tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7171008411693865612024-02-20T22:35:01.211-08:00Crane-iumCheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.comBlogger378125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-11349844911059112432022-10-22T06:58:00.003-07:002022-10-22T07:02:43.300-07:00Cancer Should Be a Four-Letter Word<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTbhbiWMBNQmdCGwsv4jUeB_jeWtKEwOQyUtOcNVh3uXwwtpRvQN9RzCUUcaDc7uYQX05mJGb_csUnTymu1m92N5y4QtkjktomC-qBHPfh5bcIpDu1WNyGKJx1XyZ-knpL8imZf3hk3XGnbQ6p38H-ImqUnZdpCMYOAwmvyHFhN9B8QSR54zEtRKGz/s606/35.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="606" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTbhbiWMBNQmdCGwsv4jUeB_jeWtKEwOQyUtOcNVh3uXwwtpRvQN9RzCUUcaDc7uYQX05mJGb_csUnTymu1m92N5y4QtkjktomC-qBHPfh5bcIpDu1WNyGKJx1XyZ-knpL8imZf3hk3XGnbQ6p38H-ImqUnZdpCMYOAwmvyHFhN9B8QSR54zEtRKGz/s320/35.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I’ve
been asked in recent weeks if I will ever write anything again. I
have pondered doing so, but life has been a blur this past year. For
those who don’t know me or my family well, it has been a year of
supreme challenge. Our oldest son was diagnosed with Metastatic
Gastric Cancer, stage 4 in January. He spent 4 months in a Utah
hospital fighting for his life. I spent those 4 months praying,
crying, laughing, and begging for a miracle as I stayed by his side.
It tore my heart out to watch how our son suffered through radiation
treatments, chemo, physical therapy and more tests than I care to
remember. He went from being a strong, active young man, to someone
who couldn’t even lift his arms, let alone walk. The cancer had
morphed, skipping his organs (thank heavens) but it had attacked his
entire skeletal frame. After his first PET scan, we were shown,
highlighted in yellow, how much of his body was affected by this
raging cancer. It went from his shoulders, down his entire spine, and
into both legs. It didn’t help that we were told comforting things
like, “He will likely live 3 months—there is just too much damage
everywhere.” It was a dark time. </span><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I
can’t begin to describe how this mother’s heart shattered
repeatedly as I watched my son suffer through indescribable pain each
day. I will never forget how it felt to hear him scream as he
struggled to survive the week he was in ICU, critically ill. But I
also saw his determination grow each time he was told how limited he
would be. In the beginning, they figured he would never walk again.
We were shown a large electric wheelchair that they assumed would be
the only way he would ever be able to move around. It took four
people to help him move to a gurney that they then wheeled off for
further testing/and/or radiation treatments. When they began talking
about the care he would need when he returned home, I wondered how in
the world we would be able to manage when he required so much help to
move around.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The
radiation treatments worked surprisingly well—his main oncologist
called it “spot-welding.” With each treatment, he regained the
ability to move his arms, and then his legs. By the end of his
hospital stay, he could walk several yards down the hospital hallway
with the use of a walker—something that amazed his doctors and
nurses.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The
chemo treatments made him so sick, but they also helped in the battle
we were facing. Our son was becoming a warrior, courageously fighting
each day for further movement and independence.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He
spent two weeks in a rehabilitation center after he was released from
the hospital. It was during that time that our son really began to
regain the ability to utilize what they called core strength. This
meant he could stand, supported, for a limited time using his hands
to do simple tasks on a table.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After
his release from the rehabilitation center, we were able to bring him
back to his apartment that was ironically, ten minutes away from the
cancer center in Murray. This helped greatly with his continued IV
chemo treatments and further tests. He stayed in this location until
May, when we were able to move him to our home in Idaho. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I’ve
been asked repeatedly how we survived the past few months. It is a
question I’ve pondered as well and I’ve come up with the
following list:</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">1.
Prayer. I’ve never prayed harder in my life. I prayed silently each
day for comfort, guidance, and the strength to endure all that we
were facing. I also felt comforting strength from the prayers of
those who prayed for us. I learned during my own adventure with
cancer in 2020 that there is strength in prayer. I’ve always had a
strong testimony of the importance of prayer, but I learned in 2020
that there is an incredible power in prayer. That testimony was
strengthened even further this past year. Prayer is a lifeline and I
hold fast to it daily.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">2.
Family support. I will be forever grateful for my siblings, and other
family members who sacrificed so much to help us survive this past
year. My husband’s mother had shoulder surgery during our son’s
battle with cancer, and Kennon spent a great deal of time at home,
helping her. In his absence, my siblings took turns staying with me
and helping me deal with difficult days. As I mentioned, our single
son lived in a small apartment ten minutes away from the hospital
which also had a cancer center next door to it. This proved to be
such a blessing, since we could leave the hospital periodically to
rest, knowing we were just a few minutes away if there was an
emergency.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">3.
Recognizing tender mercies. These occurred daily, and I’ll probably
never remember all of them, but each one was a reassurance that we
weren’t alone in this battle. Having our son’s apartment so close
to the hospital was a huge tender mercy. Having so many family
members close by was another tender mercy. And incidents, like the
day my clip came loose from my insulin pump. I didn’t realize it
had happened until one of my siblings dragged me down to the
cafeteria to eat a bite of something. (Let’s just say I didn’t
have much of an appetite during that arduous time.) When I reached
for my insulin pump (I’m a Type 1 diabetic), the clip was no longer
attached. My clothing had help my pump in place. Frantic, I retraced
my steps—that clip was important. I knew I could order a new one,
but it would take several days to arrive. As my sister and I hurried
through the hospital, looking for what was like finding a needle in a
haystack, I silently prayed for help.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I
felt impressed to go into the restroom I had used earlier. I entered
the stall, and felt a strong impression to look through my jeans. I
found the clip, inside one of my pant legs. It was such a relief!
This may seem like a small thing to most people, but to me it was a
huge sign that Someone was watching out for me. This small clip
could’ve been easily lost, but it wasn’t. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">4.
Support from family members and friends. There is no way you can get
through a trial of this magnitude without the loving support of
family and friends. As I’ve already shared, my siblings sacrificed
so much on behalf of our family during this trial. They took turns
staying with me at my son’s apartment, and at the hospital so I
wasn’t facing hard things alone. Kennon came down in between to
help. Our second son did so much to help us sort through all of the
paperwork/financial adventures during all of this. He provided a
crucial service that quite literally saved the day. I also received
so many text messages and phone calls from friends and relatives, it
was overwhelming. But those messages were another lifeline.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Two
close friends checked on my mother for me each week. My mother was
living at the time in an assisted living center near our Idaho home,
but I had been taking her to her appointments, and bringing her out
to our home 2-3 times a week until our son went into the hospital. It
was such a comfort to know that someone was checking weekly on my
mother in my absence. One friend provided weekly Zoom chats for my
mother and me so that she could visit with me almost in person. The
other friend called me on her cell phone during her visits with my
mother so that my mom could talk to me again. Both ladies then spent
time with my mom, so that she didn’t feel like she was alone.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Another
friend who lived in the area near my son’s apartment, brought us
meals, kept in touch, and even invited Kennon & I to join her and
her husband at the Jordan Temple to do sealings one night. This
proved to be a much-needed moment of peace.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And
I can’t begin to thank everyone who donated to a “Go Fund Me,”
account that my brother and his wife opened on behalf of our son. The
outpouring of support was amazing, and very appreciated. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Another
friend was diagnosed with cancer during the time my son was in the
hospital. We kept in close contact as we faced this dreaded disease
together. Her messages were a source of comfort during our own
adventure. We still keep in touch on an almost daily basis as we
continue forward on this difficult journey.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A
favorite aunt went with my husband to help take my mother to an
appointment with her retinologist in Logan, Utah. This same lady also
took my mother to a hair appointment, providing a needed act of
service. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Another
close friend drove down to Murray one day and spent time with me and
my son at the rehab center. She then took me to lunch, and provided a
huge boost to my sagging morale. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I
could go on and on, but I think you get the idea. Letters, cards, and
care packages were sent. People surfaced/stepped forward to help when
we needed them the most, another indication that our Father was very
aware of Kris and me during this fiery trial. I should mention that
several of our son’s friends came to see him at the rehab center,
and at his apartment, and even here at our home. Their visits were
also deeply appreciated. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">5.
Family time. In the beginning, when we were told comforting things
like our son was facing terminal cancer, we drew together as a
family. Our youngest son flew into Utah to be with us during the
first difficult week. This wasn’t easy for him as he was finishing
up his residency in Rapid City, South Dakota. He also drove his
family to Utah after Kris was released from the Rehab Center to his
apartment. By this time, one of my sisters had helped us get a
power-chair for Kris to use to get around in. He could walk on a
limited basis, but needed a way to maneuver when his back gave out.
The powerchair made it possible for him to go to a nearby park for a
family picnic as our family gathered all together for the first time
in nearly 2 years. (Another blessing, this power-chair breaks down
into 4 pieces and fits nicely in our trunk.)</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kris
put together a bucket list of sorts. At the top of this list was the
desire to see the ocean. We made plans in May to make that happen and
in July, our entire clan journeyed to San Diego and spent a week
together in this location. We were able to take Kris to see the ocean
several times that week in varied locations. It was a wonderful time,
and something we will always treasure. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">6.
Keep hope alive. From the beginning, we refused to believe that all
was lost. Even on the darkest night when all seemed to be going
south, as they say, there was still a glimmer of light inside of my
heart that persisted in glowing. I saw that same look of
determination on Kris’ face each time he was told that he needed to
accept what was happening. And as a result, we saw repeated miracles.
The fact that Kris can now walk without his walker in our home is a
miracle. Also, we have far exceeded the three month life-span that he
was initially given. We are currently in month nine. Just saying. And
his last PET scan showed that the tumor in his stomach is gone, as is
the tumor in his lymph-nodes. The cancer was still in his entire
spine, but it was shrinking. As a result of that test, we were told
that Kris stands a really good chance of kicking this disease into
remission.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">7.
Remember that attitude is everything. Someone told me that years ago.
It is still very true. I’ve seen it in my own life with the battles
I have faced compliments of Type 1 diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis,
and cancer. I’ve also seen it play a huge role in my son’s life
this past year as he has bravely faced an overwhelming diagnosis. We
quickly learned to not focus on words like: terminal, stage four, or
impossible. Instead we chose a positive approach, and that has made
all of the difference.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There
are days that are not fun. “Chemo-days,” as we call them. (Kris
is still on oral chemo.) On these days, we strive to focus on upbeat
things, funny comedies, and important items like chocolate or Coke
Zero. We’ve learned to take each day as it comes and to do the best
that we can. And we have learned to be grateful for the small things
in life that we used to take for granted. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In
short, this past year has been a time of heartache, pain, growth,
hope, and love. We have constantly felt peaceful comfort, an
indication that this life serves a purpose. There is a reason for all
things, and we are never as alone as we sometimes think we are. And
no matter what kind of journey we face, it’s important to push
forward and follow the example my mother has set for us: never give
up. We call her the Unsinkable Molly Brown (Molly Brown survived the
Titanic adventure) for a reason. And I would have to say that her
oldest grandson is living up to that legacy. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-58874027104588760082021-09-20T05:43:00.003-07:002021-09-20T05:44:09.816-07:00Never Give Up, Never Surrender<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYHckXi6wBRP1y5RSzeGbwdKRKEbcgfjih64Mb3i_oGkoiqopOQKOjpUjUcFPyzqMq9hXFJ4ojWnrBu2BmkG1Y7_edsVEnUfH6XzyYgricohie52TDzBnf-gtaDx1rn4cWNbRVGWhkHNQ/s275/uphillbest.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYHckXi6wBRP1y5RSzeGbwdKRKEbcgfjih64Mb3i_oGkoiqopOQKOjpUjUcFPyzqMq9hXFJ4ojWnrBu2BmkG1Y7_edsVEnUfH6XzyYgricohie52TDzBnf-gtaDx1rn4cWNbRVGWhkHNQ/s0/uphillbest.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We live in a turbulent time. The
news is filled with stories of destruction and dismay. There have
been a plethora of natural disasters, political upheavals, acts of
violence, and a plaguing illness that has swept the globe. In short,
we are in latter-day mode. Through it all, our prophet has counseled
us on how to survive the trials of this day. If we will heed his
direction, we will be able to push through the days ahead and thrive
as best we can.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In
my own life, it seems as though I have been hit from every direction.
We have lost loved ones, we have faced numerous changes in
circumstances, and physical, spiritual, and emotional challenges have
surfaced in our own lives, and the lives of those we care about.
There are days when it seems as though the only way to move forward
is through overwhelming obstacles. Those are the days when I
sometimes sit on the uphill path and ponder how to accomplish this
seemingly impossible task. I know it’s important to move forward,
and yet, I fear what lies ahead. And as daunting pain penetrates the
very core of my being, it is tempting to curl up in a ball and
whimper that it’s all too much.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But,
there is another part of myself that refuses to give up. It is that
inner moxie that propels me to my feet to begin the process of moving
forward despite the arduous course ahead. I suspect it is a trait
that has been passed down through the generations from those who have
gone before, paving the way before me during other challenging eras.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Years
ago, when my father passed away under horrific circumstances, it also
appeared to be a time when all was lost. It was like an explosion had
gone off in our lives, and yet, somehow, we were expected to continue
on. There were decisions to make—difficult paths to consider, and
limited resources to make it all happen. We felt abandoned, fearful,
and overwhelmed by sorrow. Our hearts were shattered and we were
learning to take life one minute at a time. We bowed our heads under
the weight of it all, and felt surrounded by a peaceful love that is
impossible to put into words. We began to see miracles take place we
couldn’t explain, but as they occurred, we began to see and
understand that we were not as alone as we thought we were. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Some
of those miracles are too sacred to share—but they were vital as we
learned to lean on heaven’s guidance for survival. And slowly, bit
by bit, things fell into place. We were able to move my mother and
siblings into a safe haven in a different state as important healing
began to take place. Doors opened that had been firmly shut—one
example: my brother was able to serve a mission through a generous
donation from friends of my father. Another example: an insurance
policy that was unaffected by my father’s suicide surfaced and
provided the means for my family to move to a college town where
everyone was able to gain an important education. And bit by bit, our
lives were pieced back together. It was in a different fashion than
what we had anticipated, but looking back, we can see the wisdom of
all that transpired. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I
was the oldest, already married, and my husband and I had welcomed a
son into our lives shortly before my father’s untimely death. My
challenges were different, and yet as overwhelming as those faced by
my mother and siblings. I found on the nights that I couldn’t
sleep, it helped to write out everything I was feeling. I spent hours
recording and then shredding painful memories—effectively weeding
out negative items that needed to be removed for me to heal. I was
also led to other things that helped like walking to clear my head,
acts of service that chipped at the inner pain that threatened to
consume me, and messages from heaven that helped me realize I wasn’t
alone in the battle I was facing.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">One
bitter afternoon, I felt impressed to pick up a church magazine. I
was so upset that day that I remember picking up the magazine and
throwing it across the room. It opened to a page I needed to see. On
that page was a poem that touched my heart in a way I still have a
difficult time describing. It is as follows: </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><h1 class="western"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Coins</span></h1><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p1"></a>By Jean Chapin Seifert</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p2"></a>Little one,</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p3"></a>remember when I took</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p4"></a>the five brown pennies</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p5"></a>from your hand,</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p6"></a>and in their place</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p7"></a>I put a gleaming silver dime?</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p8"></a>To my surprise,</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p9"></a>you cried with rage—</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p10"></a>replacing five with one</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p11"></a>could not be fair!</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p12"></a>I smiled, then,</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p13"></a>at childish reckoning …</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p14"></a>until I thought how often</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p15"></a>that our Father takes away</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p16"></a>the copper blessings</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p17"></a>from my hand</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p18"></a>and in their place</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p19"></a>He puts more precious ones.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p20"></a>Yet, angrily, I count myself</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p21"></a>defrauded by the gift.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p22"></a>I have not understood</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a name="p23"></a>Eternal reckoning.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;">That poem would give me the courage to continue on life’s path.
I removed the page, framed it, and placed it on my desk where I could
see it daily. It became an important lifeline as I healed. There were
other messages that surfaced when I need them most—scriptures that
seemed written just for me that brought comfort on difficult days. I
learned that while I communicated with my Father in heaven through
prayer, He often answered my questions through scriptures that
brought comfort and inspiration.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;">I began writing out my story, in a fictionalized account, working
through emotions that were tearing me apart as I typed each word. And
when I was finished, I found I had written my first novel. I called
it, “Still Water Runs Deep,” borrowing a phrase my father had
written in a note he had left for me a year before he died. And that
was the beginning of my writing career. It wasn’t something I had
planned on doing with my life, but that was how it started, and I
felt Heaven’s guidance each step of the way as I tried to write
books I hoped would touch lives in a positive way. In time, my sixth
attempt at writing a novel was accepted for publication, and nine of
my books were published by Covenant Communications. My brother told
me later that when my first book was published, it gave him hope, and
the knowledge that our family was being watched over far more than we
ever realized. As we each found our niche in life, it became apparent
we had all been helped in so many ways. That is why I will never be
able to turn my back to a loving Heavenly Father who has always been
there for me, especially during difficult days.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;">Did the trials come to a halt after what my family had already
endured? The answer would be a resounding, “NO!” As a very wise
friend of mine told me one day as we walked together, the trials
don’t stop until this life is over. And despite what we’ve
already faced, there will be other lessons to learn, growth to be
attained, and faith to be tested. In short, as my paternal
grandmother once told me, this life is a giant classroom, and we
never know when we’re going to get hit with a pop quiz. Words to
live by . . . literally.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-81131318920507628112021-08-21T05:07:00.002-07:002021-08-21T05:08:54.750-07:00Surviving Latter-day Mode<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEraCz5MXFO-1-UwuzSxMIpCqp5a1lVJLdgWz7C_k07_EQtKHL3jBQ2tKKGeAB6jwUllCuFlEfZyS3KaJsd86uaIKoZRv6f-10bs-J_eXXawyr31BnChzdixoJ6ueqgpv2A2TI5G6A7Y/s850/amor+of+God1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="613" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEraCz5MXFO-1-UwuzSxMIpCqp5a1lVJLdgWz7C_k07_EQtKHL3jBQ2tKKGeAB6jwUllCuFlEfZyS3KaJsd86uaIKoZRv6f-10bs-J_eXXawyr31BnChzdixoJ6ueqgpv2A2TI5G6A7Y/s320/amor+of+God1.jpg" width="231" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>Salu!
To state that it has been a while since I’ve written anything would
be a great understatement. Life has been crazy . . . for all of us!
(Yet another understatement!) There has been a plethora of
adventures, good and bad as we daily face the challenge of these
latter days. </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>I
look back over the past few months and marvel over all that has
transpired. Turmoil, tempests, illness, and grief have hit with a
fury throughout the world, and in our own corner of it. In recent
weeks, we have lost loved ones through varying ways. Their passing
has filled my heart with a deep sadness as I have struggled to help
in a limited fashion. In a two week period, my husband and I attended
funerals for 3 friends/relatives. Our hearts are tender, but in quiet
moments, we have felt a comforting peace that keeps us going—it
reminds us that we are not alone in the heart-rending battles taking
place at this time. Heaven has felt close on occasion—an indication
that we have far more help surrounding us than we may ever fully
realize. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>This
past month has been a blur of health issues, mostly for my dear
mother, who is fighting a huge battle with a body that is refusing to
cooperate. One morning I received a phone call letting me know that I
needed to hurry to the ER of our local hospital—my mother (who is
currently residing in an assisted living center) was being rushed
there by an ambulance. As I was led to the room where she was being
helped, she smiled brightly and said, “Well, there’s my kid!”
