Santa that I'm to test it out.

Mission Memories......."That Means I'm Jewish"

Even though I was a returned military veteran and 25 years old as I went on my mission - there were a lot of things I was still naive to in which I helped contribute to the sometimes-notion/impression that missionaries aren't that bright.


A mission is a learning experience. But sometimes.....well.....it can be entertaining as well.....

 I didn't know all the different religions yet nor much about them.  I was brand new, serving with Elder Keyes (eyes - with a "K") in Baton Rouge.   Anyways, if you don't know, Jews put a Mezuzah on their door post (to the side of the door) on the house reminding them of the ten commandments and they often touch it, or symbolically kiss their hand and then touch them as they pass by in their goings into and out of the home to remind them to go out and come in in the name of the Lord.  This is a fancy one and very pretty with the 12 stones representing the 12 tribes (sons of Jacob/Israel) and the 12 stones worn on the breastplate of Aaron.  Not usually so decorative, but pretty nonetheless. 




Anyways, also on some doors are wreath hangars of various fashions like this one:  

 And other times they have various fancy bulbs in their porch light - sometimes looking like this....

 And still other times, they have nails left in the door from some unspecified festivity/purpose but with nothing hanging on them.

 Well.....the door we went to for this particular story had all four.  A Mezuza, a wreath holder, fancy bulbs and two nails sticking out of the door. 


I didn't know what a Mezuza was nor did I know what a wreath holder was.  No clue.  Never needed to know and never paid attention.  I knew what nails were and fancy bulbs but anyways, all this plays an important part in the exchange to follow.

So, Elder Keyes and I are tracting in Baton Rouge and this gentleman says to us at the door, "I'm not interested in what you are sharing....see that over there?" pointing in the direction of the Mezuzah but sort of towards the porch light "It means I'm Jewish." 


Me, a bit puzzled, looked at the porch light and said, "Those fancy bulbs mean you're Jewish?"  (Frick...the whole neighborhood must be Jewish! I thought.) 


"No, not that....the thing on the door!"


I looked at the wreath holder not knowing what it was....what a strange religious symbol! "Oh!" I said politely. ".....THAT means you're Jewish?....what IS that?" (I was trying to figure out how it represented the Jewish faith and all sorts of weird thoughts went through my head as I tried to fathom what this thing had to do with God).


"NO!  Not that...the thing in the middle of the door!"


There hung two empty nails.....such a mystery. 


"Oh......whatever it was....I think...it fell down...."  I began looking around for the symbol of the Jewish faith that had fallen off the door to help the poor man find the declaration of his faith in a gesture of goodwill towards men.


The poor man looked exasperated and was clearly wondering if I was stupid.  My companion looked like he was going to hurt himself trying not to laugh.  


"NOT THAT! THAT THING! RIGHT! THERRRRREEE!"  and he touched the Mezuza in the middle of the door post looking like he wanted to grab my head to show it to me.


"Oh THAAAAT!  That means you're Jewish?" 


"YES!" 


"OHHHHH! Okay....what's that?" 


He was very kind to teach me a bit about Judaism and the Mezuza. I can't say I taught him a whole lot about Christ, other than He takes the willing and not necessarily the educated.  But after this, I can never see a nails on a door, a wreath holder or sometimes the fancy bulbs in a porch light without remembering that none of those things symbolize that someone is Jewish....and start cracking up.