Latter-day Village Square

I don’t know if anyone reads my blog - thanks if you do!  I just feel a need to put out there what goes on for me because I think really many people have no idea what goes on behind the scenes of this website.

In 2005 Tim and I merged our websites to form Latter-dayVillage.com.  We both had paid subscription websites for LDS teachers and both sold some mail-order items.  We used a lot of the same software.  And I know I respected Tim, and looking back now, I guess he respected me, because he is so private and kept very close reins on his business, that to think he agreed to partner with me without ever meeting me in person says a lot.

So it was just the two of us administering the site, and some very talented content contributors and vendors whose materials we happily included, and a lot of wonderful members who made up Latter-day Village.  We didn’t have a staff, unless you count our families who sometimes had to pitch in.  We worked out of our homes and most days I am lucky to change out of my robe.

Tim set up our computers with webcams, and a few times we actually used them.  We mostly used Yahoo Instant Messenger and email, and occasionally the telephone - which I have some weird phobia about.  It is remarkable how we were able to run a business with Tim in NE Wyoming and me on the Wasatch Front.

A couple days before Tim died, he sent an email to me from his phone - I had a feeling he was seriously ill and got scared.  And I wondered what I would do if . . .  I wanted him to not worry about the site, so I emailed him back I would take care of things and left a voice mail and instant messaged his kids - but we didn’t talk.  I had a thought about selling LDV.  Was it even a possibility?  When I got the call from his brother, I knew what he was going to say.

There were several administrative actions I did right away, like forwarding his email to myself etc.  In the next few days I had to try to get control of the site and the business without really knowing much of what all he did.  And that continued and still continues.  I knew that we had vendors to pay, and members who were expecting access to material they had paid for, and customers who were expecting orders to be shipped, and many bills to pay.  It was Christmas and I hadn’t been paid.  His family had a funeral to plan and pay for.  All that, aside from mourning and overcoming the shock.  So selling the site was something for future discussions.

Since then I have learned a lot about the nuts and bolts of the technical and accounting and shipping side of things.  Really too busy to look very far into the future.  Much of it was very dismaying to me - I was so scared about what to do, how to do it, and how to keep it all going so that I had a job and our customers/members got what they needed and expected from LDV.

I was feeling much better about things of late, both in business and personally.  I’ve done a lot of reflecting and healing, sorting out and cleaning up.  And there is plenty more to do.  When the site went down on April Fool’s Day, I felt pretty calm.  I knew we did backups of the site.  I figured there must be a way to restore it.  When the process took longer than I expected, I still did not panic.  But I did wonder what I would do if somehow we could not restore the site.  I would be in a lot of trouble.  But the spirit kept me relatively calm.

I got so many messages from people who needed the site and wondered what was going on - and then of encouragement and gratitude - it really was an eye opener.  And when all is said and done, I know that it was a good thing Tim and I merged our sites.  It has been work no one else could do or would do.  No one else would have a clue and the seminary site would have died.  And my site would have died too.  I know that since 2005, many many people have benefitted from LDV - and hopefully, many more will in the future.

One of the talks in conference was by Sister Thompson of the RS General Presidency.  She quoted the last verse of the song “The Time Is far Spent” and it really struck me -

Be fixed in your purpose, for Satan will try you;
The weight of your calling he perfectly knows.
Your path may be thorny, but Jesus is nigh you;
His arm is sufficient, tho demons oppose.
His arm is sufficient, tho demons oppose.

I have felt like my path is thorny - and I knew that someone was opposed to what I am doing - but did not necessarily see it as “my calling.”

My dear friends, it is a calling - I knew several years ago that my church callings were not the only place the Lord expected me to use my talents.  I tried to get a job working for the church - like in the publications department - or even the theater - or to find an existing organization I could become part of that was vibrant and doing good and needing what I had to give, and it just never worked out.  So I kept doing my own thing - writing books, and doing my website, and then LDV with Tim - and while I have barely gotten by many months, I have gotten by.  I was not set apart by priesthood leaders to do what I do.  I was not hired by the church to do what I do.  But I do still believe it is my calling.  When I think of teachers who come here to find help - ideas, encouragement, inspiration - something that will assist them in their callings with the children and youth and even the adults they teach - and their families - who knows, I will never know, Tim never knew - just how far reaching the impact of this website might possibly be for good, for the gospel cause, for teachers and their students when it is most needed.

I apologize for being weak and allowing myself to be troubled when people are critical that we charge for our services.  Sometimes I spend inordinate portions of my time feeling like I must defend my choices - to EVERYONE - but somehow I still get other things done.