Her continued perseverance is amazing. And though we are still at a
loss as to why her body is currently acting up big time, she still
smiles and does her best to push through each day.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>Her
example gives me the courage to continue to fight my own health
battles. There are days when I feel as though my spiritual armor has
taken a few nasty blows—leaving behind numerous dents. Those are
the days when I spend time on my knees, begging for relief, peace,
and healing. I often find what I am seeking in a worn out triple
combination that I keep close by.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>I’m
finding that it’s crucial these days to keep in touch with
others—with family members and friends. As someone told me
recently, we need each other. We were never meant to endure these
difficult moments alone. And yet, in many ways, we feel more isolated
now than ever before.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>It
has also saddened me that words like politeness, empathy, and
compassion are being replaced by a hardened self-centeredness as some
feel it’s their duty to force their opinion on everyone else. We
all have the right to our own beliefs—but it is important to
remember that this applies to everyone round us, as well. There is a
need for patience, charity, and faith as never before. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>This
past year, as I have continued to fight a battle with cancer, (I’m
doing well, but I’m still working on regaining my strength—an
ongoing challenge.) I’ve had to take a few precautions. I wear a
mask when it is appropriate and needful. I strive to socially
distance myself from others as I continue to heal. And I’ve had to
learn a simple, two-letter word when I simply don’t have the energy
or ability to tackle whatever I’ve been asked to do. As my family
can witness, in the past, that didn’t happen very often. It has
been a humbling trial—I always have tried to do my part to help
wherever I could. Now my body is letting me know in unsubtle ways
that I need to rethink a few things.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>I
am grateful for those who understand, and give me time and space to
heal. I am also grateful for the courageous example set by our church
leaders. They have pointed the way to safety and peace during this
tumultuous time. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>To
say that we’re all being stretched in a variety of ways would
again, be a gross understatement. As I look around, I can see that
nearly everyone is facing a battle of some kind. We all carry inner
heart wounds that only our Savior and our loving Father in heaven can
see. As such, we need to be kind, as a brave young woman that I know
recently stated in an online post—we need to be considerate of
those around us. We may be having the worst day ever, but we’re not
the only ones enduring trials. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>It
is my hope that in the days ahead, we will pull together to survive
all that is taking place during these turbulent latter days. We
cannot win these overwhelming battles alone. It will take every bit
of strength, courage, and faith that we can muster to push forward
and succeed in becoming the people we are meant to be. </span></span>
</p>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-53501288306099157292021-01-08T05:04:00.002-08:002021-01-08T05:05:47.102-08:00Smiling is My Favorite Exercise<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZL3owIE6viWwbx5UdSuBcj87h9QRYit1mx2EMWJhWH75L6EOp-0GjG2EL1wfa0Qn8gJ3spiesfLx2SsxYhojomwmBZFT5UpFg6xBlePaCSp5fsTCcMQ3CTURWizDo5Hb5zaui7Y0PfMY/s251/funnyface2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="143" data-original-width="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZL3owIE6viWwbx5UdSuBcj87h9QRYit1mx2EMWJhWH75L6EOp-0GjG2EL1wfa0Qn8gJ3spiesfLx2SsxYhojomwmBZFT5UpFg6xBlePaCSp5fsTCcMQ3CTURWizDo5Hb5zaui7Y0PfMY/s0/funnyface2.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>I
found myself wide awake early this morning, and feeling great. This
is an unusual combination, compliments of health issues I have faced
this past year. So you can understand why I also felt a tiny bit
suspicious, figuring there was something I was supposed to do. And
when words started going around inside my noggin, I figured this is
what was going on.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>I
haven’t written a blog post for quite a while. In my defense, life
. . . fatigue . . . holidays . . . did I mention life? So here goes .
. . my first attempt at a blog post in 2021.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>As
this new year approached, I found myself dealing with conflicting
emotions: excitement, apprehension (considering all that took place
this past year) dread, and eager anticipation. I’ve always been a
bit of an optimist. Through the years this has tended to annoy
people. In high school I was accused of being one of those silly
people who smile all the time. Was my life easy then . . . no, it
was not. Did I have reasons to be happy . . . yes and no. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>Light
speed to the current time . . . is my life easy . . . no, it is not.
Do I have reasons to be happy . . . yes and no. So in essence,
nothing has changed, and neither has my tendency to smile even when
things don’t warrant that expression.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>Now,
don’t get me wrong, I frown a bit. We all do. It’s part of the
human experience. Bad days happen. Like that one a couple of days ago
. . . when our nation seemed to be a bit off balance. Just sayin’ .
. .</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>In
my own personal life, I have been enduring a series of nasty
arthritis flares the past couple of weeks. The kind that leaves you
feeling like a walking canker sore. Not my idea of a fun time. And
when I’m in a bit of pain, my blood sugar levels tend to run low.
. . a lot. Go team . . . and Type 1 diabetes. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>The
doctor who has been helping me with my cancer </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>adventure</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>,
is convinced this less than fun </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>escapade
will resurface. We have agreed to disagree on that one. So far I’m
winning.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>Daily
I do my best to help my mother with her varied challenges. Her
eyesight is dimming, and I know if I feel like a walking canker sore,
she is feeling the same x 10. Character building moments, as we call
them. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>I’m
also still doing my best to help my husband deliver our county’s
version of meals on wheels twice a week, and we are still serving as
the housing coordinators for the missionaries who serve in our area.
And while I’m busy helping my mom, </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>my
husband</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>
is helping his, since she recently moved to our valley. So we are
rarely bored. </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>And
maybe that is what is keeping us going. Each day we look at our list
of things to do and attempt to accomplish the most important items. I
think that’s all any of us can do.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>Granted,
we live in a precarious time. I find that I can only stand to watch
the news for a few minutes before turning to my current favorite
show: “Chopped,” on the Food network. I get a kick out of seeing
what these creative cooks come up with using the strange ingredients
they are required to use. In some ways I guess I can relate to that
challenge in my own life. I’ve been given an interesting set of
character building items to make </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>things</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>
entertaining. It’s up to me to </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>determine
</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>what
I do with them. ;)</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>I’m
taking satisfaction in finally regaining some of the strength I lost
this past year. This gives me hope that one of these days when I
cross off my long list of things to do, I might just actually feel
well enough to venture into my new craft room and do something fun.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>I
guess in essence, we are all facing similar adventures. And because
we are all so different, our challenges will vary. But the emotions
are the same. We deal with fear, weakness, irritation, etc. quite a
bit these days. And yet, there are still good things taking place . .
. we just have to look for them. There are reasons why I keep
pictures of my family in a place where I can see them everyday. And
reasons why I also treasure items that close friends have given me.
Their love and faith in me often keep me going on days when all seems
lost.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>All
is never lost. That is something I have learned repeatedly in my
life. Even during the darkest moments when my heart has felt like
shards of glass, there has been a tiny flicker of hope </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>that
has kept me going. It is the knowledge that I am a daughter of God.
Despite everything, I know that He is there, helping me survive the
perilous journeys I am often called upon to make in this life.
Through it all, I am never alone. I also have the guidance of a
beloved Elder Brother who sacrificed so much for me . . . and for all
of us. His example lights the way and gives me something to cling to
when the world seems crazy.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span>So
during these times when we don’t seem to know from day to day what
we will face or endure, know that hope lives on . . . always. Despite
everything, there are still reasons to smile. And someday, when we
find ourselves at the summit of this uphill battle we call life, we
will know that it was all worth it in the end. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-30089681869768982232020-11-12T05:46:00.002-08:002020-11-12T05:46:50.518-08:00Thanksgiving 2020<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27Vgko2GzGXB1id5WlH_DhLbYtvVMl10pssrflb0eA9TN47-gykupHXihbPnSBLQ71mo0To1bwrVVlyf66vbGxDVNHxHDE-0IPO8pxFJqiTqOIcagVCsZM_VV0Zl1vL7_VfXG4fwetjQ/s284/Turkeybest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="177" data-original-width="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27Vgko2GzGXB1id5WlH_DhLbYtvVMl10pssrflb0eA9TN47-gykupHXihbPnSBLQ71mo0To1bwrVVlyf66vbGxDVNHxHDE-0IPO8pxFJqiTqOIcagVCsZM_VV0Zl1vL7_VfXG4fwetjQ/s0/Turkeybest.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">To
say that this year has been interesting, would be a huge
understatement! Our entire world has been affected by events that
we’re still striving to survive. And to me, the past few months
have been a blur of healing, regaining strength, and chaos as life
continuously threw curve-balls our direction.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">And
now, as we approach the holiday season that most of us enjoy and look
forward to, I think we’re all experiencing an exhaustion of epic
proportions. One can only live in flight or fight mode for so long
before feeling drained emotionally, physically, and spiritually.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">As
a huge holiday approaches (Thanksgiving) I’m still finding that I’m
too tired to even contemplate putting up my usual decorations for
this time of year. This is sad to me. I found it sad last month, when
all I seemed to have the energy to tackle was a few half-hearted
Halloween decorations that I managed to set up outside with my
husband’s help.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">The
past few days as I’ve attempted to keep up with my daily list of
activities, responsibilities, etc. I’ve realized that all things
considered, I’m doing remarkably well. Even if there are days when
I feel much like our refrigerator that just died: “I’m done now.”</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">So
I’ve taken a step back and tried to ponder all of the things that
I’m very grateful for. It’s helping me take stock of the things
that really matter as I sort life out in my head and heart.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">I
am grateful for the power of prayer. Even though things this year did
not go according to plan . . . at all . . . I’m still standing
because of prayer. I have survived cancer in the middle of a
world-wide pandemic because of prayer. We have seen miraculous things
take place (see my earlier blog posts for details) because of our
personal prayers, and the prayers of others. Prayer is our lifeline
to our Father in heaven. And currently we need His help . . . a lot.
Prayer is crucial!</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">I
am so thankful for healthcare workers who daily put their lives on
the line for all of us! I saw firsthand this year the huge sacrifice
nurses, doctors, dietitians, and the hospital support staff make on
our behalf. Three of our immediate family members have bravely stood
on the front lines of this horrid battle with the Covid virus, trying
to save lives and make a positive difference in this troubled world.
They wear uncomfortable gear that most of us would balk at on a daily
basis. I only had to wear a similar outfit one day while helping with
last week’s interesting election adventure, and by 7:30 that night
(my shift started at 7:30 that morning) I was so done with wearing
gloves, a face mask with a filter, and a face shield. And that’s
only a small part of the protective gear that our hospital crews have
to endure each day. We owe our healthcare workers a huge standing
ovation for all that they have done to help us survive this pandemic.
And is it really such a hardship that we’ve been asked to wear a
simple mask to help ease their load? </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">This
year has been a reminder of what is important, and what is not. I am
so appreciative of teachers, counselors, and principals who put in
countless hours trying to help kids learn both on and offline. This
is another brave group of people who deserve a standing ovation. We
may never fully realize just how much these courageous souls have
sacrificed to make things work this year. Just as we may never fully
understand how much time parents have put into helping their children
endure this strange year of learning and coping. They also deserve a
huge debt of gratitude for all that they have done! Their creativity
is astounding as they help their offspring survive a time that has
been difficult and taxing.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">We
also owe a huge debt of gratitude to those who work in grocery stores
and other places of business. Daily they face huge risks to their
health status as they help us get the items we need for every day
life. Where would we be without their willingness to bravely face
crowds of people knowing that at any time, they may come in contact
with Covid?</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">I
would also like to give a huge shout out to those who are working
hard to finalize a vaccine that is being developed in a miraculous
fashion to help stifle this Covid virus. I have a sibling who is
among those courageous individuals involved in running tests for this
all-important vaccine. Kudos to all of those who have spent countless
hours researching something that is coming together faster than any
other vaccine ever did. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">I
am grateful for toilet paper . . . and other items we take for
granted until we can’t get it. We have so much in comparison to
other eras—those little things that make life easier. How sad is it
that we don’t fully appreciate what we have until it’s no longer
available? </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">So
this year, my list of items/people that I’m grateful for is very
long. As I count my numerous blessings, it is a reminder that as
draining as this year has been, it could’ve been a lot worse. Yes,
there have been lots of disasters, natural and otherwise, and sadly,
we have lost loved ones along the way, but we have never been alone.
When we stop to ponder all of the challenges we have survived this
past year, it becomes clear that through it all, we had more help
than we realized. I suspect that if we could truly see what is going
on, we would find that we have been surrounded by angels throughout
the past few months. When we have experienced a touch of comfort
here, or a bit of peace there, it has been a reminder that in the
midst of our suffering, our Father and Elder Brother are very aware
of us and all that we are enduring. Hope lives on, and faith will
thrive if we will be charitable to one another and express gratitude
for the tremendous blessings taking place all around us. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: medium;">Someday
we will look back on this time with wonder. Our great-grandkids will
marvel over all that we survived, and hopefully, we can truthfully
state that it was indeed the best of times, and the worst of times,
but we came through with flying colors because we never fully gave in
to despair.</span></p>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-38926799052725129012020-08-13T06:29:00.001-07:002020-08-13T06:30:50.158-07:00Lessons Learned<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBM2kGUFk_96-suYQa14PhY90yCPNG5nyVsWajpDABnLSj_GVn2t8F_BMC0EBEKFwnm5GPmsrpBjBdYRPKVVuN5npU0cMger1w30EzdjURxTGBLSr6VTrRfD_K2iOQLuI4AgW-Ce_qXw/s225/umbrella2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBM2kGUFk_96-suYQa14PhY90yCPNG5nyVsWajpDABnLSj_GVn2t8F_BMC0EBEKFwnm5GPmsrpBjBdYRPKVVuN5npU0cMger1w30EzdjURxTGBLSr6VTrRfD_K2iOQLuI4AgW-Ce_qXw/s0/umbrella2.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">We live in an interesting time.
Understatement of the year . . . decade . . . era! Our lives have
become whirlwinds of challenge, trials, heartache, and change. And
yet, there is hope! Words to live by, literally!</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">This
past year I have battled a fierce opponent that most call cancer. I
will freely admit I may have called it other names, some I won’t
share here, but this challenge has taught me many lessons. And in
light of recent events (ie: life in Covid mode) I feel impressed to
share some of them.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">It
is normal to feel scared. We are human and we deal with a lot of
emotions as a result. Some things are frightening. I believe it is
our responsibility to face those fears and not allow them to control
us. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">On
the morning of my first surgery, one of my nurses made a less than
helpful list. She brought it into my hospital room to share:</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">You
are a Type 1 diabetic.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Yes.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">You
have a form of heart disease.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Yes.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">You
have lupus.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Correct.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">And
a crippling form of rheumatoid arthritis.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">I’m
sure at this point in that particular conversation I was probably
wearing my Scott’s face (</span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">We
Scottish types tend to be stubborn on occasion.) I thought the
following: “And your point is?!!!” But I have been raised to be
polite, so I merely said: “Yes.”</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">And
now you’re facing cancer.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">In
my mind I was thinking something like: “Thank you, Captain
Obvious!” Yes, I have a warped sense of humor. It has helped me
survive many things. But I try to behave, most of the time. That
morning I forced myself to reply:</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">That’s
what my doctors tell me.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">She
merely nodded, made a note in my chart, and said something like:
“Good luck today.” I could tell what she was thinking by the look
on her face: “You’re going to need all the luck in the world.”</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">That
enlightening conversation should’ve scared me spit-less. Instead,
it added to my determination to come through with flying colors . . .
and I did. But I didn’t do it alone. Prayer is huge. I’ve shared
this part with several others, and I feel impressed to share it now—I
was carried by the prayers of others. I literally felt wrapped in
love and peace that day, and on the morning of my second surgery a
week later. </span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">I will be
forever grateful for everyone’s prayers on my behalf—they were
answered in a big time way.</span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">
</span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">So
lesson one: don’t allow fear to control you when life seems to be
spiraling out of control. Process that emotion, but allow hope and
faith to take the driver’s seat when you’re facing trials.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">Lesson
two: prayer is a real force. It’s so important for us to pray for
others when they are facing difficult challenges. </span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">They
will draw tremendous strength from those prayers.</span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">
And we also need to pray for ourselves. It is our link with our
Father, a way for us to communicate with Him and a way for Him to
communicate with us. I’ve heard it said that we communicate with
our Father in heaven through prayer. He communicates with us through
the scriptures. I can’t tell you how many times I have turned to
specific scriptures that contained just the message that I needed
during challenging times. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">I
mentioned faith a moment ago. This is also huge when we’re facing
obstacles in our mortal journey. Someone once told me that attitude
is everything. This would be correct. The morning after my second
surgery, as I was being walked around the Covid-free environment in
the surgery wing of the hospital, I was being myself and making a few
bad puns along the way. Something I said made my nurse laugh and she
said something I needed to hear: “You are going to be okay! Your
attitude will help you survive this challenge.” </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">Lesson
three: No matter what we’re facing, attitude is everything! I’ll
admit, when you are aboard what appears to be a sinking </span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">ship</span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">
(and sometimes, it does seem like the Titanic) </span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">don’t
give up! I believe that is part of our test in this life, to see how
we will respond to challenges, heartaches, or loss of any kind. My
mother is a great example of making lemonade out of lemons. After our
father’s death, she went back to school and became the
valedictorian of her class. </span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">She
worked at a career she loved for many years, supporting us all.</span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">
She kept moving forward, showing us that it is possible to rise above
difficult things to succeed. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">Now,
I’ll admit, it was a crushing blow to me the day I flunked my first
cancer recheck. I had survived two surgeries, and all of the fun that
went with that. I had totally shocked my doctor and nurses by how
early I was talking, and how well I was talking. (I have a type of
oral cancer and a portion of my tongue, etc. was removed.) The day of
my second surgery, my nurse stepped into the room and told me to
merely nod or shake my head in response to her questions. When I
spoke instead, she was stunned, and quickly ran to find my doctor so
that he could see this small miracle for himself. She later told me
that my doctor had written in my chart that it would be a long time
before I would be able to talk. They were all amazed by my ability to
speak. All things considered, I was doing well. And so was the
cancer. It was refusing to leave. Here’s what I learned from that
experience:</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">Lesson
four: there will be setbacks in our lives. Things won’t always work
out the way we envision. And sometimes, this makes no sense to us. I
believe it’s part of the test. If things always worked out, we
wouldn’t appreciate the blessings and miracles that take place all
around us. </span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">We would come
to expect that everything will always go the way we want. Surprise:
it doesn’t. These type of challenges become character building
moments. Stepping stones as we learn to push forward despite the
difficulty of each step.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">It
would take a couple more months of small procedures to get rid of the
lingering cancer cells. These were not fun adventures, but they
worked. Eventually. And I finally got to see my doctor smile about 3
months ago when he shared that I was finally cancer free—for now.
Through this experience I learned that patience truly is a virtue.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">Lesson
Five: Patience means trusting in the Lord’s timing. I think I’ve
been learning this lesson most of my life. Things have rarely
happened when I thought they should. Perhaps you can relate. But when
we’ve done all we can on our part, we must then possess enough
faith to put our hand in God’s and trust that things will
eventually work out. Until then, we endure the storms that pass
through, knowing that one day, the sun will shine again. We will find
reasons to smile, again. And items like Covid, will become memories
that we’ll look back on, not with fondness, but perhaps with an
appreciation for all that we survived with God’s help. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">So
I am now almost 3 months cancer free (yes, I’m hoping for good
results next week!). And yes, it has been quite the journey. I’m
still learning the importance of pacing myself. I am getting stronger
all of the time, but I’ve had to swallow a bit of pride and admit
that I am not 100% yet. Periodically, I have to ask for help. (Yes, I
know, I can’t believe I shared that either. We Scottish types don’t
like asking for help. We are the eternal two-year-olds: “DO IT
MYSELF!” </span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">souls who
struggle with being dependent on others.) I believe that would be
lesson 6: it’s okay to ask for help. I said it, but I’m still
struggling with it. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">Another
thing I’m struggling with: I have to avoid some foods with acid
content like luscious tomatoes that I love, and can’t enjoy right
now. This is sad for me, but I’m dealing with it. Chocolate is
still my friend, so I take comfort in it. I’ve been told that it
may take up to a year for me to be able to eat items that are acidic.
I’ve learned (the hard way) that when I do eat items of that
nature, my tongue reacts very badly. Sigh . . . </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">So
to sum up, life happens! There will always be challenges. We are
living in a time that will no doubt be recorded in history. And if we
look back through history, we will note that there have always been
adventures that test what we’re made of. I suspect that’s part of
why we’re here. On bad days, reflect on what is really important.
