Spoken Word Messages - Page 54

The holiday season is an excellent time to enjoy our families. Those who nurture strong family roots watch their efforts bear fruit year-round. But the harvest is at its peak during this season—beginning with Thanksgiving and extending through Christmas and New Year's Day.

If we saw a person who could not even hear sounds struggling to be a musician, or a lawyer so shy that he could not bring himself to speak up in the courtroom, or a cripple aspiring to be an Olympic racer, we might be tempted to pity these people and wonder why they didn't choose some profession for which they were better suited. We certainly would not suspect they would succeed, but in these three cases we would be wrong. For we would be looking at Ludwig Van Beethoven creating his immortal Ninth Symphony. Our shy lawyer would one day be the great Indian leader, Mahatma Gandhi, and our crippled runner would be Glen Cunningham who dominated the mile run in the 1940's.

It seems woefully inadequate to set aside only one day out of the entire year for Thanksgiving. We are all recipients of countless blessings, enough to merit the designation of every day as a day of gratitude. The mere fact that we exist in a world of exquisite beauty, a world inhabited by others with whom to share our awareness is sufficient to evoke continuous and sincere appreciation.

The English dramatist, John Webster, observed that, "There is not in nature a thing that makes man so deformed, so beastly, as doth intemperate anger."

Marriage is perhaps the most vital of all the decisions we make in life. It is a union of minds as well as hearts, with far-reaching impact.

All creatures of the earth seem to be born with some natural instinct that makes them recoil from danger. Rabbits tremble, birds keep frantic watch, and even newborn human infants howl if they think they are about to fall. Fear is an alarm system which keeps us from danger and only a fool would never admit to occasionally feeling it. George Washington was quoted after a skirmish in 1754 with the French and Indians as saying that bullets whistling past had a "charming sound." When asked about it years later he said, "If I ever said so, I was young."1 And so, sometimes our youth or inexperience keeps us from knowing the good of a warning fear.

0, would that we had perfect peace. "Peace is a good so great," wrote Augustine, "that...there is no word we hear with such pleasure or find...more thoroughly gratifying."1 Indeed, we believe the hearts of all civilized people yearn for peace.

It seems incomprehensible to those who mourn the death of a loved one that the world keeps turning, that shops are open for business as usual, that newspapers and bills are still delivered, that neighbors and friends continue on their casual way. This is especially true for those who lose a partner in marriage, a companion through long decades of growing and changing. When death takes a spouse, much of our own life also dies, leaving us withered and unwilling to continue. Even with the healing hands of time, some are never able to fully overcome the traumatic and awesome effect of their spouse's passing. Theirs, unfortunately, is a world of pulled window shades and mementos from the past, a world where the present and the future are non-existent.

When we speak to others, we often send subtle messages—with meanings quite different from those we intend. It seems to be a growing problem. People have difficulty communicating with one another.

We live in a busy world. There are so many things to do, so many responsibilities pulling for our attention. Even our technologies do not seem able to make our lives less crowded; as soon as we invent a system to simplify one task, another responsibility moves in to consume whatever time we've saved.

If history can teach us anything, perhaps it is modesty about who we are and what we are. What seems permanent from the vantage of a single life caught in the present is as transient as the wind which erodes a desert city. Institutions and the people who create them burn bright for their moment and then flicker and fail.

"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring," a beautiful work by Bach, is one of the most beloved in the literature of great music. It is so partly for its moving melody, and also because it captures and encompasses a thought and a hope that every human heart warm to the pursuit of joy.

Good emotions are the best prescription for good health that we know of. Emotions can work miracles. There are many examples of individuals who seem to get well, not because of any treatment by their physicians, but because of the effects of their own positive emotions—happiness and the enthusiasm that comes with it, humor with its ability to relieve worry.Good emotions are the best prescription for good health that we know of. Emotions can work miracles. There are many examples of individuals who seem to get well, not because of any treatment by their physicians, but because of the effects of their own positive emotions—happiness and the enthusiasm that comes with it, humor with its ability to relieve worry.

"How beautiful upon the mountains, " wrote Isaiah, "How beautiful are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good."