The stories this conference of people who suffered for the cause of Zion - pioneers and converts in foreign lands, burying loved ones, suffering debilitations of all kinds - I have to admit, it hit home with me.  I have not buried my children in frozen ground.  But I have suffered leaving my homeland (Ohio) to come to Zion (Utah) and though that sounds like no big deal, as an 18 year old convert, believe you me, I experienced culture shock that was monumental and which I am still recovering from 33 years later.

I recently realized just what a blow or set of blows it has been for me over the years to be the only active member of the church in my family aside from my two sons.  I realized that I have felt a lot of disappointment, grief, lonliness, alienation, and know I have been much misunderstood by my non-member family and friends and my pioneer stock LDS friends and leaders.  And now I know that I have been angry about it, but not consciously, for that made no sense - and who do I focus that anger on anyway????  But there it was, I saw I was angry.  Perhaps completely worn out from not having any way to acknowledge and express it.  Closed down, depressed, exhausted.

But as I listened to conference, I was touched again and again, and I had to ask myself, “So, now you realize how hard it has been to be so alone in this church, to feel so alienated by everyone - would you go back and change your decision to be baptized?”

No.  Absolutely not!

It has not been easy.  But I know what I know and I must follow suit.  I made that decision in 1975 at the age of 16.  I knew I’d found what I’d been searching for - for 8 years - and that’s all there was to it.  I had no idea it would be such a struggle, that I would sacrifice so much.  But there was never any question about it.  And there still isn’t.

It might not be walking 1500 miles with rags wrapped around my feet.  It might not be sharing my husband with several other wives.  It might not be watching my husband be hauled off to jail on trumped up charges, or watching him go off on a mission with sick hungry babies in my arms - or moving to one more desolate area to start over one more time at the call of a prophet.  But I am a pioneer.

I feel generations past, present and future depending on me - one single person - to make sure that we all move in the right direction and partake of the saving ordinances so we might be reunited in the hereafter.  I am driven on the one hand, and scared spitless on the other.  I must have agreed to this.  I must have been prepared well for this.  But at times, I am so numb I do not know how I can go on.

I am a pioneer.

The website going down (thorns in my path) resulted in correspondence filled with encouragement which fuels me in ways I needed so much.  And I have had several wonderful connections made with distant relatives who found my family history website and contacted me - often with information I thought I’d never find - and I know there are those on the other side of the veil helping me and it fills me with immense gratitude.

My sons are dear men.  It is deeply gratifying to share life with them, and that they want to share with me.  Someday, I WILL be a grandma - I watch my sister and my girlfriends as they enter that stage of life and imagine - but know I can’t begin to imagine what that will feel like.

Manifold will be my blessings in the life to come if I can keep keeping on.  And whatever measure of lonliness and alienation I may have felt over the years will be compensated for beyond my ability to comprehend - I just might appreciate it all the more as a result.

At the center, at the source, the foundation of all I have chosen to do in my life is my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.  He did not turn his back on me.  I shall not turn my back on Him.  But I could do more to keep in touch, and feel His love for me, and recognize my blessings and realize my potential and feel joy in the journey.

Such are my rambling thoughts this night after General Conference.

God bless us all,
~Debra

I just wanna vent.  My mom was 40 when I was born.  When I was 34, I moved to Florida from Utah at the same time my mom’s home was blown away in a hurricane.  She came to live with me.  She was 74 by then, and I discovered that her resiliancy had been greatly diminished by having her whole neighborhood wiped off the map, along with her age and the accumulation of a life time of experiences and challenges.  She had always bounced back before, but that time, it really was too profound of a “blow” (no pun intended) for her to ever really recover.  If I had understood that in essence, she was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and in a serious depression, I might have guided her to get some mental health care that may have helped.  Ten years later, we DID get her into a wonderful program, but she was in the final stages of leukemia, so she only got the benefit of it for a few short months before passing away.

I’m only 50, but I am feeling the effects of age on me that aren’t a lot of fun to admit.  The trauma I have gone through in the past few months with a divorce and the death of my business partner, and, the loss of my pet as part of the divorce, is really taking its toll on me.  I am finding change more jarring and upsetting than it ever was in the past.  And my brain seems very reluctant to adapt.

Mommy withdrew from living after losing her home, her yard, her belongings, her friends, her routine, all her social life when Andrew roared through Homestead.  So after that, she pretty much gave up on investing in anything at all.  Why invest when you could lose it all?  Not that she didn’t get a fine insurance check, but I’m not talking about money, I’m talking about love.  She loved her life.  And then it was all gone.  Money can’t buy it back.  And she no longer had the will to ever try again.