Cling to hope, knowing that brighter days are ahead. Learn from the
journey, but keep moving forward, and look for the good. We hear a
lot about the bad things taking place these days, but there are good
things happening, too. Start making a list of those items, and I
think we’ll all be surprised by </span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: medium;">how
many positive blessings are taking place all around. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
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</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-85101402845356728512020-05-13T06:56:00.002-07:002020-05-15T08:06:40.124-07:00Facing the Bridge<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX6lBA-ly7ibMbaazVWfXkYjV0iTWjOisd5xrcJNNNKI96U7gZahNEy9Y_RfeDWPOgvvRlVzqDKphqrWVu1NcIenI_QiNVi77WqZ7y4DgQinVP-JD3KuR0agdw1-rkKAqKEkDuvWzhqx0/s1600/Bridge2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX6lBA-ly7ibMbaazVWfXkYjV0iTWjOisd5xrcJNNNKI96U7gZahNEy9Y_RfeDWPOgvvRlVzqDKphqrWVu1NcIenI_QiNVi77WqZ7y4DgQinVP-JD3KuR0agdw1-rkKAqKEkDuvWzhqx0/s1600/Bridge2.png" /></a></div>
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<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">April 9<sup>th</sup> has stood
out in my mind for a long time. To me, April indicates that spring is
just around the corner. April 9<sup>th</sup> also happens to be the
birth-date of a dear friend of mine, someone I’ve known since high
school. This year April 9<sup>th</sup> took on an entire new meaning.
That date would mark the first of two surgeries that I would need to
keep the dreaded word, cancer, at bay.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Shortly
before April 9</span><sup><span style="font-size: medium;">th</span></sup><span style="font-size: medium;">,
I was diagnosed with a type of oral carcinoma that had settled in my
tongue. Three doctors teased me about discontinuing chewing tobacco,
thinking they were funny. But I guess that is what usually triggers
this sort of thing. In my case, we’re still trying to figure out
</span><span style="font-size: medium;">the culprit</span><span style="font-size: medium;">.
I do have an autoimmune condition (Lupus) which can cause all kinds
of adventures. And a genetic wild card—my paternal grandmother
suffered from a type of oral cancer. Regardless, something I thought
was just an annoying canker sore, morphed into a condition that was
</span><span style="font-size: medium;">alarming</span><span style="font-size: medium;">.
</span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">As
the doctor who would be performing the surgery explained the ins and
outs of what I would be enduring, phrases like: “It may be
difficult to speak.” “You may not be able to swallow for a
while.” or “You may need speech therapy to restore these two
abilities,” haunted me. Until they were in the middle of the actual
surgery, they wouldn’t know how much of my tongue would need to be
removed. So we told family members, friends, and neighbors what was
going on, and asked for their prayers. We weren’t sure what else to
do.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">April
9<sup>th</sup> came all too quickly. My tongue was already sore from
a biopsy that had taken place a few days before. If that was any
indication of what was ahead for me, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go
through with the surgery. And yet I knew my best chance to survive
this ordeal, was to obediently submit to all that lay in store. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">So
on April 9<sup>th</sup>, we arrived in a timely fashion for surgery.
And it wasn’t long before I was whisked away for the procedure.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">As
all of you know, in the middle of all of that, the Covid-19 virus was
rearing its ugly head. Many precautions had to be taken before my
surgery could take place, including a test to ensure that I didn’t
have this disease. When my test came back negative, the surgery was
scheduled.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Kennon
was allowed to be with me on the 9<sup>th</sup>, but he had to remain
in my designated hospital room until I could leave the hospital that
day. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">And
because they didn’t want to keep me in the hospital any longer than
was absolutely necessary because of the Covid risk, I was released to
go home later that same day. In the words of my sons, “Leave it to
Mom to develop cancer during a world-wide pandemic!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">In
many ways, this adventure was like standing near a precipice. Far
below lay a deep, scary canyon. Ahead was a tiny, swaying bridge that
didn’t look very sturdy, and I was being asked to trust it to get me
to the other side. I wasn’t sure I possessed the courage or
stamina to do so. And then I was flooded with peace. I don’t know
how else to describe it, but I knew it was a direct result of the
numerous prayers that had been offered on my behalf. I’ve always
known that prayer is a very real gift—it’s how we communicate
with our Father in heaven. And I’ve known that prayer on behalf of
others works—I’ve seen it before—but never in my life have I
felt as carried as I was the day I had to cross that scary canyon
alone. And yet, I wasn’t alone. I could literally feel the love of
so many, and an assurance that no matter what, all would be well.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">So,
when the time came, and I was wheeled inside the surgical room, I
slipped down from my gurney, and hopped up onto the surgical table,
ready to face what was ahead. Shortly after that, the
anesthesiologist did his job and the lights went out for me.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">When
I came around in recovery, I was relieved to still be in mortal mode.
That is always a big risk for me—since I tend to throw blood clots.
Yet another family gift. But all seemed to be well, aside from being
unable to say much of anything. We were told that they had had to go
deeper into my tongue than they had figured, but they had left my
lymph nodes intact, thinking all was well. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">After
a bit of time, Kennon was permitted to take me home. And then the
adventure truly began. Swallowing was not my friend. I had to really
work to drink liquids, and for a few days, my diet consisted of
mostly Gatorade, water, and milk shakes. Kennon did a fantastic job as my nursemaid, and I owe him big time for all that he did while I was recovering. Our sons and their wives and offspring also did a wonderful job of keeping my spirits up as well as providing answers to the questions we had about the medical world. And I appreciated my siblings who stepped forward to take care of our mother while I recuperated.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"> My ability to talk was
slightly impaired and as I’ve told people, for a couple of days, I
sounded like a combination Julia Child/Cindy Brady. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve
always believed pride is a bad trait to possess, but that is what
propelled me into a determination to improve my new voice. Not only
had the left side of my tongue been carved on, but the stitches went
down into my throat, indicating that a piece of it had been taken as
well. We were just told that they had removed anything that looked
suspicious. And the fact that I now had the worst sore throat of my
life spoke silent volumes about what had taken place during the
surgery. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">It
took me about two days to figure out that if I held my tongue at a
different angle, I could talk quite normally. This took some
practice, and at first, my tongue and I went the rounds over this new
position, but as time went on, it became second nature to me and my
ability to speak improved. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">And
something else took place that boosted my spirits. I currently serve
in the Primary organization of our ward. Daily, we found cards and
artwork created by the children of our ward. Eventually a scrapbook
was dropped off to store all of these creations that are dear to my
heart. I will be forever grateful to the leaders and children who
took part in this endeavor—as well as to all of those who sent
cards, flowers, etc. as we faced a daily battle of pain, healing, and
hope.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">My
doctor soon called with the news that the pathology report revealed
just how deep they had carved into my tongue, and because of that, I
would need a second surgery to remove the lymph nodes in my neck.
Somehow they had seen that at least 2 of them were enlarged,
(possibly compliments of a recent CT scan) and they wanted to make
sure that they had removed all of the cancer cells, fearing that some
had strayed into the lymph nodes. And so, about a week after my first
surgery, I found myself back in Logan for round two. Only this time,
the restrictions in place against the Covid virus prevented my
husband from coming with me into the hospital. He had to leave me
curbside in the hands of a very capable, awesome nurse. Fortunately,
we have family in the area (one of our sons and our daughter-in-law
and their cute kids live fairly close to Logan) so my husband had
somewhere to go while he waited. And this time, they were keeping me
overnight—it would be a long time to just wait in the car. Most of
the businesses in the area were closed—aside from drive-through
restaurants and gas stations. I was relieved that Kennon could just
stay with our kids.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">As
it turned out, I had some of the same surgical nurses that day that
had been part of my tongue adventure. They were stunned by how well I
could already talk. One of the nurses told me that the doctor had
written in my chart that it would be a long time before I would be
able to communicate because of the first surgery. When he was told
that I was talking already, he had to step inside my hospital room to
see for himself. He was impressed. That’s when I reminded him that
I possess stubborn Scotch blood that helps me through adventures like
I was facing. I also had the comfort of a recent priesthood blessing
(I was promised that I would recover quickly from all of this—good
thing—my husband and I are currently serving as service
missionaries/housing coordinators for the missionaries who serve in
our valley), as well as the numerous prayers that were being offered
on my behalf. Once again I felt total peace of heart as I faced
surgery number two.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">I
was told that depending on what they found with this second surgery,
I would possibly need radiation treatments to ensure that the cancer
was gone. The thought of that made me feel a bit sick. As a Type 1
diabetic, I’ve learned that everything affects my blood sugar. It
had already been bouncing a lot compliments of surgery number one. I
was sure it would continue to do so as I healed. Learning that I
might be facing radiation, too, was almost overwhelming. But once
again, my heart filled with peace as I faced this second string
bridge across a daunting canyon.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Surgery
number two went well and I was later told that twenty lymph nodes had
been removed. They had done a quick inspection of the last lymph node
during the surgery and it was cancer free. But it wouldn’t be until
the pathology report came in that we would know if any of the others
contained cancer.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">I
was wheeled back to my room where I received excellent care from a
very compassionate nursing staff. And I need to pay a tribute to
these brave women and men who daily face the Covid virus. Most of my
nurses bore war wounds from wearing protective gear—especially the
masks over their faces. Their noses were nearly raw from this
requirement. My heart went out to them—they are putting their lives
on the line to help others through this trying time. I have two sons
who are also on the front lines of this disease and it is a worry,
and one of those things that I put in the Lord’s hands each day. We
need to be forever grateful to the men and women who are courageously
facing this battle. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">I
did well after my second surgery—it seemed like a piece of cake
after what I had already endured after the first one. I made jokes
with my nurses about various unfunny things, and I was told by one of
them that my positive attitude would get me through all of this. I
should admit that there might have been a time or two when I didn’t
feel so upbeat, but for the most part—I have tried very hard to
keep a positive spin on things. And it has worked, as we saw two
major miracles take place.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">The
first I’ve already shared—I was able to speak quite well in a
matter of days and without speech therapy. I invented my own
therapy—with help from above. The second took place about a week
after the second surgery. I’d had an appointment with my doctor for
a surgery recheck, and removal of an uncomfortable drainage tube.
However, the pathology report hadn’t come in yet. It was hinted
that I would likely face radiation as a precaution. We left that
appointment feeling a tiny bit worried over what lay ahead, so we
headed to our kid’s abode, since “Grandpa” had promised that
this “Grandma” would put in an appearance after she felt better.
It was a much needed break in our routine. And it was while we were
surrounded by family that we received the welcome news that my lymph
nodes had been cancer free and I would not need radiation.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">My
doctor heard all of the cheering in the background from our kids and
grandkids, and possibly myself, and he laughed, telling me that I had
quite the cheerleaders in my life.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">He’s
right—I really do! Thank you to everyone who fasted, prayed or sent
positive thoughts my way throughout this adventure. I continue to do
very well! It has taken me a bit to regain my strength, but that is
improving daily. I know this battle isn’t completely over yet—I
will be making monthly visits to my doctor for at least a year to
make sure the cancer doesn’t return. But I know I’m still here
for a reason, and I plan to make the most of my time in mortal mode. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Having
this adventure in the middle of this world-wide pandemic has helped
me keep things in perspective. I still feel peace—I know that as we
place ourselves in the Lord’s hands, miracles can take place. I
also know that we will be watched over and guided as we face the days
ahead. We aren’t crossing this scary canyon alone—there are those
who are at our side, some unseen, who continue to love us and help us
through this perilous journey we call mortal mode. And someday, we
will reach the other side as we take things step by step across the
bridge of faith. </span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-7637554095976808242020-03-27T04:16:00.002-07:002020-03-27T04:26:50.625-07:00Dispelling the Fearful Fog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQoSOdZafZGbngkEvq5UjywjCSbQXQndlLGi7HdvRyZQ4xz7swtA36dNBX809vekmD3Ntb0K5fB_Bi613piLKYdKIcfXMx5RfXGjwqzwv0v4C_GWw56iamaY0Ahqv4qCg5oK8K6SKEGU/s1600/fog1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQoSOdZafZGbngkEvq5UjywjCSbQXQndlLGi7HdvRyZQ4xz7swtA36dNBX809vekmD3Ntb0K5fB_Bi613piLKYdKIcfXMx5RfXGjwqzwv0v4C_GWw56iamaY0Ahqv4qCg5oK8K6SKEGU/s1600/fog1.png" /></a></div>
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</div>
<br />
<br />
<b>I believe most of you would agree that we live in an interesting time. So much is going on, it’s often difficult to know what to focus on. One emotion that seems rampant during this current world-wide pandemic is fear. I see it on the faces of people I pass in grocery stores as they frantically search for needed items. I see it in the faces of experts on TV who think they know all about the financial world. And I see it in the faces of political leaders who worry about the future.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>For the most part, I feel a sense of peace and a calming comfort. I’ve been asked by some why that is. My mother and I even discussed it a couple of days ago. I suspect it’s due in part because of other events we have survived in our lives—difficult trials that brought us to our knees. Foremost among them would be the tragic suicide death of my father years ago. Our entire world shattered in one day, and everything changed.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>I experienced a similar change when we learned that I was a Type 1 diabetic, and I knew that for me, life would never be the same.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>With the birth of each child, I faced a myriad of health challenges, and during my final pregnancy there were moments when it looked as though my unborn infant son and I might not make it. My blood pressure plummeted in a dangerous fashion, and my husband thought for certain all was lost. When I survived, and our son was later delivered healthy and alive, my doctor cried, held that precious boy out for all to see, and proclaimed his birth a miracle.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>On another dark night, our entire valley experienced a loss of lives that would impact every community in our rural county. Once again hearts were shattered and some of us wondered how we would ever go on. Would we ever smile again and actually mean it?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>I also remember a night that seemed so black, I thought for certain I would never survive. Heartbreaking news tore at my very soul and I silently cried out to our Father in heaven for solace. Solace came in such a dramatic fashion, I’ve never forgotten that experience. For several precious seconds, I felt as though the Savior was right there with me, an image of His loving face was impressed upon me, and the following words were seared into my heart: “Ye shall find comfort in me.” From that moment on, I knew I would be able to endure, and all would eventually be well. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>I could go on and on, but I think I’ve made my point. Each one of us has survived hard things. We are stronger than we think we are. And we are never as alone as we sometimes believe.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>A couple of mornings ago, I had an interesting experience. It was one of those character-building moments that I filed away in my heart, knowing that when I had the time, I would write something about it—it seems to be what I do.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>We had been enduring several wintry storms in our valley, on top of the current health crisis that our world is facing. It wasn’t lifting anyone’s mood, and for those of us with arthritis, we’re beginning to feel like human pretzels. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>On the morning in question, I needed to drive into town, four miles away, to pick up my mother. I am her primary care-taker, and we’ve been understandably trying to keep her safe and well during this Corona Virus scare. As such, my mother keeps a very low profile, but I do bring her out to our house a couple of times a week to give her a break from her apartment, and to help her with things like her laundry. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>As I gazed outside, I wasn’t amused to see that it was a foggy mess. The fog was so thick, we couldn’t see our mailbox that sits across the road from our house. My husband expressed his concern over my plans to drive into town that morning. I felt certain I would be fine and I figured the fog wouldn’t be as thick when I made it down to the main road that led into nearby Montpelier. I was wrong.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>The fog was thick everywhere. I made it safely to the main road, then paused in a state of indecision. I couldn’t tell if anything was coming either way. Highway 30 in our neck of the woods is a major thoroughfare. Truckers use it all the time to transfer goods throughout the area, and to reach other communities. Usually, during foggy conditions, you can see lights coming that reveal trucks or cars are traveling through. But not on that morning. On that morning, the thick fog shrouded everything in a blanket of mist. You couldn’t see headlights until they were nearly on top of you. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>I offered a silent prayer, begging for guidance, for help to find my way safely to my destination. When I opened my eyes, again, all I could see was thick fog. But I felt a calm assurance that I was safe to pull out onto the road. Gathering my courage, I did just that, and I was fine. I didn’t travel as fast as I normally do, because of the limited visibility, and when I reached a road we call the 8th street exit, I signaled, not that anyone could see me, and turned off onto a route I knew was a safer option that morning. This road leads into the heart of Montpelier and I use it quite often when the weather is less than great in our area. It has a slower speed limit, and semi trucks don’t usually use it. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>I continued on my way and gradually the fog began to thin until I could finally see where I was going. This was a vast improvement. By the time I reached Montpelier, the fog was dissipating. At first I wondered why. As I approached the town, the answer became very clear—the sun was making an appearance. As its bright light moved through the clouds, the fog lifted and I could see things very clearly. Breathing a sigh of relief, I drove safely to the apartment complex where my mother currently lives.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>As the sun continued to shine, spreading warmth and light, I was hit with a major analogy. (No groaning—it’s what I do.) We all face dark times in our lives, moments when the fog of fear and despair clouds our sight. Discouragement fills our souls as we struggle to know which way to go. Our faith is truly tested when we struggle to move forward, uncertain of what lies ahead. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Lehi saw this uncertain path in a dream he recorded in the Book of Mormon. This inspired prophet shared that the only way to move forward through the mists of darkness was to cling to the iron rod. Only then could people find their way to the tree of life, or the love of God. (See Nephi 8:19-24; 11:25)</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>I can truly testify that when the need is great, our Savior is right there beside us, helping us to find our way through the mists of darkness that often cloud our path in life. His light can shine through the darkest night when we think all is lost. The warmth of His love cuts through the fog of despair and grief, helping us to find our way. And whenever we feel the need for comfort or guidance, we have but to pray, and to search the scriptures for answers. Those are my “go-tos” as a dear friend calls it, whenever life has been a challenge. </b><br />
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<b>I keep a very worn triple combination close during foggy moments in my life. I have marked so many scriptures on those sacred pages, that it appears the entire book is marked. I have taken it with me when I travel, and it has helped me survive many dark nights. It has a sticker on the front. I placed it there the night my mother nearly passed away in a large hospital in Salt Lake following a major surgery. It simply says: “ER Visitor,” and it is stamped with the date, Sept. 29, 2005. I keep it there as a reminder of yet another trial we endured and survived.</b><br />
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<b>The pages of this book not only contain scriptures that are comforting to me, but also notes of encouragement I have received through the years, as well as tiny artwork treasures made by my grandkids. Someday, it may be a precious keepsake for my posterity. I truly hope it will be. And I hope that during their dark days, my children and grandchildren will pause to reflect on the comfort this book can offer. </b><br />
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<b>We can do hard things! We will survive the days ahead, no matter what they may bring. The Sun will eventually appear and disperse the dark mists of fear that cloud our vision, and we will grow and learn from this experience as we go on, knowing there will be brighter days in store.</b><br />
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Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-46474096181301379842019-11-04T05:49:00.000-08:002019-11-04T07:12:51.337-08:00Falling into Gratitude <div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hi all. So I’m sitting here,
wide awake, still adjusting to the time change, staring at a blank
computer screen. I keep feeling like there’s something I’m
supposed to be sharing in a blog post . . . but I’m not sure what
that is. I guess I’ll ramble for a minute and see what takes shape.
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It
has been an interesting past few months. I’m sure everyone else can
relate. We had a cold, looonng winter, not much of a spring, two
months of summer, and an extremely short fall, and yep, back to
winter. Sigh . . . joys of living in a mountain valley. We usually
enjoy three months of summer, but that was not the case this year. As
I recall, we built a fire for warmth on June 22<sup>nd</sup> for an
outside social, and still froze. It really didn’t start getting
warm until July. So I’m a bit peeved that winter surfaced in our
neck of the woods long before Halloween. Most uncool . . . actually,
it has been very cool, pun intended.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And
is it me, or does time keep picking up speed these days. It seems
like it was just a few weeks ago that we were huddling around a
campfire trying to stay warm the end of June, and now we’re
entering that interesting time of year when most stores, etc. skip
from Halloween to Christmas, jumping over my favorite holiday,
Thanksgiving! </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
love Thanksgiving!!! I love getting together with loved ones, cooking
up a storm, and pondering the blessings that have come into our
lives. So I still stubbornly decorate for Thanksgiving right after
Halloween as my way of protesting. Don’t get me wrong, I love
Christmas, too, but I think it’s sad that Thanksgiving gets lost in
the shuffle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And
this year, despite a myriad of challenges, there are many things that
I am thankful for. I am grateful that for once I was able to grow not
one, but two pumpkins in my short-lived garden, something that has
never happened before. We used to try growing them when our boys were
young, but the plants always froze. This year I cheated and bought
actual plants instead of seeds, figuring it was the only way I would
harvest anything this year with our two month summer. And it worked .
