Mormon Life - Peace tag

Silence encourages feelings of refreshment

Wed, 03 Aug 2011 12:43:00 -0600

source: MormonTimes.com

Mormon Life says: Maybe we don't appreciate silence enough. Food for thought. As members of the LDS Church, we give a lot of lip service to silence. We believe "silence is golden." And when conversations turn silent we say, "An angel just passed by."

But when things grow quiet, we Mormons also grow antsy.

We're doers.

Brigham Young felt the beehive was the perfect emblem for Utah and thought "Industry" was a great state motto. Even the name of this newspaper — "Deseret" — means honeybee.

FHE: Peace

Mon, 20 Dec 2010 05:03:00 -0700

by Shauna Gibby
source: MormonLife.com

Mormon Life says: In the most difficult circumstances of life, there is often only one source of peace: The Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ. *For a printable pdf, click here.

Conference Talk:
For more information on this topic read “Turn to the Lord,” by Donald L. Hallstrom, Ensign, May 2010, 78–80.

Thought:
In the most difficult circumstances of life, there is often only one source of peace: The Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ.
(Donald L. Hallstrom, “Turn to the Lord,” Ensign, May 2010, 78–80.)

Song:
“Keep the Commandments,” Children’s Songbook, p. 146.

Scripture:
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I
unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. (John 14:27)

Lesson:
Ask family members to think of times of trial and difficulty when they felt that no one could understand what they were going through. Tell your family you are going to read the words of a hymn that asks questions and then gives answers. Read the first two verses of “Where Can I Turn for Peace?” (Hymns, no. 129.)

1. Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart,
Searching my soul?

2. Where, when my aching grows,
Where, when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand? [Have a family member give an answer.]
He, only One.

Ask who “He, only One” refers to. As you read together Hebrews 4:14–16, have your family look for why He can understand our sorrows and our grief. Ask:

• Are there any trials we face that the Savior does not understand?
• Are there any sorrows for which the Lord cannot give comfort? Why?
• What do we need to do to take full advantage of what “He” offers?

Share an experience when the Savior brought you peace, comfort, or understanding.
(Beth Lefgren and Jennifer Jackson, Building Blocks for Better Lessons, [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1998], p. 56.)

Story:
I’m sure my parents received the announcement of an impending hurricane with little enthusiasm, but for me, a boy of eleven, it was tremendously exciting. The menacing storm had crawled along just off the eastern coast of the United States as far north as New Jersey and was turning onto the land. Now the hurricane was headed directly for our small town of Toms River.

It was summer, so there was no school, and I just stayed around home waiting for the storm to hit. The sky was overcast. The feeling of anticipation was electric. Preparations of window taping, battery changing, and water storing made it all the more dramatic.

Then the wind began to blow. Just a breeze at first, but it soon became a mighty, howling beast that drove the raindrops like bullets and took up, if it could, anything not tied down.

I stationed myself out on the big porch of our house just out of the rain and watched as the forces of nature unraveled. A garbage can clanged down the street like a tin can pulled behind some newlyweds’ jalopy. Lightning, thunder, broken tree limbs, and flying debris? wow, what a great storm!

After a while the wind seemed to die down rather suddenly. There were a few breaks in the clouds. The patches of blue sky, the birds singing, and the now- soft breeze almost made me forget about the natural disaster that only minutes before had been ravaging our neighborhood. It was peaceful and beautiful, a calm beyond calm. It was the eye of the hurricane.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that the pace would pick up again before we were through with this windy, rainy struggle, and, sure enough, the full force of the hurricane was back upon us in short order. Round one, a bit of a breather, and now round two.

Thank goodness there was no knockout punch! Actually, I enjoyed the whole thing, from start to finish, but I think the town felt a little beat up when the storm finally passed for good.

Sometimes our lives are a lot like that storm. The winds of stress and pressure blow hard. Work,
family, and other responsibilities send all kinds of things clanging across our path, great challenges to
our intellectual preparation, emotional stability, and physical resistance. Life can be incredibly fun, but
we do sometimes feel a little beat up.

How nice to realize that there is for each of us a place where the blue sky shines through, the birds sing, and the soft breezes blow. There’s a quiet place deep down inside of us, away from the storm. Here we can find a brief reprieve from the daily disaster. All we have to do is learn to go there from time to time. We can enjoy a refreshing calm that will strengthen us against the onslaught that, just like the other half of the hurricane, surely must descend upon us.