So I’m watching myself - checking in to see how I am handling the trauma of 2008.  It all happened so fast.  I filed for divorce on November 21, and it was final on December 22.  Even though it was my decision that I made after an extended period of consideration, the way it ended was so jarring and upsetting.  And before I can say BOO - all my pals are inviting me to the “singles” stuff I used to get involved with before my four year (second) marriage.  And I am not liking that.  I don’t want that.  I pretend I’m ok with it, but I’m not really.  I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want to be part of the single scene.  I feel very displaced.

Tim’s death - I’ve been thinking about that.  Just from my very selfish perspective, it seems like it came after my divorce - but, surely nothing happens by chance . . . surely it was not a surprise to God when Tim died - and so, maybe it was really the other way around.  Maybe it was important for me to get divorced because Tim was going to die.  Tim dying while my marriage was still in tact - that may have been not a good thing, it could have been very complicated legally.  I was dragging my feet, I couldn’t make up my mind or act on my decisions - but something happened and suddenly I was able to make a swift decision, and just in time, maybe, so that it would not get messy when Tim died.

The details are not important, but this situation illustrates how intricate is the weaving of all our lives.  It boggles my mind how all the threads are perfectly known and woven with care by the omniscient weaver. What all was involved and what lies ahead - only He knows, but He DOES know.

I’ve had the hardest time with losing our little puppy, Joe.  I told my husband to take him because he bought Joe and loved that dog like he seems unable to love people.  But no sooner had I told him that than I had second and third and fourth thoughts.  And once they were both gone, I found myself missing Joe more than I ever dreamed.  Animal control in distant cities have called me twice so far saying Joe has been turned in as a stray.  That is like a knife in my heart - and I am beside myself with despair over that little dog - I would have driven 800 miles for him - but he had already been retrieved both times.

Well, two days ago I looked up the humane society online and got a different website for adopting dogs in Utah, and found that there were little Maltese dogs nearby needing a home for a price I could afford.  I immediately hopped in my car and drove an hour and a half to a pet store where one rescued doggy was up for adoption that day.  I determined I would not go home without a dog.  So I found this little girl about the same age as Joe - and I adopted her.  She is a mix - no idea what the other breed is - and it was hard - I kept noticing all the ways she was not like Joe.  Funny how all his annoying behaviors and characteristics now seemed precious to me, nigh unto perfection, so anything different seemed a flaw to me.  Can I love this little girl with longer legs, a longer snout, and a gold streak down her back?  She made short order of loving me!  Oh, it would be nice if we could love so easily as little doggies.

I am very emotional these days.  I think I’d sort of shut down emotionally in the past year and a half because the feelings that were hovering just below the surface were so not fun and I didn’t feel safe expressing them. So now, they are starting to come out. It makes it hard to work and go to church when I feel so emotionally fragile.  But I have a lot of support.  And for that I am so grateful.  I’ve got family and friends and my ward - a good strong support system so no one of them has to bear too much of my neediness right now.

And then there is this invitation - to find my companionship in the Savior.  He isn’t loud and insistant - but everyonceinawhile I feel a gentle reminder that he is right here - he’ll talk anytime - and I fall asleep before He does.  He’ll go to the store with me, or walk the dog with me, or go to the pool with me, look at the stars with me . . . I’ve never needed to feel alone, and this time around, maybe I’ll get it - and take advantage of the offer that was always there.  He looketh upon the heart.

Not like me - though I am losing my eyesight a little at a time, my eyes still are VERY capable of playing tricks on me.  My brain seems rigid and this old dog finds it hard to learn new tricks.

~Debra

Last week we had two deaths in our neighborhood that took us all by surprise and saddened us deeply.  Last Monday our dear friend and former neighbor, Roman Patt, died in his sleep at age 52.  We learned that he had spent his last day at Solitude with friends, hiking and enjoying a meal - with no sign that anything was amiss.  He had a heart condition that he was on medication for, but no one expected him to die, least of all his two children who had lost their mother 11 years ago in a car accident.  Roman was full of life and knew how to enjoy it.  No, there are many others I would have imagined were much closer to death than Roman.  I attended his memorial gathering on my 50th birthday.  I am in much worse shape than Roman was, so easily that could have been me . . .