. . after my first plantings all froze and I had to start over. Good
times.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I’m
grateful that my husband and I survived being in charge of not just
one, but three reunions this year. Whew, no wonder the summer was a
bit of a blur. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
appreciated the time we were able to spend with our kids and
grandkids just recently in South Dakota, and throughout the year at
family gatherings, reunions, camping trips, etc. Those are the things
that matter most. My family means everything to me, and I’m hoping
that one day, we will manage to get everyone together at the same
time. Shush . . . one can dream. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
also treasure the time I was able to spend with a dear friend that we
lost not too long ago. I miss her gentle smile, but I will always
remember her courage, positive attitude, and compassion for others as
she faced the tremendous challenge of Lou Gehrig's Disease. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And
I am so grateful for friends who help me maintain my sanity during
these crazy times! You all know who you are and you are all very much
loved and appreciated!!! </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
am grateful for the beautiful world in which we live. True, some
places might seem a bit more scenic than others (this said after
surviving 2 jaunts through the Wyoming desert recently) but even in
the desert, there are wonders to behold.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I’m
thankful our youngest son and his awesome wife survived med school,
and all that that entails. They were able to move to South Dakota for
his residency after his graduation this year, and things are falling
into place. I’m grateful that our others sons currently both have
wonderful opportunities to embrace that will help them achieve the
goals they have with their own chosen careers in dietetics, and cyber
security. All three sons have come in handy with the sage advice they
offer as their father and I blunder through life. And we will be
forever grateful to our wonderful daughters-in-law for all that they
do, and for patiently hanging in there as our sons pursue lofty
goals.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
think I mentioned something about this earlier, but it warrants more
attention: I am beyond grateful for each and every one of my
grandchildren. They are the light of my life! And the plaque one
gifted daughter-in-law made for me that hangs in our living room is
true: “Grandchildren are God’s reward for not killing your
children!” We love the time we get to spend with these precious
gifts from heaven, and look forward to future adventures.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'm also extremely grateful for a husband who is supportive to all of us, and goes out of his way to help everyone around him. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And I need to add how much I appreciate my awesomely talented siblings who have always been there for me. We've walked a difficult path together and it has bonded us in ways we're still figuring out. I'm also grateful for their respective spouses, and their families who all hold a special place in my heart. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Also on my list of blessings are all of my in-laws on my hubby's side of the family tree. They have all played important roles in our lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And
though I may cuss it a lot on occasion, especially during stormy
times when Rheumatoid Arthritis tends to rear its ugly head, I am
still grateful for a body that functions . . . most of the time.
There is the occasional blood sugar glitch compliments of Type 1
diabetes, but I am able to do most of the things that I desire. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I’m
also grateful for the chance I currently have to be my mother’s
primary care-taker. Her health has steadily declined the past couple
of years and there have been some challenges, but her determined
spirit continues to amaze and astound doctors, nurses, and myself.
She experienced a slight stroke in January, and has fought her way
back. She is still living in her own apartment and I check on her
daily to help with varied needs. Her perseverance is a wonderful
example to us all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So
. . . in short, though this year has been filled with challenges, it
has also been filled with wonderful people and experiences. And this
Thanksgiving, as we gather together with precious loved ones, I will
have a lengthy list of blessings to be extremely grateful for. And
I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels that way. ;) [This is a
hint. Start pondering your own list . . . just sayin’--it does make
you feel better about things when life appears to inhale, like early
snow, for instance.]</span></div>
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Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-72726275585008062372019-08-07T09:11:00.001-07:002019-08-07T09:11:53.909-07:00Braving the Trail<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Salu! It has been a
looooonnnngggg time since I composed a blog post. In my defense, life
has been a blur the past few months. Weddings, graduations, reunions
(we were only in charge of 3 this year), camping adventures . . . and
unfortunately, funerals, have occupied our time. In short, we have
not been bored. I’m sure most of you could say the same.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">In
recent days, I have mourned the loss of a dear friend who faced her
Goliath of a health challenge (Lou Gerhrig’s Disease) with courage
and grace. She will be missed greatly by anyone who knew her. And
though our hearts are aching, we are grateful she is no longer
suffering. And we know that someday, we’ll see Deb again. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I
was appreciative that shortly after her passing, I was able to spend
time in the nearby mountains with family members who helped me absorb
the pain in my heart. And on one of our adventures, I was taught an
important lesson that has helped me regain perspective. I’m hoping
to share this now for any who might also need a small boost along
life’s journey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Each
year our family spends time together in the mountains, enjoying each
other’s company and feeling the healing peace that is there. We
usually spend some time looking for fossils. This has become a
fascinating family hobby that we enjoy together. This year we decided
to hike back into the famed trilobite bed that lies up a local
canyon. We have made this journey before and though it is a long, hot
hike in and out, we’ve always found trilobite treasures that take
the sting out of the ordeal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">This
year, we decided instead of walking in on the fairly easy path that
lies out in the hot sun, we would take the other trail that descends
through a forested mountain, thinking the shade would be an easier
way to go. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">My
husband and I rode in on our trusty RZR to where the trail begins
down the mountainside. As we waited for the others who were walking
in the entire way, we did some explorations. My husband selected a
path on the right side, and I chose one on the left, trying to figure
out which one would be better for our grandchildren to use. I hiked
in several yards, then came back to where the RZR was parked to wait
for everyone else. Just a few short minutes later, the rest of our
group showed up, with one exception. Our son had decided to take his
three-year-old in on the lower, hot and dusty trail, figuring it
would be easier for her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">My
husband still hadn’t returned to the RZR. What I didn’t know at
that time was that he had already descended down to the fossil bed
and was waiting for everyone else to arrive. So as the rest of our
bunch decided to head down, I waited by the RZR for Kennon. A few
minutes later, I was very glad that I was there. My five-year-old
granddaughter softly called to me, “Grandma, I need your help.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I
looked up and saw that my granddaughter was on her way to where I
was, looking quite distraught. “Oh, Grandma, I couldn’t keep up.”
Nearly in tears, she was in need of comfort and encouragement. I
assured her that all would be well and that I would help her make
that difficult journey. This granddaughter takes after me somewhat in
the height challenged department and is not very tall. Her short legs
couldn’t keep up with the older kids who had hurried down the
trail. The adults in the lead hadn’t caught on that this young lady
was missing yet, but I knew they would eventually. So, hand in hand,
my tiny granddaughter and I began what proved to be an arduous climb
down that mountain. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I
could quickly see why my granddaughter had panicked. There was a lot
of tree-fall all along that trail. At one point we ran into 4 large
trees that had fallen on top of each other. We had no choice but to
walk down to where the tip of the trees lay on the ground, a place
where we could finally straddle the trees and climb over. I was able
to lift my granddaughter up and over that set of trees, and each
succeeding log or tree that blocked our path. Together we faced
spider webs (we both hate spiders), ants, and places where the trail
seemed to disappear as we carefully made our way down that steep
mountain. When we began to see that we were nearing the ravine where
the fossil bed lies, we began hollering, hoping someone would hear
us. We knew that by now they were aware that two of us were missing
and we wanted to let them know that we were ok. Winded, scratched,
and bruised in places, but fine nevertheless. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually,
my husband heard us. He had come back up to search for us, figuring
we were somewhere along the path. When I assured him that we were ok,
but taking our time on the trail, he went to share the news with
everyone else that all was well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Not
long after that, we emerged above the fossil bed, and made our way to
where everyone else was waiting. It was a joyful reunion as most had
been concerned about the missing five-year-old, and her diabetic
grandmother. We had survived that journey together, realizing that we
had needed each other to make it through.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And
that is the lesson I learned that day. We were never meant to make
life’s often difficult journey alone. We are blessed with family
members and friends who can help us along when the path ahead seems
daunting. We will all face challenges that will stretch us beyond
what we think we can endure—having others at our side helps us to
survive and make it through.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Myself,
I tend to be the eternal two-year-old: “Do it myself!” seems to
be my theme. But I am learning that there are times when it’s too
difficult to do things alone. How grateful I am for those who
willingly wade in after me . . . and for the times when I am given
the opportunity to do so for others. And to me, that’s what life is
all about. </span>
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Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-87542971228672448762019-03-21T05:58:00.002-07:002019-03-21T06:01:37.113-07:00Life-lines<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNdIMmT88SVDuiBp8pVtzqFatY0qog470dJivgu-H-SyLParBXtG0HUC4m1P5D9rIKW9TctHdqeJKyd7x9eX5-bGJkqt_9gpDkpYSvgSkySEi8Q8p74q9GERi6GnVZW65px-_Q6gv3Zs/s1600/stool1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="214" data-original-width="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNdIMmT88SVDuiBp8pVtzqFatY0qog470dJivgu-H-SyLParBXtG0HUC4m1P5D9rIKW9TctHdqeJKyd7x9eX5-bGJkqt_9gpDkpYSvgSkySEi8Q8p74q9GERi6GnVZW65px-_Q6gv3Zs/s1600/stool1.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I know it has been a while since
I last composed a blog post. Life seems to be a blur these days as we
journey from one adventure to another. And everywhere we look, people
are being stretched in a myriad of ways. There are so many trials and
heartaches. The world does indeed seem to be in commotion and our
hearts are being filled with fear, as the scriptures have predicted. </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Despite
all of that, there can be peace. It is found in the small and simple
things we have been repeatedly asked to do. These things are so
simple, we sometimes turn our backs to them, thinking there is no way
we can find solace in what many consider to be old-fashioned
nonsense. Many cling to scientific discoveries or worldly views,
thinking that is where truth will be found. And yet, their hearts are
still filled with a gnawing emptiness as they continue to turn away
from the only source of comfort.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In
this world, we all have to find our own way to comforting peace.
Sadly, we sometimes don’t search for that path until our lives lie
in ruins. When we find ourselves broken, overwhelmed, and
discouraged, that is often when we realize that an important aspect
is missing. </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One
of my grandfathers owned a dairy. He milked cows most of his adult
life. My mother often relates how wonderful it was to walk out to the
milking parlor where her father was sitting on a stool, milking one
of his cows. In her tiny hand was a tin cup. She would hopefully hold
out that cup, knowing her father would fill it for her. In that way,
she gained desired nourishment, comfort, and joy. </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There
are several analogies we can create from that small and simple thing.
The first one that comes to mind is that for my grandfather to be
able to fill his daughter’s empty cup, he had to be steadfast and
solid himself. If he hadn’t been anchored on a strong foundation,
the cup would remain empty, and the life-giving substance would go to
waste. </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So
we begin with the foundation: in this case a sturdy, 3-legged stool.
A 2-legged stool is too wobbly—all three legs are very much needed
for solid balance. To my way of thinking we all are in need of a
sturdy, 3-legged foundation. To survive in today’s crazy world we
need prayer, testimony, and faith. Those are the 3 legs that will
hold us up, despite heart-rending trials. </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
look back over my life and I know that whenever I have faced hard
things, prayer has been a crucial life-line. I have endured numerous
health glitches, some so scary I wondered if I would survive. My
heart has been repeatedly shattered by horrific loss, and yet comfort
has been attained. I have agonized over choices made by loved
ones—but peace descends when I need it most. All of that has come
through sincere prayer. The answers don’t always surface at once,
but every prayer is heard, and eventually answered by a loving Father
in heaven. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There
is an argument that if you can’t see something, it doesn’t exist.
Fortunately, we were blessed with more than one sense. My mother is
losing her eyesight. She depends on her ability to hear, touch, and
smell to orient herself. For her, prayer is a needed lifeline. It has
held her together through countless trials. </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
feel the same way. Prayer has guided my course through life and
provided peace when I’ve needed it most. When we humble ourselves
enough to truly talk to our Father in heaven, amazing things take
place. I have seen too many miracles to ever doubt that prayer is
real. Prayer is one leg of our sure foundation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Testimony
is another crucial leg of our foundation. Without it, we pretty much
are blown about by whatever wind comes into our lives. When we
sincerely crave to know what is true and what this life is all about,
then we seek a genuine knowledge. It comes in a myriad of ways:
experience, education, and what our heart tells us is right. I found
it through savoring the scriptures. It doesn’t come through
skimming through them—but through diligent study . . . and prayer.
One leg helps to hold up another. To achieve the desired balance, we
must rely on each leg of our stool.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The
final leg: faith. We have to believe in what we come to know is
truth. We have to push our way through darkened paths to find light
and joy. It’s not easy. I have found myself broken on life’s
path, overwhelmed by inner pain. I have gazed at the sky and seen
only clouds—it’s easy to forget that beyond them lie the stars. </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
have shared this experience before, but I feel impressed to share it
again: </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>A
few weeks ago, I had been feeling quite discouraged. I think we all
experience times like that in our lives, times when we wonder why
life has to be so challenging. I don't feel that way all of the time,
but for some reason, at that particular instance, despair seemed to
creep into my heart. One night when everyone else in my family had
gone to bed, I wandered outside. Sometimes listening to the night
sounds brings comfort and so I sat on the porch and listened for a
bit. I remember silently praying, asking why I was feeling this way.
The thought came to mind, "There is still beauty in the world."
I agreed, but still wanted to know why things seemed so bleak. I had
been having some challenging health problems and at that time, there
were several trials taking place with some of my extended family
members. As I wondered why everything had to be so hard, I stood and
glanced up at the sky. It was one of those star-filled nights--the
entire sky was lit up with stars. Again the thought came to mind,
"There is still beauty in the world." As I gazed at the
stars, I noticed that clouds were moving in. This is something that
has probably occurred millions of times, but for once, I was watching
as it happened. Within minutes, every star was covered. As I stared
at the sky, I was so amazed by how quickly the clouds had moved in.
Another thought came to mind, "Are the stars still there?"
With that thought came the peace I had been seeking. Other thoughts
came, "Is the Church still true? Does your Heavenly Father love
you? Did your elder Brother lay His life down for you? Are all of
these things true despite the discouragement, despite the challenges,
the heartaches, the pains of life? Are the stars still there?"</b></i></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>The
lesson I was taught that night has been such a comfort. Every time I
start feeling a little down, it comes to mind: "Are the stars
still there?"</b></i></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>To
make a long story short, [I wrote] a song based on that theme . . .
Here are the lyrics:</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Are The Stars Still
There?</span><br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 2.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">By:
Cheri J. Crane</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">1st:</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Dark
were my thoughts--all around were storms of heartache and strife</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">All
those tests that sometimes just go with life</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Mountains
that seemed too steep to climb.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I
walked outside--to clear my head and ask my Father, "Why?"</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">My
inner peace had dissolved for a time</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Where
was the faith that was mine?</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chorus:</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Staring
at the star-filled sky--my heart revealed its inner cry</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Father,
if You're listening help me know the reason why."</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">A
thousand tiny twinkling lights were covered, hidden from my sight</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Grey
clouds veiling light that once had shone so bright.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Darkness
seemed to fill the night as every star was veiled from sight</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Yet
peace crept in my heart and comfort eased the black despair</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">As
the question came, "My child, my child--Are the stars still
there?"</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">2nd:</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Now
when dark thoughts come and some nights seem too long</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I
remember the words of this song</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">When
everything seems to go wrong</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
answer to my prayer--the night I struggled with despair</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
night my Father heard my silent prayer</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And
reminded me the stars are always there.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chorus:</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Our
Father's love is always there--through layers of grief and care</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hope
is shining brightly through the clouds of dark despair</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">A
thousand tiny twinkling lights--though covered, hidden from our sight</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Grey
clouds veiling light that once had shone so bright.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Though
darkness seems to fill the night--And every star is veiled from
sight</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Peace
and love seep through to ease the black despair--</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Remember
the question--"My child, are the stars still there?"</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Faith,
testimony, & prayer—these are the legs for our much-needed
foundation. They are lifelines in today’s’ crazy world. For any
who are struggling through life’s journey, these are the things
that will help us survive. They will help us find a balance that is
crucial. And once we establish our own balance, then we can help fill
the cups that others hold out to us. </span>
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Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-30466173789759715012018-12-19T04:03:00.003-08:002018-12-19T04:03:57.378-08:00Piecing Life Together
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicTizC7_PHjZ2_U0x9elehVU2rqPZ20PAQFXpZbyMFDVlPNI_fFJl3hIVXtHlqFiXhaW23B6ji9a-IGLO8R8FmBELhpwVs5gbVV0rR4KzqmN-j-q5oFerO0KahmQ2WdBxRbHHFFhqbA_s/s1600/puzzle2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="529" data-original-width="800" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicTizC7_PHjZ2_U0x9elehVU2rqPZ20PAQFXpZbyMFDVlPNI_fFJl3hIVXtHlqFiXhaW23B6ji9a-IGLO8R8FmBELhpwVs5gbVV0rR4KzqmN-j-q5oFerO0KahmQ2WdBxRbHHFFhqbA_s/s320/puzzle2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Salu! Yes, I know, it has been a long time since
I’ve attempted to compose a blog post. Life happened, and then happened some
more. Part of the adventures were wonderful, like the birth of our youngest
grandson 3 months ago. Some of the adventures were not so wonderful, and others
tore at our hearts. In short—life picked up speed and dragged me along for the
ride. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I did learn some things along the way: for example,
it’s never good to tuck things away and tamp it all down inside. Yep, I’m one
of those kind of people. Something happens, it rips my heart out, and I tend to
tamp down the pain and move on. I’ve done this so often, you would think that I
would realize that this is a really, really bad plan.</span></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">This tendency always ends in disaster. Instead of
sorting through and dealing with a painful situation, I tuck things away until
the dam finally bursts, and all of those emotions come pouring out despite a valiant
effort to stifle the flood.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Good times.</span></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Actually, it’s not . . . and it has taken me months
to clean up the mess. Thankfully with our Father in heaven’s help, and the
patient encouragement of a close friend, I was able to do just that. I will be
eternally grateful for her willingness to wade in after me. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I tend to be quite independent. My parents told me
that I came that way. I suspect that many of us are the same way. We do our
best to tackle extremely difficult challenges on our own. It’s kind of a pride
thing, which I understand isn’t a great attribute to have. Despite our
stubbornness and determination to handle trials as best we can, the truth is,
we were never meant to walk those difficult pathways alone. We have to learn
that there are times when we need help—whether it’s as simple as praying for
guidance, or accepting a hand that reaches down to pull us back onto the path.</span></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I’ve looked back over the past few months and it has
been a journey of healing. I think Someone decided that I had tamped down the
emotions from a particular trial for far too long, and it was time to lance the
wound. That pain came pouring out like puzzle pieces. I examined each one and
with a friend’s help, was able to piece that picture back together. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">The upside is that I’m feeling peace (for the most
part—this is latter-day mode, after all. There are still a plethora of
adventures taking place everywhere . . . but I digress) and I’m no longer
feeling numb. I’m sure it’s all part of the grieving process we go through when
facing a traumatic challenge. And because we’re all different, we heal at
different times and in different ways. </span></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">For me, I had reached a point where I needed to
clean up my “inner house.” Sadly, it took a tragic loss to break through the
brick wall I had carefully constructed around my heart. But it needed to
happen, and now I feel an inner strength that wasn’t there before. The
scripture: “ . . . because thou has seen thy weakness thou shalt be made strong
. . .” (Ether 12:37) has taken on a whole new meaning for me. So has the
following poem that I composed in 1992:</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Pieces of Life</span></span></b><span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Carefully the pieces are sorted</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Some have edges that are easy to fit</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Others seem cut</span></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-indent: 3in;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">h</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-indent: 3in;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>a<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>z a r</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-indent: 3in;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>p h a<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>d</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">l</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-indent: 4in;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>y</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Making it difficult to discover their destination</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">And yet . . .</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">They are all a part of the final picture</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">There is a purpose for the design</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Patiently you continue</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Until it becomes obvious</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Why the pieces</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Were given their assigned shapes</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">The completed picture testifies of their importance</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Their absence leaves a void unfilled</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Their presence lends a sense of unity</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Stepping back . . .</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">We realize we’re ready</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">For the next challenge— </span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">May we remember the lessons of the one before.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">Cheri J. Crane</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">So the good news is, I’m back. (I guess
we consider that good news.) ;) I’ve learned a lot the past few months and
while it was not my idea of a fun time, I do see the wisdom in taking time to
sort through the pieces of our lives when our mortal journey hits the fan. Life
is so crazy/busy these days that sometimes we don’t realize how important that
process is, especially when we’re dealing with heart wounds. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">One last thought: our Savior truly does
understand the pain we endure in this life. He knows what is the best thing to
help us heal if we will only swallow our pride, and turn to Him. This holiday
season, we tend to reflect more upon His life and all that He willingly did for
us. We give gifts to each other to emulate the gifts given to the Savior upon
His birth. What a wonderful thing if we will strive to give a gift to the
Savior during this Christmas season. Whatever we give is strictly up to us—whether
it’s a pledge to do better—be kinder—more forgiving—etc. I don’t think it
matters as long we do so with real intent and do our best to pay tribute to His
life and His willingness to sacrifice all things on our behalf. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-15567505966475055332018-08-06T04:07:00.000-07:002018-08-06T04:07:01.415-07:00A Time of the Triple T's<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6gnVPnVI830qUhfqVmJqll57vG7XggXJyGlWAE5qDxDvmBd0bR8_RyiHp-cDikVRhTRtn6uhehvwGQMRVdd_M24DumCAR1WKU05_D4Ak4SXkp7HpgX-P1q-HZH4HRyilfBLZcb4w1xM/s1600/MesaFalls2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6gnVPnVI830qUhfqVmJqll57vG7XggXJyGlWAE5qDxDvmBd0bR8_RyiHp-cDikVRhTRtn6uhehvwGQMRVdd_M24DumCAR1WKU05_D4Ak4SXkp7HpgX-P1q-HZH4HRyilfBLZcb4w1xM/s1600/MesaFalls2.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I know . . . it has been a while since I’ve composed
a blog post. I apologize. As with many of you, my life has been a blur for
months. It seems to keep picking up speed, and I find myself hanging on for the
ride. Sometimes by my fingertips, but I am hanging on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I remember hearing a seminary or religion teacher in
college (BYU-Idaho/Ricks) state that in the latter days, life will be so crazy
we won’t have time to dwell on all of the negative things taking place all
around us. In the words of my sons when they were quite young: “Are we there
yet?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am trying to remember that despite all of the
turmoil, tribulation, and trials (Yes, it is a time of the triple T’s) there
are good things taking place, as well. I have tried to pause for a moment each
day to appreciate the beauty that exists in our world. I love nature (as is
evident from some of the pictures I share) and I know this world was created
for us by a loving Father. I’m sure He hopes that during difficult times, we
will take a moment to reflect on how much He loves us, and find peace in His creations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Myself, I am drawn to water. I’m sure that is due in
part to the fact that I grew up around bodies of water. For nearly 9 years we
lived on a small acreage that was across the road from Snake River. There were
times when I would sit on a large rock and watch as the water hurried on its
way. I noticed even then that I experienced a sense of peace as I sat and
reflected on what was taking place in my life at that time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In Ashton, my beloved hometown—the place where I
attended high school—made eternal friendships—and gained a testimony, I found
another place of peace. It’s known to most people as Mesa Falls. It has changed
through the years. A wooden walkway now keeps everyone safe. My mother would
probably cringe to know that on difficult days during my teenhood, I would
often sit on a rock next to where the water plunges down below and ponder life’s
mysteries. It was one of my refuges from the storms of my life at that time. I
would sometimes stick my hand in the water and feel the powerful current as it
pushed forward, despite the obstacles in its path. It gave me hope.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Here in Bear Lake, there are several places where I
can go fill my spiritual bucket when it is beyond empty. I think we all need
places of refuge in our lives, especially when life hits the fan, so to speak.