A quiet place, a quiet mind, a comfortable chair, and a pleasant thought. Hold that thought. If it escapes, quietly bring it back. It will stay a little longer this time. A bit of practice and you can go to the eye of your personal hurricane whenever you need to. Just knowing it is there can often be comfort enough.

(Don H. Staheli, It’s the Principle of the Thing, [Salt Lake City: Shadow Mountain, 2002], p.113.)

Activity:
A person claps only the rhythm of a known hymn. The other players try to name the hymn from the rhythm being clapped. When someone guesses correctly they can be the clapper (or let everyone take a turn).

Refreshment:
Homestyle Baked Scones

You’ll love the homemade goodness of these scones.

31⁄2 cups flour
1⁄2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
3 1⁄2 cups whipping cream, divided
1 1⁄2 cups cranberries
Sugar for dipping

In a bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt; stir well. Add 3 cups whipping cream, reserving 1⁄2 cup, and the cranberries; stir just until moist. Roll dough out on a floured surface. Using a round cookie cutter or a glass, cut dough into circles. Dip tops of unbaked scones in remaining whipping cream and then in sugar. Place on lightly greased cookie sheets (12 per sheet). Bake at 425 degrees for 12 to 14 minutes. Serve warm with butter. Makes about 30 scones.

(Julie Badger Jensen, Essential Mormon Celebrations, [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2005], p. 19.)

10 Phrases that Prevent Arguments

Mon, 26 Jul 2010 18:00:00 -0600

by Claire Thornock Brazelton
source: MormonLife.com

Mormon Life says: How many times have you tried to offer someone advice, asked for help, or simply began a friendly conversation, only to have the interaction turn into an argument neither of you anticipated? Here are ten phrases to help keep everyone comfortable. Many contentions between family, friends, and coworkers occur because of a little-understood aspect of social IQ: using language that prevents conflicts. By watching what you say and approaching a conversation at a different angle, you have the power to keep the peace between yourself and those you interact with every day.

Elizabeth Fawcett, a family therapist and a professor of marriage enhancement at Brigham Young University, says that lack of positive or nice communication is one of the reasons contentions arise in marriage and in general. "I have talked to many married couples who feel that their spouse's heart is really in the right place when they talk, but they are saying things to them in a way that is hurtful," she says.

Speaking in an offensive way, Fawcett believes, is a key trigger that brings contention into a conversation, which causes listening on either side to decrease and communication to come to a halt. "If you speak in an offensive way, it makes the other person defensive. . . . They perceive that they are under attack and then proceed to shut down," she says. "When we find ourselves in that mode, we are not capable of hearing what is being said."

Fawcett believes that good communication is a reflection of the receiver. "It's not what we say that makes good communication, it's what we are hearing from the things that are said to us, and if we can't understand what is being said, that is when the problem occurs."

To help conversations avoid the evolution to argument, Fawcett suggests using these phrases the next time you are the sender or receiver in a discussion. You might be surprised how these phrases keep the peace and harmony between you and your spouse, friends, or colleagues.

1. "This is what I am hearing you say; is it what you are trying to tell me?" When you feel that you don't fully understand what is being said, repeat back in your words what you think the other person is saying. Stating things the way you are hearing them allows the speaker to rethink what he or she is saying and put it in different words that make it easier for you to understand.

2. "I have an opinion about this; are you interested in hearing it?" When listening to a spouse's or friend's problems, you may want to give your opinion on the situation. Always ask first if it is wanted. Half the time, people just want to vent, and if you interrupt and try to fix something, it may cause contention. By asking, it shows that you are really trying to help the situation. This phrase works especially well with children and teenagers.

3. "Let's just put that book on the shelf for now." Subjects discussed over and over again between spouses or colleagues can often cause tempers to flare. Setting the subject aside for a time allows nerves to calm and the conversation to stay positive. This phrase can be helpful for keeping the peace until a time when both sides can come back to the conversation ready to speak calmly about it.

4. "I need some help. Would you be willing to help me?" Some arguments start because family members or coworkers don't carry their share of responsibility. Instead of accusing the person of being lazy and rude, be assertive and ask for help - and be specific. "I need your help. If you wash the dishes, I will load them in the dishwasher." Say it in a friendly way, and don't be overly demanding.