On Thursday morning, my birthday, at a school bus stop in my neighborhood, a little four year old on a bike was hit by a car making a left hand turn just after the bus pulled away.  The mother was there to watch after putting an older sibling on the bus.  She is our stake YW president.    The injuries were so severe, the little boy was pronounced dead in flight to the hospital. The teenage boy driving the car was her neighbor and friend and in her ward.

The 1st Counselor in our Stake Presidency spoke in our sacrament meeting about it.  He related how inconsolable the young man driving the car was.  He told how the second counselor met with the parents of the little boy and the young driver and how the father had wrapped his large arms around this young man to comfort him, and reminded him that this is what the atonement is for.

A 50th birthday, not to mention two deaths in our neighborhood have served to cause some reflection on my part.  Somehow it always takes us aback when someone dies.  It is as though we forget that each and every one of us is going to die (unless we live during the millennium and are merely changed in a twinkling of an eye).  Sadness and grief are understandable - but shock is something I think peculiar to our generation.  We live in an age when the advances in medical science are so remarkable, we literally expect to be cured, or resuscitated and brought back to full health no matter what the illness or injury.  Even though we see death portrayed on television, or perhaps because we see people die on television and then later they appear on another show - alive and kicking - our perception is all warped.

I have walked through pioneer cemeteries where three, four or five family members died within months of each other - presumably from some illness like cholera or the flu!  Back then, when someone became ill, people understood that it was very serious and their loved one might die. Recovery was the exception rather than the rule.  My grandfather, born in 1886, was a little sickly as a baby.  Family lore says that they didn’t name him till he was three because they weren’t sure he was going to live - well, I know they named him, but in his baby journal his mother always referred to him as baby, till he was a little older.

I had my first big loss when I was 22.  My father died of cancer at age 61.  He was not a member of the church.  I had been married not quite a year, and had a new baby when we drove from Idaho to Ohio to be with my dad.  I had no concept of death and prayed daily he would recover.  It wasn’t long before I realized he was only getting worse day by day.  So I changed my prayer.  I prayed I could go with him into the spirit world to see the look on his face when he realized there was life after death.  I didn’t need to see what he saw, just the look on his face.  I knew it was a silly prayer.

Father answers silly prayers too.  The morning my dad died, the last thing he did before breathing his final breath was open his eyes after three days in a coma.  Mom came wailing my name through the house and I passed her in the hall as I ran to my father’s bedside.  He was gone.  But I saw the look on his face.  I did not go into the spirit world with him, but the spirit world came to him before he died and he saw it or someone and opened his physical eyes to see it.  Then, a couple months later, he visited me in a dream.  I knew it was his spirit because the look on his face was amazing.  There was a peace on his countenance that I had never seen while he was alive.  He told me everything was all right.  I had never thought of my father as troubled.  He was a cheerful man.  But the contrast between his familiar physical appearance and his spirit was striking.  I realized that Daddy had dropped all his burdens.

I thought then, and have recalled a number of times over the years, that if Daddy could drop his burdens, perhaps there was hope for me.  Then came the thought, if I am going to drop them someday, why not now?  That was my goal at age 22.  Now I am 50.  I’ve failed miserably at my goal.  Now I realize I am very possessive of my burdens.  I cling to them protectively.

It doesn’t seem to matter if they are great or small.  I know it is pretty universal to hang on to our burdens.  Our fears, our disappointments, our resentments, our failures, our regrets, our offenses, our injuries, our guilt,our humiliations - yep - we do a pretty darn good job of strapping those puppies on and carrying them with us for years, decades and half centuries on end, often wholly unaware, we are so used to them, that they are there and removable.

I admit, after Dad died, I became very interested in studies about the spirit world and near death experiences.  Before that, it wasn’t something I thought about much.  But the reality of my father’s death made me very anxious to understand what happens.  I have quite a nice library on the topic.  One of my favorite books of all time is “Life Everlasting” by Duane Crowther.  Another one I have gotten more recently is “Glimpses Beyond Death’s Door” by Brent L. Top.  I got them out again, after last weeks trauma (which included other things as well, not mentioned here).  I read a series of statements by people who have died and been revived, of how it felt when they passed through the veil and met the “being of light” or whatever they called it.  Mostly they said words can’t begin to describe how wonderful it is.  The love, acceptance, peace, contentment, sense of belonging, wholeness etc is like the best thing you can imagine times a trillion.  That’s what one woman said.

It occured to me that perhaps what is felt is the reality of the atonement.  The price for all the pain we cause and that we experience is already paid for.  But we don’t comprehend that here.  Perhaps we finally begin to experience it as we come through the veil.