The mountains, the forest, & obviously: the lake, have all provided peace
when I’ve needed it the most.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Also, I always feel peace inside the temple. It
doesn’t matter which temple—we do have a selection these days. Inside that
sacred sanctuary I can push the world aside with all of its worries and cares,
and take time to ponder what really matters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My home is also a sanctuary of sorts. I love it when
I can find a moment or two to quietly reflect on the challenges currently
taking place. I think private meditation is crucial these days. I keep a
favorite triple combination close at hand for those occasions. The scriptures
have always provided comfort during difficult times, as well as personal
prayer. These items are lifelines on this journey in mortal mode.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I will also be eternally grateful for dear friends
who kindly help me sort through the puzzles life throws our way on occasion. We
were never meant to wander through this life alone. For someone like me who
tends to live by the two-year-old adage: “Do it myself!” it is a humbling
experience to realize that is not always the best thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So, I guess what I’m trying to say is during these
turbulent latter days, it is so important to take the time to fill our
spiritual buckets. Life happens, and to borrow a quote I recently shared during
a talk I had to give in church not long ago: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The arrival of a typhoon is no time to dust off the
gift of the Holy Ghost and figure out how to use it . . . We need the Holy
Spirit as our guide in calm waters so His voice will be unmistakable to us in
the fiercest storm.” (“Take the Holy Spirit as Your Guide,” by Elder Larry Y.
Wilson, May 2018 <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ensign</i>—pg.76)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fierce storms come. I’ve lived through several in my
life—and this current year is no exception. When our hearts are shredded, it is
a difficult thing to find peace—to find the courage to keep putting one foot in
front of the other as we make our way forward, past obstacles that often tear
our hearts out. How grateful I am for the guidance that comes in many forms,
and often from those around us who are walking a similar path.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The key is to never give up. Even on days when all
seems lost. On those days especially, we need to hold on with everything we can
as typhoon strength winds come into our lives. Eventually, those storms will pass
and it is possible to pick up the pieces of our lives and continue on. It takes
time, patience, and faith, but it can be done. And again, bless those who take
the time to help when they see we are struggling. They are often the answer to
our prayers, and instruments in the Lord’s hands when we need it most. And how
wonderful it is, when we can return the favor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-12775524980090087122018-05-08T05:47:00.001-07:002018-05-08T05:47:18.992-07:00Trying to Stay in the Boat<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tU0BAtsqpAoI9J9rAhx5OpzaoybwHkyQPIt-70lSYy16WIJZqZaywAYHhAsuRXpwKwobm9hYqE-mAoMOrvjOFZwmqdA8wUOIapA5moqLwsnKhyphenhyphen28JpOs_yZ_wkxFujk8hUobRh-itis/s1600/boat2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="546" data-original-width="728" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tU0BAtsqpAoI9J9rAhx5OpzaoybwHkyQPIt-70lSYy16WIJZqZaywAYHhAsuRXpwKwobm9hYqE-mAoMOrvjOFZwmqdA8wUOIapA5moqLwsnKhyphenhyphen28JpOs_yZ_wkxFujk8hUobRh-itis/s320/boat2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Greetings. Yes, I know, it has been a while. The
past couple of months have been a blur. Among other things, I have done my best
to adapt to being a seminary substitute teacher. I’m enjoying this opportunity
to link with the valiant youth of our area, but was unprepared for the
exhaustion that seems to go along with this type of teaching. I am also now
serving in the Primary realm, a place that has changed greatly since my last
experience in this territory. It has been 20+ years—time spent in YW, R.S.,
Sunday School, etc. so a bit of adjusting is taking place as I grapple with a
new calling. There is nowhere I would rather be right now, but it is a learning
process. One of these days I will get the hang of sharing time, etc.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">A couple of recent losses have tugged at my
heartstrings, and caused me to ponder items I thought I had safely tucked away.
At one point, the proverbial dam burst and that always takes a while to
rebuild. How grateful I am for those who helped me find the strength to do so.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">We’ve also had some fun family moments that cheer
the heart and renew important bonds. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">In short, life has happened. It’s happening to
everyone. As I look around, I see that most are in the same boat—just paddling
along, facing varied rapids and obstacles before calm water again appears. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Years ago, a fun pastime was to float a nearby
river. We would eagerly bring inner tubes, canoes, and in our case, a bright
orange plastic boat that bobbed about on the flowing water. We usually wore
life jackets as a safety precaution, and loved the excitement of this activity.
We would start at one end of the river, and arrive at the other end in time for
a hot dog fest. It was something we looked forward to each summer during my
teenage years.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Then one day, that fun activity took a twist.
Although the river we floated was fairly calm, there were a few rapids along
the way that added to the thrill. Those rapids always managed to fling a bit of
water inside our boat. Most times we would paddle over to the shore and drain
out the water before continuing along our way. On the day in question, two of my
younger siblings were planning on participating in an annual floating activity
with our ward. As luck would have it, I had to work that day at a local
drive-in, so I wasn’t there for this adventure.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">My brother, and one of his friends, as well as one
of our sisters loaded up inside the hard-to-miss bright orange boat and headed
off down the river. All went well until they reached the rapids. Seeking more
excitement, my brother’s friend steered the boat into a large rock, thinking it
would add to the fun if they bounced off that solid form. I was later told that
though this experience seemed to take place in slow motion, it occurred in a
matter of seconds. My brother and sister, knowing the danger, tried to discourage
this young man from paddling into that rock, but he was a bit stubborn and
though my brother tried to steer away from what he knew to be disaster, his
friend still managed to maneuver the boat into the rock. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Disaster did indeed take place. The boat hit harder
than my brother’s friend intended. It smashed into that rock, and the boat
capsized. I’m not sure any of them were wearing life jackets. My brother said
later that when the boat tipped over and they all plunged into the icy river,
it was all he could do to reach the surface of the river. Then he had a choice
to make: save the paddle, or go after our sister. Luckily, he made the right
decision, and saved our sister. He dove in and helped her reach the surface.
The three of them then hung onto the boat as it bounced wildly along the
rapids, unable to do much about their predicament until they reached calmer
water.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Thankfully, the only loss that day involved the two
paddles. That experience opened everyone’s eyes to how quickly a disaster could
take place, and the wisdom of steering clear of obstacles that could sink the
boat.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">There are obviously a ton of analogies that could be
drawn from that experience. I will only make a couple. We are all floating
along the river of life. We do our best to remain inside our boats, knowing
these are safe places. However, there are times when maybe even despite our best
efforts, we capsize, and then must make decisions regarding survival, and what
to save, and what to let go.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I’ve let some things go the past couple of months,
as I’ve done my best to keep my nose above water. And now that I’m reaching
calmer water, I’m flipping the boat over, emptying the water, and attempting to
climb aboard for the continued journey. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">We’ve been cautioned by our leaders in recent times
to stay inside the boat. That is indeed sound advice, and something I will
strive to do in the days ahead. But it is reassuring to know that if the worst
happens and the boat capsizes, there is always hope. How grateful I am for the
loving support of our Savior who offers safety, peace, and healing, enough to
help us survive the turbulent waters of this mortal existence. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-46672093410172823132018-03-29T05:18:00.002-07:002018-03-29T05:18:32.220-07:00Words Matter (And Feathers Are Messy)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RXVoFRownMvtmqgInh8UDjeBIL71CHZTRNms8l-czJW2mk3ZCH68TbAUVWSTCrDanE5iZbhloGcvrYOg5GtlDyLvApGC9ADK97yXzfMklqLxZ_HNi-gdcJQOj8YG9reRDgBHTlERI68/s1600/bag2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="167" data-original-width="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RXVoFRownMvtmqgInh8UDjeBIL71CHZTRNms8l-czJW2mk3ZCH68TbAUVWSTCrDanE5iZbhloGcvrYOg5GtlDyLvApGC9ADK97yXzfMklqLxZ_HNi-gdcJQOj8YG9reRDgBHTlERI68/s1600/bag2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">There are many critics in today’s world. Some even hold
the esteemed position of being a professional reviewer. These people let us
know what is or isn’t acceptable, delicious, or appealing, whether it’s art,
movies, books, food, etc. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">And in this day and age of social media, most of us
at one time or another have posted a viewpoint concerning something we feel
strongly about. I do this quite often in the form of a blog post. I begin
pondering something that is bothering me, or items on the other end of the
scale that I consider important or worth touting, and before long, I’m typing
away, expressing my opinion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Bottom line, that’s all any critic is doing:
expressing their opinion. I may or may not agree with what is being raked over
the coals, that is my choice. Their opinions are based on their experience or
lack thereof, and so are mine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Here’s what I don’t like: the tendency to believe
whatever is shared, whether it’s a critique of a fancy restaurant, a movie or
book review, or local gossip. What if the restaurant in question is having a
bad day when the critic arrives to sample? What if normally, that restaurant
serves amazing food, but the critic arrives the one time the soup is scorched,
or a waitress trips after working a double-shift and happens to spill
everything on a tray that is in reality, much too heavy for one person to
carry. The headlines the next day read: “Terrible food and service. Avoid this
eatery!” And the damage is done. Because of what one person has said, others
believe the review, and suddenly, a really good restaurant is going out of
business because of an opinion.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">We’ve all heard the analogy of the blind men who are
all trying to describe an elephant. Every person comes up with a different
description, based on the limited experience they have had with the subject
matter. To my way of thinking, this applies to life in general. We all bring
differing opinions and experiences to the table, and then insist that everyone
else needs to believe what we have to say about things. Perhaps instead, we
need to refrain from judging, and look for the good in each situation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">When my mother was a young teen, she was asked to
prepare a talk for church based on the negative effects of gossip. She was
quite close to her father, and one day while they were outside doing chores
(she grew up on a Wyoming ranch) she spoke with him about this talk she had to
give in church that Sunday. He gave her an idea to use as an object lesson, and
she eagerly agreed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">The day for the talk finally arrived. Clutching a paper
bag, my mother stood at the pulpit and declared how harmful gossip could be. She
then opened the paper bag, and shook it out into the chapel. It was full of the
feathers she had gathered that week, and they went everywhere throughout the
large room. She then made a profound analogy, declaring that sharing gossip was
like emptying a bag of feathers into a room—there was no way you could possibly
gather up what had been scattered in all directions. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">It was a very effective object lesson, but my
grandmother was appalled. And my mother spent the rest of the day cleaning up
the feather mess, aided by her father.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I’ve reflected on that story quite often. It usually
makes me smile—my grandfather possessed a great sense of humor, and I’ll bet he
absolutely loved it when my mother released the contents of her paper bag. Even
though it proved to be a messy adventure, an important point was made: when we
share a juicy tidbit that we’ve learned, overheard, misinterpreted, etc. with
someone else, we have no control over how far or wide that tidbit will travel.
And details are usually added along the way that make it even more interesting.
It’s called human nature.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">How wonderful it would be if we refrained from
sharing negative items. There is an argument that criticism makes us strive for
perfection. To my way of thinking, most of the time, criticism actually has the
opposite effect. How many times have we been personally deflated by a negative
opinion? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Years ago, I was asked to perform on a talent show
that featured teens from the area. The problem was, it was to take place the
same night as a high school girls’ basketball game. Since I was a member of
said team, my attendance was mandatory at that event. I figured I could still
make it on time to perform at the talent show, and I agreed to try. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">It ended up being a very intense game and I played
during a goodly portion of it. I quickly showered, changed, and my parents
drove me across town for the talent show. I arrived minutes before I was
supposed to perform. I had been asked to do a song that I had written, and I
accompanied myself on the guitar. The problem was, I was exhausted, out of
breath, and hadn’t had a chance to warm up my vocal chords. I may have also
been a little hoarse from cheering for our team here and there. Just sayin’.
Anyway, when it was time for my number, I walked out onto the stage and did the
best that I could under the circumstances. I knew it wasn’t my finest performance,
but I really tried. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">When the show was over and I picked up my guitar
case to leave, someone I considered to be a good friend marched up to me and
said: “I don’t know why you think you can sing! That was awful!” Then she
whirled around and left. I was crushed. In that moment, I silently vowed that I
would never sing again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Fortunately, one of my YW leaders had also been the
crowd that night. She had overheard the snide remark that had been made, and
she led me to a private corner of the room where we had a little chat. Her
soothing words more than made up for the caustic criticism that had been cast
my way. She made me promise that I would not turn my back on a talent she
encouraged me to pursue, and she pointed out that my so-called friend, was
being critical because of jealousy. This girl also did a bit of singing, and
she had not been asked to perform on that particular show. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I’ve pondered that experience quite often. The
criticism, which may or may not have been deserved, was so devastating—it nearly
discouraged me from ever trying something like that again. It was only because
of the positive comments from my YW leader that I pushed past that very bad
night. And a couple of years later, I was asked to write and perform a song the
night of our high school graduation. During my college years, I was asked to
write and perform songs for various occasions, including the theme song for a
formal dance, a song for the opening assembly that welcomed incoming freshmen,
etc. In short, positive feedback encouraged me to continue forward, developing
a talent that was almost stifled. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Moral of the story: words matter. Use them
carefully. I truly think it’s the bridge builders who make the most difference
in a world that is focused on tearing things down. </span></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-8409312535493011472018-03-23T04:03:00.003-07:002018-03-23T04:03:53.743-07:00Building Blocks<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPVBMVbbsIKa1jQ4qS_883Fzi2msFkITZ_SNYILWWcEQxXHe5SEVcRdf0_tBYG4icu8P0sQ-JRL1wb4Ykpm_6nT8-v_0NsiH1HF_WjwtMMKbaYghtD_S-0aFO-4T6zKI3iOFO5yRnNS6c/s1600/blocks1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="836" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPVBMVbbsIKa1jQ4qS_883Fzi2msFkITZ_SNYILWWcEQxXHe5SEVcRdf0_tBYG4icu8P0sQ-JRL1wb4Ykpm_6nT8-v_0NsiH1HF_WjwtMMKbaYghtD_S-0aFO-4T6zKI3iOFO5yRnNS6c/s320/blocks1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It has been my observation that things of worth begin
with a solid foundation. The great structures of the world demonstrate the
importance of this truth. If the foundation is rock solid, then no matter what
storm may erupt to batter and pummel, this structure remains standing, firm,
solid, undefeated. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As a child, I quickly caught on while playing with
blocks, plastic bricks, etc. that the foundation was the most important part of
whatever it was I was trying to construct. And sometimes, when what I was
building didn’t turn out as planned, it was sometimes necessary to tear things
back down to that foundation and start again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You can probably guess where this particular blog
post is going. Constructing a solid foundation is crucial in this life. It is
necessary to have a strong sense of who we are, why we’re here, and where we’re
going to survive when the storms of life come crashing down upon us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What storms?” some of you may ask. Trust me, they
come. They sometimes come in the form of physical health problems. At times
they surface with the loss of a loved one. Other sources: financial
difficulties, emotional and mental challenges, and in many instances, they appear
at the hands of someone else.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Regardless of how they arrive in our lives, at one
time or another, we will all face trials of some nature. As I’ve mentioned
before in other blog posts, that is part of why we’re here. Tribulations often reveal
what we’re made of. However, it can be a difficult thing to remember that we
each possess a spark of divinity when our hearts are shattered and all seems
lost. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For the record, we are indeed the spirit sons and
daughters of a loving Heavenly Father who wants us to succeed in this mortal
life. He wants us to learn and grow and to appreciate the importance of faith,
hope, and charity. Both He and our Elder Brother, Jesus Christ, understand how
difficult life can be. Both are there for us if we will only trust in Them and
ask Them for help.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I began that arduous journey at the age of 15. At
that time in my life I was questioning everything. Life wasn’t great at home,
compliments of my dad’s deteriorating physical and mental health. It was often
a great challenge for me to attend church meetings because of this. My biggest arguments
with my father were over whether or not I was going to attend church on Sunday,
or mutual on Tuesday nights. Though it wasn’t always easy for me to be there, I
knew I was learning important doctrine that would affect me the rest of my
life. I didn’t realize it at the time, but these teachings became crucial
building blocks for the testimony I would strive to gain later that same year.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Maybe because I had to fight so hard to secure the
testimony that I desired, I have always treasured it. It came during a time
when everything around me seemed to crumble in a painful fashion. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One example: for the first time ever, my father
gathered my siblings and I together for a unique family prayer. My maternal
grandmother was fighting for her life in a far away hospital and things weren’t
looking good. So we knelt together in prayer and my father begged for her life
to be spared. When it wasn’t, he told me that prayers weren’t answered. It was
a painful, confusing time. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shortly after this event, I began my spiritual quest
in earnest. I needed to know for myself what was true, and what was not. I
remember attending a testimony meeting one night (back then, Sacrament meeting
was held on Sunday night) and feeling like my heart was on fire when a girl in
our ward who was a few years older than me, bravely shared her testimony. Her
words ignited a burning desire within me to know for myself the truth of what
she had shared. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It would take months for me to gain this knowledge.