5. "I am not trying to bring up any problems from the past, but . . . " It's hard to keep the peace between you and a spouse if you are constantly bringing up faults from the past. Don't bring them up unless you absolutely have to. Reassure your spouse, if you must talk about it, that you are not trying to rehash past injuries, but that this topic is important to you, and you feel you should discuss it.

6. "I need to talk. When is a good time for you?" Whenever you want the full attention of someone while you're speaking, scheduling a time to talk is often the best option. Between spouses, it's best to choose a time other than when your husband is watching the big game or your wife is on the phone with a friend. Finding time that fits both of your schedules allows for a more meaningful conversation and the avoidance of an argument. Your boss or coworkers will also appreciate this phrase.

7. "I am sorry you are upset." Oftentimes if friends or family don't take the advice you gave them, they still come back to complain about their situation. Instead of saying "I told you so," try to understand why your advice wasn't taken and really listen to the problem. By making a rude remark and rubbing in that your advice was best, you may start an argument, or worse, lose the trust of that person.

8. "I think you already know my opinion about this, but I can listen." If a friend always finds herself in the same problem and you have already given her your opinion multiple times, set a clear boundary. Tell her that you are willing to listen to the problem, but that she already knows your opinion; tell her if she hasn't liked your opinion so far, you might not be the right person to get advice from on this issue.

9. "Well, I have a different opinion about this subject, but thanks for yours." Most contention occurs because two people disagree. The goal in this situation is to be polite and end the conversation. Find a balance between the "me and you" factor in the conversation, and admit to having a different opinion but thank someone for theirs.

10. "I agree to disagree, and let's leave it at that." If you know that you are never going to see eye to eye with someone about a specific topic during a conversation, just agree to disagree and let the conversation end. It's not worth the time or energy to contend with someone about something when you know neither of you is going to change your mind about it.

Communication is perhaps the most vital element in any relationship. "The most important thing [in avoiding] arguments in communication is to slow down the process, try to hear what someone is saying, and express how we truly feel," Fawcett says. Making the effort to improve communication and prevent contention can allow us to see the other person more clearly and respect their opinions and individuality.

Just Keep Trying!

Mon, 29 Mar 2010 18:00:00 -0600

by Merrilee Boyack
source: MormonLife.com

Mormon Life says: The storms of life can be overwhelming spiritually, emotionally, and physically. But do you simply throw up your hands and hold your breath until the sun comes out? I've found that in trying times, it's best to just keep trying! Life sometimes feels like being in a riptide, those powerful currents that run underneath the ocean. If you're in one and you try to swim directly to shore, the riptide will drag you back out to sea. As you continue to try to make forward progress, it will sap your strength. Many people have died trying to make it to the shore in a riptide. The key to surviving is to swim parallel to the beach until you find a safe area where there is no riptide.

During difficult times in our lives, we swim sideways, hoping that the powerful forces that are buffeting us will slow down so we can make some forward progress again. Some days we're swimming strongly, some days we're just doggy-paddling along, and some days, we just float, trying to keep our heads above water. We just do what we can.

Do we curl up in bed and pull the covers over our head? Do we give up?

No!

In trying times, you just keep trying!

Choosing to Be Positive When faced with challenges, each of us has a choice presented to us: we can choose whether we will be weak or strong. It's interesting to ponder that choice.

I think it takes a lot of emotional energy to be weak. To be miserable and sad and depressed and discouraged and fearful takes a lot of work! Think of all the emotional energy that goes into those choices. It's pretty significant. Now consider how much emotional energy it takes to be strong. It takes effort to be strong and courageous and positive and brave, but I would contend that it takes less energy than choosing to be weak.

During my own fights in the last while, most recently with breast cancer, I knew I wanted to choose to be strong, but my choice was tested on a daily and sometimes hourly basis. I knew it was the right choice and the best choice for me, but it was certainly not an easy one.

I have come to look upon trials and tribulations for what they really are: strengthening opportunities. Doesn't that change how trials feel? Our challenges are tremendous opportunities to choose strength and to grow stronger as we do so.

So as we experience these "strengthening opportunities," what attitude should we choose?

Be of Good Cheer I like to take a long walk each morning and pray--it's a transforming experience for me--and even on the darkest days, I would make myself smile and say, "I am cheerful! I am happy! I am choosing to be positive!" Some days I said it through tears and pain. Many days. But each day I tried to choose to be cheerful, and that simple choice made an amazing difference.

