To the Rescue

I would like to share some learning from my New Testament class with all of you and weave in some family history stories as well.

   This week we studied in Luke chapter 15.  This is the chapter that has the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son. The first, like the sheep where one leaves the ninety and nine, they just wander off, maybe get out of the habit of activity. Who do we know who has just wandered off?  When a person wanders off, it may be no one’s fault.  They may become lax, like a sheep that isn’t watching where the rest of the herd is.  I remember when we lived in Bedford when the girls were little and we had chicken pox for about 6 weeks straight.  One girl would get chicken pox and then just about the time she was getting better, the next girl would get it and so on.  Because Dad had a calling at church, I think he was in the Elder's Quorum presidency, and felt he couldn't miss, he went to church and I stayed home with the sick ones.  I have been active in the church all my life, but when everyone was better and I could actually go to church after missing for six weeks, I struggled to go back.  I had to force myself to go.  It was a good lesson for me how easily it is to get out of the habit of church attendance.  I also learned that I should never judge another's situation about missing church, but just extend love.

 The next parable the woman loses the coin. This is caused by lack of attention, or maybe by being careless.  Someone may have given offense which causes a member to become less active.  Do we know anyone who may be lost from this type of situation?  She lights a candle.  A lighted candle is often a symbol of being a good example.  She searches diligently. Recently the Biondi's, Paul and Bobbi,  from Post Falls came to visit.  Dad was their home teacher for at least 7 years.  When he first went to their home, they wouldn't let him in, just crack the door open barely enough to say "thanks but we're busy".  Over time they began to open the door wider and then eventually invite him in.  I don't know if Joshua was ever a companion to Dad for the Biondis but John and Jared were.They really appreciated both John and Jared.  We shared some of Jared's mission emails and they so enjoyed those.  Paul's not a member, and Bobbi, or her actual name is Roberta, is less active.  Sometimes Bobbi would come to church with her sister, Barbara, when Barb was in town.  About a year before we moved, Paul needed knee surgery.  Dad offered a blessing and Paul was open and gladly accepted the offer.  His recovery went much more smoothly than the previous knee surgery he had had.  Anyway, Dad was always the lighted candle and diligent home teacher.  A couple of months ago Dad called them to see how they were doing and to invite them to the Star Valley Temple Open House.  They said they might be in the area at the time and would let us know.  Well they came!  Barbara was with them too. Paul said, "You had to move before we would finally come visit you."  They enjoyed the Open House very much.  They lingered and studied the art and the stained glass.  They expressed their admiration and appreciation.  We served them dinner.  It was a marvelous time.  I think Dad and I know how the woman who found the coin felt. Even though they may not all of a sudden come to church, they will never forget the temple.




 




Then there's the story of the prodigal son.  This was a situation where the son willfully chooses to leave the light and truth of his father's home.  Do we know anyone like that?


 I can't think of an example from our family of someone willfully rebelling, but I do know that Dad has taught me much about how to welcome those who have strayed.  The older son in the parable is begrudging his brother's return or as Elder Holland teaches,

Surely, for this father, the pain over a wayward child who had run from home and wallowed with swine is now compounded with the realization that this older, wiser brother, the younger boy’s childhood hero as older brothers always are, is angry that his brother has come home.

No, I correct myself. This son is not so much angry that the other has come home as he is angry that his parents are so happy about it. Feeling unappreciated and perhaps more than a little self-pity, this dutiful son—and he is wonderfully dutiful—forgets for a moment that he has never had to know filth or despair, fear or self-loathing. He forgets for a moment that every calf on the ranch is already his and so are all the robes in the closet and every ring in the drawer. He forgets for a moment that his faithfulness has been and always will be rewarded.

No, he who has virtually everything, and who has in his hardworking, wonderful way earned it, lacks the one thing that might make him the complete man of the Lord he nearly is. He has yet to come to the compassion and mercy, the charitable breadth of vision to see that this is not a rival returning. It is his brother. 

Dad reached out to our neighbor Steve, when I was keeping my distance because of the stories of drugs and alcohol that I had heard.  Dad saw beyond that.  Our relationship with Steve and his brother Fitz, was a blessing to our family.  They shared their garden spot with us.  Fitz knew lots about car repairs.  Steve helped with home repairs.  They both enjoyed working and had generous hearts.  Yes they couldn't overcome their addictions, and poor Fitz died because of it, but we did bring light.  They did work to minimize their use of substances when we were around.  They did listen to the missionaries a few times, and Fitz read the Book of Mormon a couple of times when he was in jail.  Unfortunately after he got out, his girlfriend, ironically a very less active member of the church, encouraged drinking.  He moved from next door and he and Lynette bought a home.  She still loved to drink and he would for her, but it killed him.  Dad spoke at his services, in fact Dad was asked to direct his service.  It's been a little over a year now and I've been in touch with Fitz and Steve's sister, Kim, who herself is a less active member, but trying to come back, about doing temple work for Fitz. The lesson for me is to be like the father, watching a great way off and rejoice when they return, no matter where they've been or what they've done, because we all are sisters and brothers.  Dad already practices this.  I am learning to do so.  Thanks for letting me share with all of you.  I love you!