And it required a tremendous effort on my part. When I asked a close friend how
to begin this process, she assured that I would receive the answers I was
seeking if I would sincerely read and study the Book of Mormon, and then pray
about it. I remember thinking, “Could it be that simple?” It wasn’t.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As I have shared before, that year became a year of
challenges. Trials rose before me that threatened my tender heart and physical
well-being. I will just state for the record that the adversary will not stand
idly by when good things are about to take place. He hits below the belt
whenever possible to discourage us and to fill us with doubt and despair.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What I learned through that painful process was that
if we will persevere, and rise above whatever obstacles may come our way, we
can secure the knowledge that we desire.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I will never forget the strong witness that burned
inside my heart the night my testimony finally surfaced. It took place at a
testimony meeting held at a special youth conference in West Yellowstone. The
youth of three stakes had been gathered together for this event. And after my
year of trials that had nearly torn me apart, it provided the healing balm I
desperately needed. A calming peace filled me as I stood and for the first time
in my life, shared what was in my heart. I felt the truthfulness of every word
as I stated that I knew I was a daughter of God, that the gospel of Jesus
Christ was true, that the LDS Church was true, and the Book of Mormon was true.
These items burned within, and later that same night, I was filled with a sense
of supreme joy that I had never experienced before. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Those were my building blocks. I used them to
construct a sense of who I was, why I was here, and where I was going. They
have influenced my life repeatedly and given me hope when all seemed lost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The trials in my life didn’t stop after I gained
that all-important testimony. They have continued in a myriad of different
ways. I call them character-building moments. When they arrive, I still
sometimes throw myself, but when the dust settles, I reflect upon what I know
to be true, and strive to conduct myself accordingly. It isn’t always easy—again,
things of worth never are. But I can testify that it is possible to find peace,
hope, and joy when we push past the pain and allow ourselves to feel what is
true. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-64897576968080773382018-02-07T06:31:00.004-08:002018-02-07T06:31:51.271-08:00Metamorphosis<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Change is part of life. The End. (Shortest blog post
ever.) Kidding. For some reason this morning, that theme seems to be running
through my head. Life is change. If it wasn’t, there would not really be a
reason to exist. In a nutshell, without change, there would be no growth. And
as we all know, that is a big part of why we’re here in mortal mode. (Ponder
Adam & Eve and the Garden of Eden.) We are here to learn, to grow, and to
change. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">That being said . . . change is a hard thing. Again,
consider the plight of Adam and Eve. They start out in a garden where
everything grows without effort. It’s a beautiful place to live and there are
no trials. Every day is the same—eat yummy food that grows like crazy on trees,
plants, etc. Play with the cute animals, who are all tame and well behaved.
Drink water that is pure. Sleep when tired, and start over. There are no
illnesses, no bumps or bruises, it truly is a paradise. And everything stays
the same. Continually. There is no change, no learning, no growth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Enter satan. (I purposely don’t capitalize his
name.) He stirred things up nicely. And suddenly, there was change. And with it
came growth and learning. But it was a hard thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I can’t even imagine how difficult it was for Adam
and Eve who were brave enough to decide that change was good. They went from
having everything handed to them, to growing it all themselves. If they wanted
to eat, drink, or sleep, they had to find a way to make that happen. The
animals were no longer in nice mode. I’m sure that was a factor as well as some
of them developed a real attitude problem. But in way of good news, each day
was different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Light speed to our day. Life is definitely in change
mode—everywhere we look. So that must mean that we’re being given vast opportunities
for growth and learning, right?! The problem is, sometimes I think we get a
little overwhelmed by all of the changes that are taking place. There are days
when we want to hide in a corner and dream of Eden.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Change is hard. I learned that principle at the ripe
age of three when my parents brought home an interesting bundle of joy wrapped
in a blue blanket. The arrival of my little brother shifted my world in an
instant. I don’t remember much about all of that, but I was told that for a
while, I pouted. I went from being an only child to becoming an older sister.
It was an abrupt transformation that took a few months to absorb. But it was
totally worth it! And I will be eternally grateful for the siblings I’ve been
blessed with.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Years ago, I had the pleasure of being the youngest
Primary President our ward had ever seen to that point in time. (This did not
fill hearts with rapture. Most thought the bishop had lost his mind.) We saw a
lot of change during the five years I served in that capacity. Among other
things, I was the last Primary President to serve in the old, white church
house that once existed in our small farming community. I was the first to
serve in the new brick church building that we still use. It was a time of
adjustment, growth, and learning. Times were changing and as my counselors and
I did our best to make decisions that we felt would improve life in Primary
land, we had numerous critics who pointed out that we were changing things . .
. a lot. One of the changes came after an edict arrived from Salt Lake. We were
to do away with the beloved Cub Scout Rodeo, a staple in our ward since the
beginning of time. This did not go over well at all with the local population.
The reason for the change was valid—liability was factored into the decision.
Cub Scouts were getting injured periodically from this activity. So we were to
discontinue this practice immediately, and promote a Cub Scout Carnival in its
place. Can I just say that this announcement went over like a lead balloon?! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Feeling rather frustrated, I penned the following
poem later on:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: black;">Make the Wind a Friend</span></b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“Change, change is not for me!”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Said an oak with dignity.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“Why it’s an outrage to even contemplate</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“Thoughts of change that irritate!”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">And so he thought and said each day,</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Refusing to bend when the wind blew his way.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">A young willow, observing the strain</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Thought the oak was in great pain.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Please, sir, but it
seems to me</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“That you are not a happy tree.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“Perhaps if you would try to bend,</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“The wind could become a treasured friend.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“Offering a breeze when the day is warm . . .”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“I WILL NOT GIVE IN TO THE STORM!”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">The oak tree bellowed with disgust</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Thinking that his rage was just.</span></div>
</div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;"><br clear="all" style="mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Ignoring the willow, he defied the wind</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Never willing to rescind.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">In time, the wind destroyed the tree,</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">A fierce gale turning it into debris.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Pride and fear inhibited the growth that might have been,</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">If the oak had welcomed the wind as his friend.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Cheri J. Crane</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Ironically, I now find myself to be an
oak—with the mindset of a willow. Interesting combination. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the most part, I like change. I know it’s
essential to life, and yet I find myself dragging my feet somewhat when faced
with changes that aren’t very fun. For instance, it’s a difficult thing to
watch your parent age. You want things to go back to when they were active,
enjoying life, and in good health. And yet, somehow you know that particular
ship has sailed. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I absolutely love being a grandmother,
but I find myself worrying over items like the kind of world my grandchildren
are inheriting. I gape at fashions and trends that seem a bit over the top, and
long for the days when leggings were called tights and they were worn under
dresses and such. On the other hand, I seem to recall a time in history when
leggings were all the rage, worn under tunics as swords were strapped to the
side. So I guess it is true, if you wait long enough, different fashion
statements become popular again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Back to the topic at hand: Change! It is
part of life. What we do with it is up to us, part of the agency thing. I do
think it’s important to weigh each decision and ponder whether the change in
question is a good thing for us, if there is a choice in the matter. At times,
though, change is frequently forced upon us without our consent. Trials, health
traumas, or loss arrive without warning, much like the small earthquake we
experienced in our realm the other night. Sometimes things just happen and we
have to decide how we will respond. And that often determines the kind of
person we will become. (No pressure.) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">So I guess what I’m trying to say in a
rambling fashion is that change is part of why we’re here, and though sometimes
that process isn’t very fun, in the long run, it does give us a chance to prove
what we’re made of. (Is this when I drop the mike?) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-87220825362734540852018-01-18T05:47:00.002-08:002018-01-19T04:53:35.732-08:00Speaking of Avalanche Mode<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOahWBnuZZQT8bUbF4qp6XE5jKYgZm_S_M6H-vz02OIymDPZ3R772MI9cpiKIpmjmCBLLonWeD9XuNHT3dXcwlP1HY6OH8g8aVUPlfknPZyVJFp3d3bmvDR_AyIgzJxEoAkvahHe_iY8/s1600/avalanche1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOahWBnuZZQT8bUbF4qp6XE5jKYgZm_S_M6H-vz02OIymDPZ3R772MI9cpiKIpmjmCBLLonWeD9XuNHT3dXcwlP1HY6OH8g8aVUPlfknPZyVJFp3d3bmvDR_AyIgzJxEoAkvahHe_iY8/s1600/avalanche1.png" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">So it has been a while since I’ve written anything.
The holidays happened with gusto . . . and lots of family and fun. Then our
clan was blitzed by the raging flu bug that is unfortunately going around. My
mother was hit very hard by that particular bug. One night she got up, was
extremely dizzy, and began to fall. She tried to stop herself by grabbing onto
a small chest of drawers located in her bathroom, and pulled it on top of
herself. She lay on the bathroom floor for a good 30-40 minutes before she was
able to finally pull her herself out from under all of that.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">My mom lives by herself in a cute apartment not far
from where I dwell, but I had no idea she was in trouble until I called to
check on her the next morning. When she told me what had happened, I knew we
needed to take her in to see a doctor. So my oldest son and I hurried into
town. (We live about 4 miles outside of the local village.) Since it was
January 1<sup>st</sup>, we knew none of the local clinics would be open, so we
took her to ER.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Luckily, Mom hadn’t broken anything, but she was
covered in bumps and bruises. She also tested positive for the flu. She was
placed on Tamiflu, and her doctor (who happened to be on call that day)
insisted that we needed to look into a medical alert system for her to prevent
this kind of situation from happening again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">We were just starting to get on top of things after
all of that, and our ward suffered the loss of two beloved members—in the same
week. Both deaths tore at the heart strings. One was expected, the other was
not. And as luck would have it, my husband and I had been assigned church
cleaning duty the first two weeks of January. Let’s just say we weren’t bored
for those two weeks.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Thus far, the new year has been a bit of a blur. I
haven’t even had time to ponder life-changing resolutions. Free time has been
nil. (This means there hasn’t been any.) Between all of the adventures
mentioned above, plus little things like helping my husband with the local
meals on wheels program available in our area, Cub Scout adventures, etc. I do
my best to swamp out our abode, and keep up with things like laundry, meals, so
on and so forth. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I barely had time to acknowledge and ponder the loss
of our beloved prophet, President Thomas S. Monson. A lot of things have
slipped to the way side, including blog posts. I apologize for that, but am
happy to report that despite everything, I am somehow managing to keep my nose
a bit above the turbulent waters that currently surround us.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">That’s kind of how life is for a lot of us. I’ve
talked to other family members and friends, and though their life adventures
differ, they all appear to be in the same boat. LIFE IS CRAZY!!! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Emphasis on “crazy.”)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I remember years ago hearing a seminary teacher
state that in the latter days, church members will be kept so busy, they won’t
have time to worry about all of the intense events that will be taking place in
the world. At the time, I thought that was rather silly. I have lived to a
point in my life where I take back what I once thought. We are seeing it. We
are living it. It is happening. Just sayin’ . . .</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I am realizing that it is crucial these days to make
the time for items like personal prayer, scripture study, and however we manage
to fill our personal buckets. For me it’s a combination of things, like the two
items I already mentioned, and hot baths, going for a walk with a good friend,
taking pictures, writing, strumming my guitar, etc. I find that life seems to
go better when I can work that stuff in . . . but in light of the crazy times .
. . it doesn’t always happen. And a price is paid. Peace of heart and mind seems
to fade as we flop into Chicken Little mode.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">So we take a step back, take a deep breath, and try
again, knowing we must work in the things that will inspire the peace of heart
and mind that we desperately need these days.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">A writer writes. I’ve heard that saying repeated
countless times . . . but it is true. And sometimes we take a lot of notes.
I’ve been accused of that on family trips, during General Conference season,
etc. So it may not be a surprise to my close family members and friends that I
took a few notes the day our new prophet was announced. The ones that stand out
are as follows:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">“Keep on the covenant path!” President Russell M.
Nelson</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">“The best is yet to come!” President Henry B. Eyring</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">“Maintain faith in the Lord!” President Eyring</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">“Wake, eager to face the day’s adventures!”
President Russell M. Nelson</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">“(The Savior) will guide and bless each one of us!”
President Dallin H. Oaks</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">“Face the future with optimism and joy with faith in
the Lord!” President Russell M. Nelson</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">“See the Church as it really is!” President Henry B.
Eyring<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I took this one to mean that we
need to ignore the small stuff and to quit judging each other!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">It’s looking like our new Church Presidency is
trying to tell us that despite all of the craziness taking place in today’s
world, we need to focus on the good things. We need to shrug off the negative
vibes and actively pursue those items that bring us happiness. It won’t be
easy, things of worth seldom are, but I have decided that despite the avalanche
of life that mowed over the top of us at the beginning of this new year, it
will be possible to find joy. I am determined to make 2018 a year to remember,
one that is filled with positive events and peace. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Only we can change our mind set. Only we can pull
ourselves out from under whatever has fallen on top of us thus far this year,
and be as my mother has been, determined to survive! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">With that said, I realize it will be a challenge. It
will take everything we have to offer and then some to heed the advice from our
church leaders. I am determined to try. And if other avalanches come along in
our lives, let’s help each other dig out! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-50596654496078930962017-12-01T05:56:00.000-08:002017-12-01T06:03:22.350-08:00Speaking of Bionics . . . <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihvRnspRiaqufgTC1v0OxLB3abMA5swWrn6CahkQf-tTmB4AfueBs20Ip4M5zrDTBK5iH5qlLn7tqqaF2cHBIHrPUNAmCBeBia4bCHMJ8R5OohwE33skbxKSDeNa9lXV_2rGg-gungxA/s1600/bionic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="414" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihvRnspRiaqufgTC1v0OxLB3abMA5swWrn6CahkQf-tTmB4AfueBs20Ip4M5zrDTBK5iH5qlLn7tqqaF2cHBIHrPUNAmCBeBia4bCHMJ8R5OohwE33skbxKSDeNa9lXV_2rGg-gungxA/s320/bionic1.jpg" width="264" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am the bionic woman. Seriously. I jest not. At
least that’s what my diabetic specialist is thinking these days. I had an
appointment with him yesterday and to say that he was stunned by some test
results would be putting it mildly. He also seemed a bit overwhelmed and kept
saying things like, “So this is the future.” “What is my role going to be with
all of this?” etc. and so forth. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I understand his confusion. I was feeling similar
items about 3-4 months ago. Back then I was feeling overwhelmed and wondering
what my role was going to be. Long story short, I was given an opportunity to
join a study for a brand new type of insulin pump. As a Type 1 diabetic, I’ve
had my share of experiences with insulin pumps. They have been part of my life
for years. They function as an artificial pancreas and have done a great job of
keeping me alive. Instead of giving 6+ shots a day (for some reason, my body
balked at allowing me to mix long lasting insulin with fast acting, but I
digress) I merely changed an IV site every 3 days and tada, I could program the
pump to punch in needed basal and bolus amounts of insulin. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fast forward to this past year—now it is possible to
allow an insulin pump to figure out how much insulin you need. It’s like
wearing a tiny robot 24/7. It “talks” to me when my levels are getting too high
or too low, and has a tendency to be a little bit of a dictator. Just sayin’. But
the cool thing is, my A1C (diabetic lingo for blood sugar averages—it goes back
over a 3 month period) is now lower than it has ever been. Ever. This is
impressive. This means I’m under better, tighter control and I may be able to
avoid some of the complications that tend to go along with diabetes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve been dealing with this disease since I was 19.
They figure I actually started having problems with it in high school, but we
didn’t realize that symptoms like having chicken legs (a term of endearment
from my mother) always feeling hungry, and drinking water like a camel were
signs that something was amiss. It would take a couple of years in college for
my body to go into total rebellion mode. Things got so far out of whack, I
began passing out in class, and having seizures. I would later learn that those
were symptoms of out of control Type 1 diabetes, something a specialist told us
about when I was finally diagnosed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Unfortunately, most Type 1’s are in rough shape by
the time they are identified. As in my case, big red flags are passed off as
other things. “Cheri is a toothpick with eyes because she’s always on the run.”
“Cheri is constantly running to the potty because she drinks so much water.” “Cheri
is exhausted because she is always on the go . . . literally.” So on and so
forth. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Type 1’s are usually about half starved by the time
the light bulbs click on. Since our bodies don’t digest food properly, in part
because the insulin levels aren’t strong enough to process what we’re eating,
we lose a ton of weight. And while this may fit the current trend in society to
resemble twigs and such, it’s actually not healthy . . . at all. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When it was finally explained that I would be
dealing with diabetes the rest of my life, I was ready to celebrate. Having
been told that I had items like a brain tumor and/or epilepsy while traversing
the diagnosis trail, finally knowing what I was really dealing with was pretty
much a relief. I know this type of reaction isn’t normal, but I never have been
classified as such, so it was typical for me. Instead of throwing myself or
having a meltdown, or screaming that my life was over, I tried instead to learn
everything I could about this new challenge.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Through the years, I have tackled odds that seemed
rather stacked against me, and currently feel like I have done okay with this
particular marathon. I haven’t had perfect control, but I have had good
control. This has permitted me to have 3 healthy children. I still have most of
my body parts, and though I may possess a bit of an attitude when it comes to
life, it is due in part to the fact that I have been fighting for my life for
years. I treasure things like family time, personal space, and the ability to
accomplish important goals. I realize there are no guarantees with this disease
and there are days when I feel like the proverbial last chapter. I did end up
with a little heart glitch a few years ago, but we fixed things and I am trying
to slow down and take better care of myself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Since I am the bionic woman, I do sometimes tend to
take on more than I can handle. So I am striving to remedy that. (You can hear
my children cheering in the background.) I’ve had to pick and choose between
activities that I love and adore, but can no longer keep up with. Perhaps in
time and with the addition of this new amazing super pump, I will be able to
jump back into the fray of life as I once knew it. I know this, I will not go gently into that dark night. When this life is over I will more than likely
throw down a very worn out body with a grin on my face that says it all: “I
truly lived!” And now, back to showing this new pump who is the actual boss!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<![endif]-->Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-14121784828949552842017-11-07T05:46:00.000-08:002017-11-07T05:46:03.682-08:00The Time has Come to Talk . . . of Wibbies & Icebergs<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoPPiu-pB0dLtVFmtB6Z_Hpgddu6neWIv-rSLwTc1DXxe4ZjIKR3n799vhCLpUub0y6G3MIUD920YSSJOaefOSJ-OFGIm6Gnf-BM4VCacLzzJ0vMWz2UWVrLOG5It6Ku2TmY6jyzD-Sg/s1600/iceberg1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="252" data-original-width="400" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoPPiu-pB0dLtVFmtB6Z_Hpgddu6neWIv-rSLwTc1DXxe4ZjIKR3n799vhCLpUub0y6G3MIUD920YSSJOaefOSJ-OFGIm6Gnf-BM4VCacLzzJ0vMWz2UWVrLOG5It6Ku2TmY6jyzD-Sg/s320/iceberg1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I’ve noticed a tendency in my life—when I’m facing
overwhelming trials, I avoid keeping a journal. For example, during the two
years following my father’s death, there is no record of how I survived.
Looking back, I now wish I would’ve made an attempt at keeping even a small
journal. However, there are other things that I did write: poetry, songs, and
my first attempt at writing a novel. Those pages contain snippets of how I was
feeling and items that helped me endure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">I found that on the nights I couldn’t sleep, it
helped to write out everything I was feeling. Then I would shred those pages
and throw it all away. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I was doing my
own form of therapy following an extremely traumatic episode in my life. I was,
in essence, getting rid of toxic emotions that were tearing me apart following
Dad’s suicide. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">It worked! Writing has always been an outlet for me.