One Sunday I was at church, conducting Relief Society. I was sporting an especially stylish cream-colored hat and looking pretty snappy, even if I was in a fog of chemotherapy. After the lesson, a woman came up to me and said, "Sister, I want to see your hair under your hat!"

I replied, "Oh, sister, I don't have any hair. I'm bald."

She seemed rather confused by that for a moment, even thought I had told her I was in chemo. "No, I want to see under your hat!"

I kept smiling. "Uh, sister, there's nothing under there."

But she was insistent and asked a third time.

So I lifted up my hat, and she gasped. "Sister! You are bald like a baby's bottom!"

I chuckled and said, "Yup, that's the truth."

She peered into my eyes and asked me, "But how can you be so happy and positive? You have no hair and you are sick. How can you be smiling?"

It was a moment when time stood still. I looked back into her eyes and said, "It's just hair. It will grow back. Every day I am faced with a choice. I can choose to be miserable and depressed, or I can choose to be cheerful and positive. I choose to be positive."

I can testify of the power of that choice. And when I was going through major chemical treatments, that choice was physically lifesaving. I would bound into my chemo treatments sporting my colorful Survivor buff of the week, the TV show's logo blazoned on the front. I would smile and laugh and chat with the other patients as we all sat hooked up to our IV's that were dripping liquid poisons into us. Bringing a positive attitude with me to my treatments made all the difference. Those who were negative and complained seemed to be suffering more than those who were willing to smile.

Choosing to Learn and Grow Many years ago, I was teaching Sunday School, and I asked the class to raise their hands if they had experienced a major adversity in their lives. Almost every hand went up. Then I asked, "How many of you would give up that experience?" All the same hands went back up--with enthusiasm. Oops! I realized I had asked the wrong question! "How many of you would give up all the learning that you gained from that experience?" The hands all went back down.

No one is thrilled over experiencing trying times. I doubt any of us have prayed to request trials and tribulations to come into our lives. But when they do come, they invariably bring blessings with them--if we let them.

Certainly we can endure trying times and not gain the benefit or understanding that is available to us. To obtain the full "good" from the experience requires a choice on our part. We must choose to approach these strengthening opportunities with an open mind of looking for learning.

I love this quote by Ronald E. Osborn: "Undertake something that is difficult; it will do you good. Unless you try to do something beyond what you have already mastered, you will never grow."

As we face trying times in our lives, we need to realize that within them are found great opportunities for growth that we could experience in no other way. We will find out what we're made of. So just keep trying!

--- Merrilee Boyack is an estate-planning attorney who conducts her law practice from home. She is also a professional lecturer, featured for many years at BYU Education Week. She and her husband, Steve, reside in Poway, California, and have four sons. Merrilee is the author of several books and talks, including Strangling Your Husband Is Not an Option; Toss the Guilt and Catch the Joy; and her most recent, In Trying Times, Just Keep Trying, from which this article is adapted. Now available at Deseret Book.

Lesson Helps: Eternal Families (John Taylor Lesson 21)

Thu, 06 Nov 2003 09:32:00 -0700

source: MormonLife.com

Mormon Life says: Read the following excerpts from Wayne E. Brickey's new book, Inviting Him In: How the Atonement Can Change Your Family, for some additional insight into the John Taylor Lesson 21, Strengthening Families. A Personal Matter

To welcome the home teachers, you merely open the door; they will not stay long. To attend a meeting, you just walk in; it will be over in a while. But our covenant-making is a long range commitment. Inviting Christ into the home is no casual matter (2 Kings 23:3).

So an altar—a covenant-making place—is no casual location. The sacrament table of a chapel fits this description. Each week at that modest altar, the Lord presents the symbols of his offering to us while we offer ourselves to him. We are not surprised to find altars in the temple, a perfect meeting spot for the three gospel offerings: the Father's, the Son's, and ours—the plan, the Atonement, the covenant. Christ and the family meet over an altar in the house of the Lord. Promises are exchanged like tender gifts.