In a world where most of us are bombarded with thousands of commercial messages each year, we may begin to think the highest purpose for our existence is to consume. After all, we've been reminded of the many ways we can smell sweeter, drive faster, eat more conveniently, relax on newer furniture and save money by spending it now. Some of us have learned to believe what we have is never enough and in an economy where so many pocketbooks are growing thinner, the resulting tension between what we think we need and what we can afford may result in unhappiness.

We recognize many things in life as self-indulgent. A piece of pie when we are on a diet; fifteen minutes extra sleep after the alarm rings; blowing our budget on a vacation; a TV remote control unit so we don't have to move to change the channel.

One of the realities of this life is that everything is not as it appears; or more appropriately, everything is not as we perceive it. We filter what we see through our own imaginations, our own sentiments, through our own values and aspirations. We see, as Paul the Apostle noted, "through a glass darkly,"1 perceiving illusions as reality and at times reality as illusion.

Summer is an ideal season for mental, emotional and spiritual tune-ups. Just as a finely tuned engine needs adjustments to run most efficiently, so do our lives run more efficiently if we take time for needed adjustments and improvements.

The scriptures teach us that we are responsible to love one another, to care for one another, to be brothers and sisters to one another. For, as the Apostle John taught, "He that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?"1

One day as Jesus Christ roamed into a certain village, ten lepers approached him begging to be cleansed. Christ told them to pass in front of the priest and indeed when they did, they were healed. Nine rushed away, jubilant and self-centered, but one returned to the Lord to give thanks. And Jesus said, "Were there not ten cleansed? But where are the nine?"1 It was a plaintive question, typical of a lifetime of being used and then forgotten. But what is most interesting is that though Christ noticed the lepers' lack of appreciation, He did not remove the gift. How many others were healed who hurried off, forgetting the healer? How many beneficiaries of His kindness watched mutely while He was tried and crucified?

Not long ago a group of American college students arrived in an Eastern European city somewhat apprehensive. The country was not known for its political friendliness to America, and in addition, there were representatives from several other countries—some of which also were not particularly friendly to the United States.

The greatness of nations is made up of more than gross national products and technologies. So it is with this country. Behind the corporations, underlying the commerce and trade, supporting the stock markets—greatness is difficult to define, but an ever-present factor.

The pride and faith citizens of the United States of America have in their country is particularly evident at this time of year as flags are unfurled and fireworks puncture the evening skies. It's a time when Americans contemplate their citizenship—a citizenship many people throughout the world would be honored to share.

It is a platitude to say that best things may come from worst circumstances. And like most platitudes, this one is occasionally true. Disease may make us ill, but from that illness may come the immunity which protects us in the future. From what is now a blight may spring our greatest blessing.

One of the greatest messages the Savior taught and exemplified was love. Not only is he lover of our souls—did he love us enough to die for us—but he taught we should love one another. What power there is in that admonishment.

Of all man's questions regarding human existence, the problem of suffering seems to be one of the most perplexing. For some individuals, pain and suffering appears to be punishment from God for sins committed or laws broken. Others see it as an indication that there is no God: for surely, reason these people, an omnipotent God could have organized a universe without the presence of pain and sorrow. And for others, the question remains an unanswered riddle.

At first thought, Christ's injunction to "...let the dead bury their dead,"1 seems somewhat harsh. It may appear especially insensitive at this time of year as Memorial Day bids us to remember departed relatives and friends.

"Sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years. One season following another, laden with happiness and tears..." Those words—full of reminiscence and poignant with meaning—remind us that the years do seem to pass by with great speed. And they have particular meaning during the graduation season—a time when the hearts and minds of students and parents alike are full of memories of the past and hope for the future.

The Savior said, "I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly."1 There is an abundance to righteous living that can be achieved by no other means, a satisfaction and security in knowing the truth and doing it.

A young boy known for behavior problems was pushed from one foster home to another until one family was found who kept him for many years. With this family he became obedient, responsible, and a good student in school. But at last, the day came when even they could keep him no more, and he was to be moved again. On his final day at school, he was rude, destructive, breaking crayons and throwing them, much unlike the boy he had become. By the end of the day his teacher was exasperated, and when she saw him out in the schoolyard digging, she ran to confront him. "What are you doing?" she asked, as he hid a small box behind him. Finally, he showed her. He was doing no wrong. The box was simply full of soil, earth to take with him from the place he'd been happy. He was carrying away a part of the only real home he had ever known.