I feel a sense of calming peace when I write. And I feel like I have been
guided somewhat on what to write, after I get rid of “the wibbies.” (A family
term that means something scary.) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">This past year has been filled with “wibbies.” Lots
of change, serious illness, parental decline, earthquakes, weird weather, and
heartrending trials within our family. And we won’t even go into the daily
tragedies we have witnessed on the news. There are days when I feel like I’ve
been strapped to the front of the Titanic just as it hit the iceberg. But there
have also been numerous tender mercies that have kept us all going. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Probably one of the most challenging items I’ve dealt
with this past year was my mother’s serious illness the end of April. For some
strange reason that we’re still trying to figure out, her electrolytes
plummeted dangerously low. Her condition mimicked a stroke. She went from being
a fairly vibrant character, to someone who couldn’t walk or talk. We have spent
months helping her regain a sense of self, and to relearn skills most of us
take for granted, like using a TV remote, or telephone. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">My mother has always been a fighter, and she has,
for the most part, bounced back from this year’s challenging “wibbie.” Since I’m
the offspring that lives the closest, (I only live 4 miles away) I’ve been the
one to primarily help Mom through this adventure. My siblings all rallied when
everything hit the fan, but eventually, they had to return to their own
adventures at their respective homes. Shortly after Mom was released from the
hospital, she came to stay with Kennon and I for a few weeks until we felt like
she could return to her apartment, with some assistance. I’ve made countless
trips from our abode to Mom’s apartment on an almost daily basis the past few
months to help in any way that I could. And it has worked! She is now pretty
much back to her independent self—with just a glitch here and there. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">So the past few months have been a bit of a blur—and
there were other character building moments going on at the same time—enough that
most of us have felt like we’ve faced one continuous emotional tsunami. Can I
just say that 2017 will not be one of my favorite years? And, true to form, I
have not kept a record . . . at all. There is no new poetry, no new songs—but there
are a handful of blog posts, and (drumroll please) two new manuscripts that I
have tinkered with inbetween all of the fun. We’ll see what happens with that.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">The thing I have noticed in my life—there does seem
to be a plan. Even when life becomes complicated and my heart feels shredded—the
pieces begin to fit together to form a picture I would have never guessed
existed. I surmise this is where faith comes into play. I’ll admit, when one is
strapped to the front of the Titanic and an iceberg is imminent, it’s a little bit
difficult to believe that somehow, things will be okay. The “wibbies” fill us
with fear and doubt becomes a real adversary. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">There is a scene in one of the “Raiders of the Lost Ark”
movies where the main character is frozen in place. He is inside of a cavern
and the item he is seeking lies across an impressive gorge. As he is thinking
there is no way possible for him to cross to where this item exists, he is told
that he must have faith—he must believe there is a way to accomplish this task.
Eventually he gathers his courage and takes a step into what appears to be thin
air. And as those of you know who have seen this movie, there is a sturdy path
that only becomes visible after you take that first important step. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">That image has come to mind a lot this past year. I’ve
found myself facing a few impressive “wibbies,” and it has been scary to take
that step into what appears to be “air.” What I have found . . . again . . . is
that there is a path through daunting obstacles. Faith is crucial to possess
these days, and it truly is the simple things that give us the strength to
carry on: prayer, searching the scriptures, meditating on what really matters,
and taking care of our physical selves. (Yes, I actually said that last item. I’m
not always a good example of that, but I’m striving to do better. Sleep is
starting to become my friend again, exercise is important, and thanks to this
new impressive insulin pump, my blood sugar levels are even better than before.
Now to kick the pop habit . . .)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Back to my original topic: I may not have kept a
journal this past year, but I have kept journals during other adventures in my
life. There are enough of those that my posterity will ponder what to do with
all of those volumes. I’m sure some of it will be discarded as silliness. But
hopefully in some of what I have written, there will be snippets that will make
sense and possibly even help when they are facing a difficult time. And when
there appears to be a gap or two, I hope they’ll understand that there have
been moments that were too difficult to record. Those are the times when they
may have to search some of my poetry, songs, blog posts, and books to read
between the lines and understand the lessons I learned when “wibbies” surfaced
and icebergs seemed too close. </span></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-68902757523196521082017-10-31T04:22:00.002-07:002017-10-31T04:22:26.572-07:00Are We "As" the Army of Helaman?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbdYk4-EbsyelBnhNBdZDhyphenhyphenfU43Xqu5E-_zA3O7KdFJObE_McZLbRJGStFp3a2dkOhyUm-eQZSJHfswEzLxK8OGU2yegt3YffgqoNVY54W05-kfC52ScojOYhCewJYqOG8M41HwvfziQ/s1600/stripling2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="573" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbdYk4-EbsyelBnhNBdZDhyphenhyphenfU43Xqu5E-_zA3O7KdFJObE_McZLbRJGStFp3a2dkOhyUm-eQZSJHfswEzLxK8OGU2yegt3YffgqoNVY54W05-kfC52ScojOYhCewJYqOG8M41HwvfziQ/s320/stripling2.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve shared some fairly personal things in my last
two blog posts. That was for a reason. There are some people that I know and
love who are really struggling right now with their testimonies. It occurred to
me that they may not know why I believe the way that I do. They don’t
understand what I went through to gain the testimony that I treasure. So I
shared some of the experiences that shaped me into who I am today. These are
pieces of my life that helped me realize that God is real and that He does
answer prayers, although not always in the way we envision. He helps us through
difficult times, though not always in the manner we wish. And I have found it
is because of trials that we grow—if we so choose. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I think often of the stripling warriors, when I’m
facing something that isn’t very fun. These 2,000 young men faced overwhelming
odds fighting for something they believed with their entire hearts. (See Alma
53, 56, & 58—yes, I mean the entire chapters.) They relied on teachings
from their parents, and the example set by them, plus their own beliefs to
become the strong force that helped turn the tide in important battles. They
fought bravely to maintain the things they treasured most—freedom to worship as
they desired, and to protect their loved ones, and those who dwelled alongside
them.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I mentioned a key point—they not only relied on the
example and teachings of their parents, but they found out what was true for
themselves. I learned long ago that we can’t lean on the testimonies of others.
We have to find out for ourselves what is good and true. I had worked so hard
to gain my own testimony while in high school, that it became one of my
treasured possessions. I wrongly assumed that others felt the same way. It wasn’t
until I went to college and saw those I knew from active LDS homes make some
terrible mistakes once they were “on their own” that I realized the importance
of having your own testimony. If you don’t understand for yourself what is
truly important, when you hit important crossroads in your life, it’s difficult
to know which way is the correct path. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Back to the Stripling Warriors: the following
scripture is one of my favorites with regard to this courageous army: “<i>But
behold, they have received wounds; nevertheless they stand fast in that liberty
wherewith God has made them free; and they are strict to remember the Lord
their God from day to day; yea, they do observe to keep his statutes, and his judgments,
and his commandments continually; and their faith is strong . . .” (</i>Alma 58:40)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The stripling warriors earned their testimonies
through experiences that strengthened them and helped them to know for
themselves what was true. And once they gained that testimony, they
accomplished what others deemed impossible.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We’ve been asked in recent times by our prophet and
his apostles, to read the Book of Mormon frequently. We’ve been promised the
strength we need to face the challenges of our day if we will do so. I testify
that this book of scripture is sacred and it was preserved for us. Our Father
in heaven knew we would desperately need the teachings it contains to survive
all that would take place in our time. This book of scripture has helped me
endure countless trials. It was where I drew my strength when I was facing some
pretty intense trials during my teenage years. It continues to be a source of
comfort and peace during those I face now.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We are all here on earth to grow and learn. And
because we’re all different, we all learn in varying ways and times. What works
for one person, will not work for someone else. One thing remains constant—the fact
that our Father in heaven loves us and is there for us whenever we remember to
turn to Him. We all make mistakes and we often learn the most from those
mistakes. (I still have a face, even though I did my best to burn it off—see last
week’s blog post to understand that comment.) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is always a way back to where we need to
be, if we’ll humble ourselves enough to seek a better path. We’re all in this
journey together, and together, we can keep pushing forward toward a time when
things will make sense and we can understand we were more watched over than we
ever imagined possible.</span></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-15496356957625510772017-10-23T04:17:00.001-07:002017-10-23T04:26:21.845-07:00Saving Face--Literally<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaafHT4Odofu2tcOz0XzuuymHDnOGzH-CSfNPQt5q1K6eNsBJ6__z5pNvsvdafpIW_-jALx4o9DHl3HBxXTWYS49IQxs5utQv2fpk-hH-3RuZbRhmn8EZsgqqdtf8uBLzqnFh_UhWw7HU/s1600/chef2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaafHT4Odofu2tcOz0XzuuymHDnOGzH-CSfNPQt5q1K6eNsBJ6__z5pNvsvdafpIW_-jALx4o9DHl3HBxXTWYS49IQxs5utQv2fpk-hH-3RuZbRhmn8EZsgqqdtf8uBLzqnFh_UhWw7HU/s1600/chef2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Saving
Face (Quite Literally)</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So if any of you read last week’s epistle, you know
that I went through quite an adventure my sophomore year of high school. What I
didn’t mention was that was the year I was trying to gain my own testimony of
the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It was one of the most
difficult years of my life! My maternal grandmother died, someone I’m named
after—and I was her oldest granddaughter. I always felt like there was a
special bond between us. And despite everything—medical attempts, prayers, etc.
she passed away. This loss shredded my heart. Shortly after that, one of my
best friends was diagnosed with an aggressive form of Lupus (after I watched
what she went through, you can understand why it hit me pretty hard when I was
diagnosed with this same disease in 1997, but I digress). The Lupus attacked my
friend’s kidneys right off the bat, and she spent several months in a hospital
in Salt Lake City as she fought for her life. This was before the advent of
cell phones, text messages, and things like Skype. So keeping in touch was
difficult at best. Long distance phone calls were made sparingly because of the
cost. (This would have been in 1976. Just sayin’.) It was a difficult time.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then, adding insult to injury, I went through what I
shared last week. I would say that was a pretty intense, heart-rending year!
But I survived. And the testimony I had been seeking developed despite all of
that. I’ll be honest—the months following my park adventure were horrible. I
didn’t trust people—I felt like my Heavenly Father had let me down . . . a lot.
(It would take a while for me to realize how watched over I really was.) I felt
betrayed. Hadn’t I been trying to do everything I had been asked to do to gain
a testimony? I had been reading the Book of Mormon, praying about it, and
pondering things in my spare time. Then I was attacked in the park, and I
basically became a bit of a hermit. I went through the motions—attended school,
came home, went to my bedroom and studied, played the guitar, read. Worked at
my dad’s drugstore once in a while. That was it. I found out later on that my
parents were so worried about me, they agreed to let me attend a tri-stake
youth conference in West Yellowstone that spring. My Young Women leaders went
to bat for me, promising my parents that I would be watched over the entire
time. It was everyone’s attempt to pull me out of the shell I had crawled into.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And it worked! I had a good time! I actually smiled
and meant it periodically at the varying activities. My good friend who had
been fighting Lupus had been able to come, and we had a great time attending
the mini-classes. Then the final event took place, a testimony meeting—and the
testimony I had been seeking, came together in a way I’ve never forgotten.
There we were, in a large room that contained kids from all over the place, and
I felt like my heart was on fire as I heard the first few testimonies that were
shared. I found myself unable to remain in my seat as I marched toward the
podium. And all of the pieces of my struggling testimony came together as I
shared what was in my heart. I don’t remember what I said, but I’ve never
forgotten what I felt as I gained a strong witness of the truthfulness of the
Gospel of Jesus Christ. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was on a spiritual high the rest of the night as
we journeyed home. I had never experienced such joy—it more than made up for
all of the sorrow and pain I had endured the months before. And after that, I
came out of my shell. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There was one problem—there were still things about
the LDS Church that I didn’t understand. (Note: I came from an inactive LDS
home.) Items like family home evening, family prayer, etc. eluded me. And I
didn’t get how promptings from the Holy Ghost worked. I know—I’d had quite an
example of that during my park adventure. But it would take me a while to
comprehend what promptings were and the importance of heeding them when they
came. So I had a refresher course during my senior year of high school. It’s
how things work in my life.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">By then I worked in my spare time at a local
drive-in called The Frost-Top. I had started as a lowly counter girl, then
became a full-fledged waitress, fry cook, assistant cook, and by my senior
year, I was one of the main cooks. In the summer months, that place was
hopping! We would fill the carport, the counter, and the dining room. It would
take several waitresses, a couple of fry cooks, and one or two main cooks to
keep up with everything. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The winter months were slower. The tourist season
(people heading up to Island Park and West Yellowstone) was pretty much over,
and so our main clientele consisted of the local population. On the night in
question, it was just myself, and Donna, a good friend of mine, who were
working at the drive-in. Because it had been so slow, the owners stopped by
with a list of cleaning jobs for both of us. They were on their way to Idaho
Falls to pick up supplies and would be gone the rest of the evening. So I was
left in charge and was instructed to make sure we cleaned up everything on the
list.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rolling up our sleeves, Donna and I began tackling
the items we were to spit-shine that night. Then suddenly, the place filled
with customers. The dining room was full, the counter was overflowing, and our
carport was maxed out! We tried desperately to call some of the other girls to
come in to help, but they either wouldn’t answer the phone, or they told us
they were busy. We finally gave up, explained our plight to the customers, and
dived in. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We didn’t know there had been a snowmobile race in
Island Park that day. And since we were the only drive-in around for miles,
they all stopped in for dinner that night. They were all good sports. They
could see our dilemma, so some of the big burly snowmobilers became waitresses
for us, and Donna came around behind the grill to help me cook up the orders.
We fed everyone, and they all left happy. Then we surveyed our mess and
groaned. Dishes were piled everywhere. The floors looked horrible. And there
were only two of us to clean it all up.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We panicked because it was already an hour over when
we were supposed to be closed. And we hadn’t tackled hardly any of the items on
the to-do lists we had been given. It never occurred to us how happy the owners
would be over the money we had made them that night. Instead, we pictured how
upset they would be because we didn’t get everything done in the time frame
they had wanted. Already exhausted, we did our best to clean up our huge mess.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">An hour later, we had things looking pretty sharp.
We had scrubbed, washed, and wiped down pretty much everything. Then I heard a
disturbing sizzle. I had forgotten about the fryers. That night I was supposed
to dump out the oil, take it around back to the grease barrel, clean the
fryers, and put in fresh oil for the next day. Normally, we turned off the
fryers to cool while we cleaned the rest of the kitchen. I had forgotten in my
haste to tidy up that night. So they were still set at 375 degrees. Dismayed, I
quickly shut them off.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I ran to the back room and found the large bucket we
used to empty the fryers. Normally we emptied them one at a time into the large
metal bucket and carried it outside to the grease barrel. That night I had a
thought—I figured both fryers of grease would fit inside the bucket. It would save
me precious time. The minute that thought entered my head, I felt an impression
that this was a bad idea. I ignored it and dumped in the first fryer’s grease.
As I reached for the second fryer, I felt that impression again, only stronger.
Donna came around the corner just then and saw what I was about to do. She told
me she didn’t think it was a good idea, but I explained I was saving us time.
Just as I began to dump the oil from the second fryer into the bucket, I was
hit a third time with the same impression that THIS WASN’T A GOOD IDEA!!! I
ignored it and dumped in the oil anyway. It nearly filled the metal bucket. But
I was young, and strong . . . and stupid.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I managed to carry the bucket outside—Donna held the
door open for me, still giving me an exasperated look. I carried the bucket
around back to the grease barrel. As I lifted it over my head to dump the oil inside
the large metal barrel, I remember thinking, “See, everything worked out just
fine.” Famous last words. Just then I slipped on the ice that surrounded the
barrel, the bucket of oil tipped toward me, and doused my head, face, and neck
with the hot oil.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’m not a screamer, but I screamed that night. Donna
came running, saw what had happened, and stood there in panic mode. Then the
calming influence of the Comforter took over and she said later that it was
like having someone standing beside her, telling her what to do. She dragged me
immediately to a snowbank where she felt impressed to cover my face and neck with
as much snow as she could grab. She had to sit on me to keep the snow in place.
I was in so much pain and so out of it that I fought her a bit. Eventually she
felt impressed to get me inside the building. We were both short and petite. I’m
not sure how she managed to get me inside that building, but she did. She
propped me up against the wall by the phone and put ice from the ice machine
everywhere I was burned. Then she called my parents and I was taken to the
local hospital.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was not a pleasant night. I remember fading in
and out of consciousness because of the pain. I remember hearing the doctor
telling my parents that I would probably need numerous skin grafts, and that I
would be scarred the rest of my life. I know they put layers of stuff on my
face in an attempt to save it. At some point my mother had arranged for two men
from our ward to give me a priesthood blessing. I’m not sure who these men were—by
then my entire face was covered with medication and gauze and sight wasn’t
possible. I don’t remember the entire blessing. I remember one line—that I
would be healed according to my faith. It terrified me. I had a testimony, but
I wasn’t sure how much faith I possessed. I was still working on that item.
Then the pain meds blissfully knocked me out and I don’t remember anything else
about that night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The next morning, the layers of gauze and goo were
slowly removed from my face and neck. I blinked as sight began to return. I saw
my mother burst into tears and I was terrified that I now looked like a
monster. A hand mirror was brought into the room and I was asked if I wanted to
see how things looked. I didn’t, but gathering my courage, I reached for the
mirror. I was stunned. I looked like I had a bad sunburn and there was just one
blister on the side of my nose. Wow!!! It was a miracle of gigantic
proportions. There would be no permanent scarring.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Naturally the doctor took all of the credit. He was
a young guy who had just earned his degree and he had tried something he had
learned in school to help save my face. I know it helped. But I also know my
mother’s faith had a lot to do with how things turned out, that combined with
the blessing I received . . . and Donna. Because she heeded the promptings she
had received the night before, she had been able to draw out a lot of the heat
from my face and neck before it cooked things. She literally saved my face!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Moral of the story: it is important to listen to
promptings when they come. Don’t ignore them. You may never know why you were
impressed to do or say something, but it’s important regardless! And priesthood
blessings are real! I will never deny that fact.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So, yes, I learned a few important things the hard
way, but I did learn them, and I’ve never forgotten how crucial they are. In
this day of criticism, skepticism, and doubt, I stand as a witness to truth.
When I say I know the Gospel is true, it’s because I know it with everything
that I am that it is! When I share that priesthood blessings work and are real,
it’s because I’ve lived it! And when I state how important it is to heed
promptings from the Holy Ghost, it’s because those promptings have saved my life . .
. repeatedly. And if you want to know these things for yourself, buckle up,
buttercup, it’s quite a ride . . . but totally worth it in the end.</span></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-12066528232915540562017-10-17T05:56:00.001-07:002017-10-17T05:56:19.879-07:00Moi Aussi (French for "Me, Too.")<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikNU3joeOItW66dDF6JLflM2oKmODIyz3ZSNqM1StnI8S-giRKQ5OWdA-pdCumDw08UDZhld9Zww4pu0zywixIe9w4tM4cQSoVnn6PR97kvlvHDZ1fQ5Ex5hwhBiKJ6UrU3p9nmHQHj7E/s1600/Heavenly+Light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikNU3joeOItW66dDF6JLflM2oKmODIyz3ZSNqM1StnI8S-giRKQ5OWdA-pdCumDw08UDZhld9Zww4pu0zywixIe9w4tM4cQSoVnn6PR97kvlvHDZ1fQ5Ex5hwhBiKJ6UrU3p9nmHQHj7E/s320/Heavenly+Light.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve read numerous posts recently that start with
"Me, Too." It’s part of a campaign to make people aware of the widespread problem
that unfortunately exists in our society. There is a lot of abuse currently taking
place—and a lot that happened years ago. All of it is horrible and it makes me
sick to think about it—for a lot of reasons. Currently, I fear for my
grandchildren and I often worry about the kind of world they are inheriting. I
pray for their safety daily, knowing there are dangerous predators out there in
this wicked world. But I also know that heavenly protection is real and so daily
I humbly ask that my grandchildren receive the same kind of defense that I have
had my entire life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The guilt I feel with regard to sexual harassment/abuse is this—why
was I watched over so carefully, when others were not? We are all beloved
children of God. I know that with everything that I am. But it has haunted me
that I was repeatedly delivered out of dangerous situations, when others were
not. I will probably never know why until next life when I’ll probably be told
that I was a wimpy spirit who couldn’t handle something like that. ;)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Here are 3 adventures that I’ve endured. I will be
forever grateful for the numerous ways I have been delivered out of traumatic
attacks that I possibly wouldn’t have survived. Miracles do happen, and I
suspect the veil is thinner than we realize:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My sophomore year of high school, I was invited to a
special night-time holiday party at a nearby park in our small town. The guy
who called to invite me, assured that all of my friends would be there. My
parents still insisted that my younger brother escort me to the park across the
street from our house. I was mortified. I was, after all, fifteen years old,
and all of my friends were going to be there. But the only way my parents would
let me go was if my brother came with me. He was about as thrilled as I was,
but he dutifully came. We reached the pavilion where the “party” was to take
place, and no one was there. We waited for several minutes, then I concluded
that I had been set up by one of my friends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We returned home and I angrily
stomped toward the phone to call one of my friends for an explanation. Just as
I reached the phone (back then they were attached to the wall) it rang and I
answered. The same guy had called back. He lied again about who he was, and
assured, again, that all of my friends were coming to this party. It had been
delayed for a reason I can’t remember now. I told this guy that I would call
one of my friends for a ride to the party, but each time I mentioned getting
hold of one of them, he assured that they were busy getting things for the
party. Finally I said that I would just walk over alone, since the park was
right across the street from my house. I hung up, told my parents that the party
was still on, and that all of my friends would be there. When they asked if I
wanted my brother to come with me again, I refused the offer. (Yes, I was young
and stupid.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I had an uneasy feeling about things, but I still walked over
alone this time. And at first, I couldn’t see anyone. Then a guy seemed to
materialize out of nowhere. He was wearing one of those parkas that were
popular back in the 70’s. It should have struck me as odd that he had the hood
on and the fur completely blocked out his face. I couldn’t tell who it was, and
assumed it was a neighborhood boy. I asked if he was there for the party, and
he said that he was. We waited for several minutes as car after car drove by
the park. No one stopped. Finally I said that I was going to walk home and call
one of my friends to see what was going on. It was late in December and very
cold. I turned and began walking away from the pavilion. Then I realized I was
being rude. Surely the guy who had met me at the pavilion was cold, too. I
turned to ask if he wanted to come over for some hot chocolate while I made
phone calls, and he was right behind me. That should have been a clue that I
was in trouble, but it wasn’t. I was young and very naïve. When I asked if he
wanted to come over for some hot chocolate, he very gruffly said, “NO!” Irked by
his response, I turned back around and had only taken another step when he
grabbed me from behind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There are no words to describe the terror I
experienced that night as I froze in place. But I will be forever grateful for
the strong promptings that came, compliments of the Holy Ghost. “Kick behind
you as hard as you can!” echoed inside of my mind. I still couldn’t move. That
prompting came three times before I was able to respond. The last time was like
an internal brick upside the head. I finally kicked behind me, and the guy
dropped me in the snow and ran. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Later, the police traced his footprints in the snow.