What we profess in making promises, we prove by keeping them. Fidelity—doing what we say we will do—is the language of love. It is intensely personal, for only an individual can make a vow. And when inconvenience or pain arises, the decision to honor that vow can be made only in the privacy of a heart. Keeping a trust is a very private matter. A maxim often quoted by Church leaders says, "It is more important to be trusted than to be loved" (Marvin J. Ashton). 1

The covenant is a personal matter on the Father's part as well. Surely it was so when he made his original proposal to begin with. In a personal way he accepts the hourly gifts we make to him. And what could be more personal than the way in which he will fulfill his promise? (Leviticus 26:9, 11-12).

We are on earth to keep promises. Integrity makes a solid soul and glues us to each other. In great stories, unbending fidelity tips us off to the real hero, the genuine king or queen. Loyalty is royalty.

If a man vow a vow unto the Lord, or swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond; he shall not break his word, he shall do according to all that proceedeth out of his mouth (Numbers 30:1-2; D&C 82:10).

How shall we know our Father's heart? There is no better way than to do according to our vows, to be true to our word, to imitate him "who keepest covenant and mercy" (Nehemiah 9:32; 27-31; 1 Kings 8:56; D&C 98:3). We may have difficulty detecting his love in the occasional stern action he must take as the upholder of all things and defender of all law. But this is simply the greater proof that we can depend upon him.

The mountains shall depart and the hills be removed, but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed (3 Nephi 22:10; 22:1-9).

We find him unpredictable in a thousand ways because of the infinitude of his knowledge, the blinding rapidity of his thought, and the staggering innovation and beauty of his handiwork. But one thing about him is entirely knowable: he keeps his word. To subtract his covenant nature from our understanding of him is to downsize and demean him—a switching of gods. He has never been untrue and never will in all the eons that lie ahead.

[God] will never desert us. . . . He cannot do it (George Q. Cannon). 2

Daily life does not give much priority to our greatest treasure—the connection we have with God. Staring too much at the world, losing focus, we may forget or even forsake. Fainthearted bonds cannot last.

For if ye will not abide in my covenant ye are not worthy of me (D&C 98:15).

To break the covenant is to stop cleaving to God, to break the embrace. He is always calling us in his direction. If we do wander away, he beseeches us to find our way back to the parental arms we left. "His hand is stretched out still" (Isaiah 9:17; 10:4; 1 Nephi 19:13-16). But if it is to be a real embrace, it must be mutual.

When such a perfectly trustworthy being gives his word, we notice. Our interest is awakened by knowing that he keeps promises and that he promises so much. His honesty is "an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast" (Hebrews 6:19; 6:17-18). He inspires trust. No wonder Nephi referred to the "many covenants of the Lord" as the "parts which are plain and most precious" of the ancient scriptures. And no wonder Satan schemed to have those very parts taken away in order to "blind the eyes and harden the hearts of the children of men" (1 Nephi 13:26-27). If we lose sight of God's personal vows to us, the gospel seems to lose size and beauty. So the prophets constantly beg us to be "mindful always of his covenant" (1 Chronicles 16:15; Exodus 24:7-8; Deuteronomy 4:23; 2 Kings 17:38; 23:2-3; 2 Chronicles 34:30). All sorts of reminders, forever pointing at the covenant, are built into gospel culture: ordinances, special days, the written word, meetings, buildings, and even clothing (Genesis 3:21; Deuteronomy 31:25-26; Joshua 3:3, 17; 1 Kings 6:19; 8:21; Moses 5:6-7; 6:63).

On the title page of the Book of Mormon, the Lord gives us an assignment. He says that his latter- day people should know "what great things the Lord hath done for their fathers; and that they may know the covenants of the Lord" (see also 2 Nephi 9:1). So what great things has he done for our ancient kindred?

Noah's family had the covenant we now have, and by means of it they were held in the Lord's hand. Consider the large clan of Jacob, surviving a famine and creating a legacy of faith against all odds. Think of Joseph being delivered from an Egyptian prison. Think of Lehi and Sariah coping with deserts and seas. The stories reach back and stretch on. They are stories of both deliverance and inheritance. We can read what God did for those of old, and we can believe that he will do the same for us (Isaiah 51:1-; Helaman 3:30; D&C 132:37).

Few things are more worthy of our attention than to "know of the covenants of the Lord," which is a prime purpose of the Book of Mormon. And few goals are more worthy of our families than having the covenant written "in their inward parts, and . . . in their hearts" (Jeremiah 31:33). In this language of love, we invite him in.

The Madness of Anger

The way of love and faith is the only happy way through this life. In fact, it is the only way through at all. Unfortunately, many families take another path—the dead end of discord and discontent. As charity covers sins, anger suffocates righteousness (1 Peter 4:8).

Life offers us a constant choice between the heaving surges of anger and the peaceful streamlets of grace. If we do not choose the grace of Christ, we choose the disgrace of Satan. To choose the way of our enemy is madness.

The Lord says, "Be of good cheer" (John 16:33; D&C 61:36). Satan says be downcast, be offended at this and that, be discouraged and discouraging, be negative, cranky, harsh, skeptical, angry, mad.

[Zion] shall be the only people that shall not be at war one with another (D&C 45:69).

This stunning prophecy does more than reassure us that Zion will not be at war. It tells us that Zion's people will not be fighting "one with another." Among the Lord's covenant people, there will not be contention even on a private or family basis. That will be unusual for this old battle- worn planet. It will be a modern miracle: no ill will, no strife, no yelling, no hostility between acquaintances. They will be the "only people" on earth not cursed with the madness of anger.

The miracle must begin in the way we react to anger. It is in that moment when only one person is angry (so far) that anger either loses force or catapults into a miserable cycle. Though we may feel the lash of anger upon our own hearts, we must decide not to spread the pain any further. There cannot be a peaceful latter- day Zion if we get angry at anger (JST, Ephesians 4:26).

Our first mistake is to believe that resentment is healthy, that blame must be assigned, or that we have some right to vengeance. Somehow, these fatal germs of the fallen world can breed in the mind if we believe the wrong things. But the truth is that we have a right—an assigned and wonderful role—to close gaps, show hope, and soften hearts. This does not mean that we should be soft- headed, gullible, or foolish. We are to be redemptive and wise—bigger than anger and contention.

This is not my doctrine, to stir up the hearts of men with anger, one against another; but this is my doctrine, that such things should be done away (3 Nephi 11:30; Ephesians 6:4).

How much conflict should there be at home? A moderate amount? A little? These answers miss altogether what the great Lord of our lives commands us. "Such things"—anger, contention, or anything similar—"should be done away." The commandment sounds as if it means now, within in the hour, today, before the sun sets.

Repeatedly reviewing and rehearsing the same painful events and the same hurts brings to mind the image of a cow rechewing and redigesting its cud. If we do not have the stomach for that image, how can we stomach something even more ghastly: the overripe and bitter refuse of old conflicts, chewed over and over?

Perhaps we believe our disputes ought to be reviewed one more time and that we have a right to all our claims and blames. Wherever we got that idea, it was not from the covenant of peace.

We are not even to rail (which means to speak with contempt or spite) against our worst enemy, Satan (D&C 50:33). Surely it makes no sense, then, to insult or upbraid our loved ones.

If I go all day without taking offense—without bitterness or even complaint—no blessing will be lost. If I should happen to miss something, if I fail to detect blame in some person, so what? Perhaps I can keep this up all year. If I get that far, why not continue in this good pattern for all eternity?

For behold, at that day shall he rage in the hearts of the children of men (2 Nephi 28:20).

The sound of anger is Satan's echo among us. It radiates his presence. To be mad is to be a prosthesis, an artificial limb, for one or more evil spirits. If we cannot detect the darkness of our anger—if we do not notice the vast reduction in light—heaven certainly does.

Some people who live together have developed a tendency, maybe even an addiction, to be easily offended at each other. As a result, their eruptions become commonplace, occurring weekly or even daily. Life at home was never intended to be that way, and it does not need to be that way, even when living with the weak or wayward. We can hardly imagine how the curt and unkindly home strikes observers in heaven, where harmony is an unbroken way of life.

Even the angels, who have the moral authority of heaven, refrain from speaking evil of people. They avoid disdainful words and disrespectful tones about other people's failings (2 Peter 2:9-11). Someday we will have their higher perch, their clearer view, their fulness of light. At that day we will be very glad if we do not have to think back on mortal lives stained with the madness of anger.

This article is an excerpt from Wayne E. Brickey's recent book Inviting Him In: How the Atonement Can Change Your Family.