They could see where the attack happened, and they followed the jerk’s footsteps
to the highway where the prints disappeared. They called the guy who was
supposedly putting the party together that night, and he knew nothing about any
of it. He had been home all night with his parents. To this day, we have no
idea who my attacker was. And yes, I was very, very lucky, and watched over,
but I still carry internal scars over that night. My only physical injuries
were a few bruises, but the terror I would experience repeatedly because of
what happened would haunt me for a very long time. I no longer trusted anyone.
I was afraid to go anywhere by myself after dark. And to this day, if anyone
comes up behind me and I don’t know they are there, I still jump quite high into the air. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The good side: what I experienced saved my life
twice. Years later, I was approached in the middle of the day in a parking lot
by a clean cut young man who stood right by my car door as I was getting ready
to go grocery shopping. He claimed he was selling wicker products to support
himself in college and each time I took a step, he took one to stay with me. I
started getting uneasy promptings to stay out of his reach right off the bat. Because
of what I had endured during my park adventure, I recognized that I was in
danger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I noticed that this young man was trying to herd me toward
a dirty full-size van I had purposely parked away from, since it gave me the
creeps when I saw it earlier. Long story short, another man jumped out of the
van and came running toward me as a very familiar voice yelled inside of my
head that I needed to run fast toward the store. I was able to outrun both men
and they took off as I entered the store. As I ran, I noticed that a third man
was at the wheel of the van as it drove by.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was in such a state of shock, I went inside the
store, grabbed a cart, and began putting strange things inside of it until a
good friend stopped me and asked what was wrong. She told me later that I was
white as a sheet, and she knew I wasn’t okay. I told her what had almost
happened, and she dragged me to the front of the store to tell the manager.
Once again, the police were summoned, but once again, nothing came of it
because I was okay. Sort of.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The next day, the dead body of nude woman was found
outside of a nearby town. I had a horrible impression that it could’ve been me.
That image haunted me for a long time, and I grieved for the dead woman,
wishing we could’ve caught the three men in the van the day before.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Last adventure: my mother had just endured a major
surgery. We had taken her home that day to her apartment in Salt Lake City.
That night we realized we needed some supplies from the local grocery store. So
I drove my youngest sister to the nearest store that was about 4-5 blocks away
from our mother’s apartment. We went inside, bought what we needed, and headed
out to the parking lot. Within minutes a young man appeared in front of us with
a duffel bag. He said he had some nice perfume to show us. Immediately I was
hit with the same feeling of unease I had experienced during my park attack and
the near abduction with the dirty van. When the young man knelt down to pull
something from his duffel bag, I grabbed my sister and yelled, “RUN!”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We ran
like crazy to my car, unlocked the doors, and climbed inside. I started the
engine and began driving across the parking lot. We thought we were safe, but
another prompting told me to look in my rearview mirror. A car was following
us, driven by a huge, angry looking man, and the young man with the duffel bag was
sitting next to him. Praying like crazy, I drove across the parking lot, and
that car stayed right with us. We reached a very busy street with about 4-5
lanes of steady traffic. I’m not sure what happened at that point. It was like
someone else took over the wheel. Somehow, we made it across all five lanes and
pulled up next to a cop car in the parking lot that was on the other side of
the street. The car that tried to follow us, had to go with the traffic in the second
lane, or get hit by numerous cars. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My sister later told me that she wasn’t going to
ride with me ever again. But . . . we were safe. We never did tell the police
about what had happened. From past experience, I knew it wouldn’t do any good.
We didn’t have any proof that anything had happened, other than we were both
shaking, and extremely terrified.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So, moral of the story, heed promptings!!!! They
come for a reason!!! Do your best to be safe . . . and know that sometimes,
even when you think you are being safe, bad things can happen. I try not to
live in fear, and I am extremely grateful for the protection that has been
granted throughout my life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My husband and I raised all boys, and they have been
taught to respect others. These awesome sons know what I’ve been through, and they
are very caring, thoughtful men who do a lot of good in the world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Unfortunately, there are bad men and women in this
troubled world who cause a lot of harm. Some of my relatives and friends have
endured horrible things because of people like that. It tears my heart out. How
grateful I am for our Savior who understands all of the pain that any of us
will ever endure. He can truly heal our shattered hearts and help us find joy
in a world that does its best to drag us down. I have found peace of heart and
mind by turning over things I can’t control to Him. And it does make all of the
difference in the world. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-55717416769153267672017-09-22T06:19:00.003-07:002017-09-22T06:19:29.755-07:00When The Dam Breaks<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawljhUEymjPgzhU_HTaFtwrg_0L8tVXSmaKxEllfmLV6JmS0D6kOjyl2Zkf4H3gNy58G_v1fOg0QOO2SI9fmaFVEpd7YXTU-errRAlIFoXmMQWNq1tHwiBQ7pMVMsUNiT4aDU_f9Qzl4/s1600/Teton+Dam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawljhUEymjPgzhU_HTaFtwrg_0L8tVXSmaKxEllfmLV6JmS0D6kOjyl2Zkf4H3gNy58G_v1fOg0QOO2SI9fmaFVEpd7YXTU-errRAlIFoXmMQWNq1tHwiBQ7pMVMsUNiT4aDU_f9Qzl4/s320/Teton+Dam.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">June 5, 1976 began as a typical day. It was a
Saturday and I was scheduled to work a shift at the drugstore my dad managed in
Ashton, Idaho. As such, I quickly prepared for the day and headed to work later
that morning. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My duties at the store included stocking shelves,
working in the old-fashioned soda fountain, and waiting on customers. It was
good job for a fifteen-year-old, and I enjoyed it, most of the time. I worked
with awesome ladies and the days passed quickly. This particular day proved to
be one of the craziest any of us had ever faced.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That afternoon, people began flooding into the
store. My dad had been listening to the radio while working in the pharmacy and
he told us that the Teton Dam had collapsed and people were running scared,
seeking higher ground. We were one of the few stores in the small town of
Ashton, and it seemed that within minutes, we were wall to wall with people who
were frantically buying up everything in sight. We sold out of first aid
supplies, diapers, and anything else these people thought would come in handy.
Most had fled immediately from their homes to find safety and only had what
they had grabbed on the way out. I remember how frightened most of them
appeared and we did our best to help them as they searched for basic supplies.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We were so swamped, it didn’t dawn on me for quite a
while that we had relatives caught in the flood’s violent path. When the dam
collapsed, a wall of water rushed toward the communities in its way. It was
rumored that around 13,000 livestock perished—my horse was among those lost. An
uncle had kept it pastured with his horses and I was later told that my
appaloosa colt was forced through a barbwire fence. The thought of that haunted
me for a long time.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fourteen people died that day as a result of the
flood. We should count our blessings that more didn’t perish in the disaster.
Roads were washed away, homes were destroyed, telephone lines were down, and it
would take an agonizing time for us to learn that our family who lived in the
area had survived. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My paternal grandmother lived in a house in Roberts
with one of my uncles. We were told that she had refused to evacuate, intent on
saving her home. She opened the back door and the front door, then climbed onto
the back of her couch and had a front row seat to the water that came rushing
through. It entered through one door and exited the other on its way to merge
with Snake River. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Another uncle’s home was destroyed as the flood
water reached his place in Menan. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and
his family were among those who later received a FEMA trailer to live in while
a new home was built. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We were told that many people in the area headed to
the higher ground of Ricks College when the flood took place. This small
university became a safe haven where people gathered in the buildings for
shelter. Food was prepared in the cafeteria to feed the 2000 people who had
fled immediately to this location. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nearly 10,000 people stood on the hills above
Rexburg and watched as the flood waters tore their community to shreds. The
water had picked up large logs from a nearby sawmill and the lumber quickly
became battering rams that destroyed homes and businesses throughout the area.
Some struck a local gas station and caught fire in the resulting explosion. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We came down as a family as soon as we were allowed
in the area to help our relatives who had survived this tragedy. My father had
recently purchased a four wheel drive Chevy Suburban and I know it helped us
maneuver through road conditions that were nearly non-existent. It’s difficult
to put into words the devastation I saw that day. My high school, North
Fremont, often competed in sporting activities with the teams located in Sugar
City. I had traveled to this small town quite often. I was stunned to see that
it was totally annihilated. Miles of mud and debris littered what used to be a
town. The smell was horrific. Combine swampy mud with dead animals and it’s a
scent you don’t soon forget.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I later learned that the Idaho National Guard came
into the area to clear roads, rebuild bridges, and to bury the dead animals.
College students volunteered hours of service to aid those who had sought
shelter at the small university in Rexburg. It was estimated that over 4,000
people were fed meals in the early days of the restoration effort. Volunteers
from all over the state and nation came to help in the massive clean-up that
took place. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As we drove through the area, I was amazed to see
how random some of the destruction was. One house would be totally obliterated,
while another would be standing as though nothing had happened. For the most
part, though, the devastation was overwhelming.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When we reached our grandmother’s home, we carefully
exited the Suburban. Mud was everywhere. I already mentioned the smell. We made
our way inside the house where my grandmother and uncle were already shoveling
out the mud that had been deposited throughout the small home. We worked with
them for hours to try to salvage what could be saved. I didn’t think we would
ever get all of that mud scrubbed clean, but eventually, it began to look like
Grandma’s home again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In the days, weeks, and years that followed, it was
amazing to see how people worked together to restore all that was lost. So many
unsung heroes stepped forward to help in any way that they could. It was an
experience that I’ve never forgotten, and one that comes to mind each time an
act of devastation takes place.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Recently, we’ve been inundated with disasters all
over the world, including here in the United States. Hurricanes, tornadoes,
flooding, earthquakes . . . the list goes on and on. Our hearts and prayers go
out to anyone touched by these tragic events—and we all do our best to help in
any way that we can.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It has been my observation that during stressful
times like these, we often see the best in people as they strive to help those
around them. We pull outside of ourselves to offer aid and solace to those who
have lost so much. Selfishness and pride are left by the wayside as we roll up
our sleeves to serve others. It’s sad that it sometimes takes a disaster for us
to realize what is really important. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My suggestion at the moment—take the time to ponder
the great blessings we enjoy. Look deep inside your heart and consider what it
is you can do to help those who are suffering. It is often the simple things
that mean the most. I heard of one young lady who traveled up to Idaho after
she learned what had taken place following the collapse of the Teton Dam. She
had thoughtfully brought clean water in containers to share with those who had
nothing to drink. Something that simple brought relief to those who burned with
thirst. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So on this day, push aside trivial concerns, roll up
your sleeves, and see how much good you can accomplish for those who have lost
everything. Not only will these acts of service go a long way toward helping
others, but you’ll notice that a sense of peace will fill your heart as you
serve. And in the end, isn't that what it's all about?!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-717100841169386561.post-12134006457318000862017-08-11T04:03:00.002-07:002017-08-11T04:03:30.878-07:00A Matter of Faith<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We live in a crazy time. Everywhere we look there is
so much going on, in every direction. The news is filled with stories that tear
at our hearts. Disasters are taking place all over the world. Evil is rampant.
And in our own lives, emotional, physical, and mental chaos seems to reign
supreme. How can we survive when all we know appears to be turning inside out
and upside down?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve asked this question before. This isn’t the
first time things appeared to be going less than well. In one year (1983 to be
exact) several things hit the fan at approximately the same time. For example,
I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. Finally. After months of not knowing why
I felt like walking death, I finally had a diagnosis. During months of frustration
I had been told things like: “You possibly have a brain tumor.” Then there was
the theory, “Wait, we now think you have a form of epilepsy.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To be fair,Type 1
diabetes is a difficult condition to pin down. Until it fully dies, the
pancreas still functions enough to disguise what is really going on. It didn’t
help that by then, my husband and I were expecting our first child. Everything
they presented for us to try, would affect our unborn child. It was a perilous
time. One of the things that kept me going was the promise I was given during a
priesthood blessing that all would be well. I clung to that hope. But there
was a catch, I was told that all would be well, according to my faith.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There was that word again. It was a word that would
haunt me for several years. Faith. It bothered me at first because I had no
idea what it meant. The first time I heard it, I was a mixed up teen. Things
were bad at home, and questions of who I was, and what this life was all about
really bothered me. It wasn’t always easy for me to attend church meetings, but
I often found that I felt peace inside whenever I did. So I risked the lectures
I would later receive from a father who was going through his own personal
hades to try to figure out for myself what was true.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That is and always has been a key to developing
faith. And it is an uphill battle. I believe it was meant to be that way. If
something is easily attained, it doesn’t mean as much to us. But because it
took everything I had to give and then some to gain my own personal testimony
of what is true, it means more to me than I will ever be able to share. I did
not lean on anyone else’s beliefs. My testimony had come at such a personal
cost, it was something I treasured. I had slogged through the mire of doubt,
persecution, and heartache to learn for myself what this life is all about. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I ache for those who are going through a similar
quest, and yet, I also find myself secretly cheering, because I know in the
end, after all of the questions have been asked, after a perilous journey
across a jagged desert of unbelief, inner pain, and turmoil that is difficult
to put into words, the sweet relief of living water will make up for any
discomfort, trial or pain.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I will never forget what I felt the night all of the
pieces of the puzzle that was my life finally came together. The witness I
experienced was so strong, it has held me together through countless trials.
Case in point—it helped me survive the turmoil of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1983.
As I already mentioned, it was a difficult time. I was diagnosed as a Type 1
diabetic and was told that I would be giving shots of insulin the rest of my
life. Alrighty then—that was a bit of a challenge, but knowing I was a daughter
of God with unlimited access to His help would see me through.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My father’s mental state at that time wasn’t good.
Daily I received heart-wrenching phone calls from him as he assured me I was a
terrible person if I didn’t give up my current church calling and focus on my
health and the health of my unborn child. These phone calls took a toll, and eventually,
toward the end of that challenging pregnancy, I went to my bishop and explained
the situation. He decided to temporarily release me from teaching my Primary
class, and though I felt horrible about that for a long time, it did ease a bit
of what I was going through.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The promise I had been given came through, and our
first child was born healthy and strong. It had been a rough delivery. He was a
high breech baby and after one day of trying to turn him around, the doctors
gave up and did an emergency c-section. We learned the hard way that I didn’t
react well to the pain medication I was given before the surgery. I felt the
entire thing. But once they start a c-section, there is a short window of time
to deliver the baby, so they continued. My mother later told me how grey I
looked when they brought me back to my hospital room. She was afraid I wasn’t
going to make it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Things continued to go horribly wrong. I developed a
series of blood clots in one leg, and my baby boy was sent home without me a
few days later. I would remain in the hospital for at least 10 more days on
blood thinner IV’s as they tried to save my life. It was a scary
time. The thing that got me through was my faith in God. My faith in the
testimony I had worked so hard to secure. I knew my life was in the hands of my
Heavenly Father. I knew I was His daughter and that He loved me. I trusted in
Him to help me endure.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That first night, as I lay quietly in my hospital
bed doing my best to remain in mortal mode, I was given a priesthood blessing
by two young LDS men who didn’t know me. I stress that in part because of a
promise I was given. Not only was I promised I would survive, but I was also
told my Father in heaven knew what was going on with my parents and all would
be well. I didn’t need to worry about them. This was such a relief since my mother and younger sisters were busy taking care of my newborn son while my husband returned to work, and my brother was miles away trying to help our father through each difficult day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That blessing hit me hard. I was in a large hospital
far from my Idaho home and had just been given peace of mind concerning the
very thing I was worrying about by two young men who had no idea what was going
on in my life. It was a witness to me that my Father in heaven knew and
understood my concerns. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So I endured 10 very difficult days with as much
courage as I could muster. Among other challenges, the nurses had to do
everything for me. I joked that I couldn’t even blow my own nose, but it was
true. They were fighting to save my life. A lady in similar circumstances had
died right outside my hospital room as a clot hit her heart. They were
determined not to lose me, too. So I was handled with kid gloves until I was well enough to return home.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was still a challenging time as I tried to care
for a newborn while on crutches. It would take a couple of months for me to be
able to walk around without their help as my leg healed. And just as I was
getting back on my feet, my father took his own life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I felt so betrayed! Hadn’t I been promised that all
would be well? All was not well!!! All was horrible and hard and a nightmare!!!
And yet, when I pushed the pain aside, in my heart of hearts, I still knew what
was true. On my knees, enduring inner turmoil that ripped me apart, my
testimony still lay . . . in tatters . . . but it was there all the same. It
would prove to be the glimmer of hope that would hold me together despite all
we were enduring.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It would take a long time for me to realize how
truly watched over our family had been. In Dad’s confused state, it would have
been very easy for him to have taken other family members out with him. But it
didn’t happen. We were watched over and protected in ways we’re still figuring
out. Miracles transpired that kept us all going. I will never be able to say that
we were ignored by heaven. We were surrounded by angels who eased
our way and helped us through. Some were of the mortal variety like the couple
who offered to pay for my brother’s mission a few months later. Some were on
the other side of the veil, very possibly loved ones who watched over us in a
myriad of ways.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Through it all, my testimony survived. The faith I
had worked so hard to attain kept me going. Sometimes it was minute by minute,
but it glimmered with hope for a better day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So back to this current time. Things are difficult.
All is not well, and yet, if we’ll dig down deep to the roots of the tree of
life as my mother once saw in a very vivid dream, we will survive. Ask your
questions. Rant and rave and throw yourselves.Then hit your knees in <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">sincere </b>prayer. Pray to know what is
really true and remain on your knees until the answers come. They will come. I
know that with everything that I am. Remember always the importance of
nourishing that testimony once it flickers into existence. Never allow it to
wither and die.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My heart contains many scars, but it also holds
tight to a shining diamond of truth that keeps me going on even the most
difficult day. To paraphrase Joseph Smith, “How can I deny what God knows that
I know?” I can’t. It’s everything I am. Despite difficulties, human nature, and
the uncertainty of the future, I still cling to truth, faith, and hope. When
it’s all said and done, I know that climbing this particular mountain is worth
all of the effort it takes to reach the summit. And the view will be worth the
sacrifice it took to make the climb.</span></div>
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Cheri J. Cranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07956409422368334793noreply@blogger.com0