It Was Claire's Life

Mon, 28 Oct 2002 08:25:00 -0700

by Marianne Jennings
source: MormonLife.com

Mormon Life says: On a seemingly normal February day, the perfect storm arrived. The storm consisted of influenza. A fever, pneumonia, and a wheezing episode- all merged in the lungs of our severely disabled daughter. There are no forecasting methodologies or advance warning systems for such pulmonary disasters, so paramedics broke suburbia's monotony with the lights and sirens of a Code 3 ambulance trip to our home. Being the parent of a medically fragile child means coping with the unnatural reality that your child will likely leave this life before you do. Doctors feel compelled to discuss this defiance of chronological order. I call these Hippocratic insights "The Death Lectures."

The neurologist's death lecture in December was particularly harsh, for it featured a bell curve. "Claire," he explained, "has lived years beyond her life expectancy. You can't expect to have her much longer." Ah, the stuff of dreams. In addition to the death lectures, we've long grappled with what we thought was our selfishness in wanting Claire here with us.

Her life is one filled with indignities, the pain of an uncontrollable seizure disorder, endless medications, and painful stares from outsiders. She had charmed us from the moment of her birth, and we didn't want to lose the anchor of our lives. She has been our touchstone, a check on priorities.

But, feeling that we were her will to live and that- left to her own devices- she would choose to be free from the shackles of a body that has never been whole, we signed a "No Code" order. This is a lawyerly document that forbids use of extraordinary efforts to keep Claire alive. Claire's "No Code" specified: no intubation.

Three of us now battled in that emergency room: Claire, the perfect lung storm, and I. Her heart rate was 230, her temperature hovered near 105, and her oxygen "sats," as the ER crowd says, were at 80 despite the 100% oxygen she was breathing. She was slipping away. A doctor, who seemed to be about 12, told me so.

He gave me an ultimatum, with minutes to decide whether the "No Code" held. I needed a little help with life and death, and tried to reach my husband. The caller ID at home registered the ER phone as "unavailable," and my young son, enamored of telling off telemarketers, was doing what he had been taught to do: Answer, "Please put us on your 'No call' list," and hang up. He did so five times. Home communication lines were down, foiled by hawkers of time-sharing RV resorts and vegetable choppers.

Alone, I cuddled Claire, searching for an answer. Her struggle was a mother's nightmare. The only justification I could muster was that it wasn't right for her to leave us on a Thursday evening! I'm not sure what evening would be right, but Thursdays were out. I needed something to confirm: No "No Codes" on Thursdays.

Then a little tear drifted down Claire's right cheek. She hasn't shed a tear since she was eighteen months old. Fourteen tearless years through unimaginable pain. Now came a tear of sadness. I had my sign and my answer from a child who has never spoken.

I called in the 12-year-old resident and asked if Claire's perfect storm was reversible. His wisdom bellied his young years. "We’ll never know of we don't try."

It was not my decision to make. It was Claire's. Claire's life. Claire's choice. I gave the young doc the American thumbs up, "let's roll." I stood to one corner and watched the intubation. Its very violence made me quiver and doubt. That thin, tiny body with porcelain skin convulsed. That moment still flashes through my mind and I experience the same weak legs and heavy heart I felt then.

But the perfect storm met the perfect response. She battled her way back from the brink. Claire, the outlier, defied the odds. Foolish doctors! She has no bell curve. Claire will live her life on her own terms. She wields power on its length.

As she fought and I sat helplessly by, eventually matching my breaths with those of her respirator, I had an epiphany. Claire's life has meaning and purpose, and she knows it. She brings out the very best in every life she touches. Through her, I saw the compassion and dedication of the doctors, nurses, and therapists at Phoenix Children's Hospital who fought as hard as Claire did. Claire showed me the selflessness of a sister who took over my children for that week. My daily conversations with my parents about Claire had a spirituality I shall cherish forever. Claire allowed me to see my colleagues, who stepped up to cover for me, in a whole new light. From deans to staff, they helped and they cared. Claire showed us neighbors putting out our trash as we coped at the hospital. Claire's teachers, school nurses, school staff, and bus drivers were with us. There were so many prayers for this being, far too tiny for her fifteen years; their power was felt in her hospital room.

Decisions about life and death are not ours to make. They are made by a higher Authority who works for the good of the whole, and who knew the good the whole can show. Yielding to the power and wisdom of that higher source is the humbling lesson of Claire's life. And she knows it. Finally, her mother knows it, too.