It is all well and good to contemplate these things.  Day to day life demands our focus and very very quickly we lose sight of any semblance of an eternal perspective.  Thank heavens for the Sabbath.  Thank heavens for the Sacrament.  Thank heavens for General Conference.  Thank heavens for the temple.  Thank heavens for the scriptures.  Thank heavens for visiting teachers. And, thank heavens for trials that make us stop and think.

If by their fruits ye shall know them, I say, we have all the proof we need that this is truly Christ’s church.  The blessings that come to me through my membership I cannot begin to count.  And no matter what is wrong in my life or in me, I KNOW I am better because I am a latter-day saint.  I hate to think of who I would be without these blessings.  I also know that generations past are counting on me - have been awaiting decades and centuries for me to finally be introduced to the restored gospel to begin the work of securing their eternal welfare through family history and temple work.

My mom joined the church three months before she died at age 83.  I have one sister who joined the church, but hasn’t been active in 25 years.  So I still feel kinda lonely in my membership.  I may have total confidence - aka FAITH - that there is life beyond the veil - but for the most part, it is only faith - not a LOT of knowledge - a little, a few distinct moments that have been quite profound - when the veil got thin enough for me to see for a flash beyond it - but for the most part, I rely on faith.  And I know, thanks to Roman, who was a half Jew, half Catholic, Polish Israeli American who refused to buy into any kind of faith, that faith is not automatic - for many many people it is not something they can embrace - so I now appreciate my faith as a tremendous gift.

I would have liked to see the look on Roman’s face too . . .

~Debra

July 2008 Sharing Times

New July Sharing Times have been added to the Primary KB. The July Friend is on lds.org in pdf format. This month I included some visuals, scripture word strips, a conference talk and a song chart that are mentioned in the Friend list of ideas, as well as the Friend articles mentioned.

New Primary MANUAL

There is a new Nursery Manual! Behold Your Little Ones. It is listed as a nursery manual, and I do wonder if we will be getting additional new Primary manuals soon. You can see it online at the Church Distribution website.

~~*2009*~~
So far I have not seen or heard mention of the 2009 Children’s Sacrament Meeting Presentation and Sharing Time Guide arriving in wards - if you get yours, please PLEASE let me know as soon as possible!

PIONEER DAY

The current Village Download Depot Club collection is a beautiful Pioneer collection by our wonderful photographer Courtney White.

And we have a beautiful pioneer art collection in our store,
with matching stickers.

More great Pioneer Day ideas can be found in our Primary KB.

VISITING TEACHING

In case you didn’t know, there is a free Relief Society membership at LDV
- and each month I design a Visiting Teaching Bookmark. You can get the July bookmark now.

NEW SONG

I wrote a new song! "What Would Jesus Do?" and with the help of my friend Jennifer Lerud, who did a lovely piano arrangement of it - I will be able to add it to the Primary Music KB next month!

My husband and I have been serving in the nursery for over a year now.  I think I really learn more than the children do.  I could probably write a book about it, and maybe someday I will -  but today I wanted to share something that occurred and what it taught me.

On January 6th, three of our older nursery children became Sunbeams, leaving only 4 little ones in the nursery with us.  That very first week, and every week since then, I have noticed just how much these younger children have become so much more talkative and expressive since the migration of the older children into Sunbeams.  Now, I do not for a moment believe that somehow the children’s communication skills magically improved over the New Year’s holiday.  Clearly, the little ones had been out communicated by the older children.  They had simply deferred to the older children - allowing them to lead and answer the questions, and take the focus in class.  That isn’t surprising, but it was such a marked change from one week to the next, that it was striking.  And so these little ones are stepping up to bat and having an opportunity for leadership.  Already we see it - they automatically know that they are the ones to comfort the littlest newcomer when she is bewildered by the nursery goings on.  It is really quite amazing to me.  Children who were nearly silent are Chatty Cathy’s now.  I had even wondered about some of them, thinking they may be slower in developing their speaking skills.  This was simply not the case.  We had some very outspoken demanding children move up - and when they did, the little ones now have a chance to shine!

I can’t help but wonder about my early experience in life.  Somewhere along the line, I went from being the youngest in my family where I knew everyone was smarter, and bigger and faster and more experienced than me, to a classroom full of peers, and over the next couple years, I realized that I was a leader of sorts.  By the age of eight I know I thought of myself that way.  I distinctly remember thinking that if the teacher was explaining something and someone else wasn’t “getting it,” I took it upon myself to raise my hand and ask, in their behalf really, for a clearer explanation, or I would say something like “you mean . . . ” and clarify what was not so clear to others.  Now I am 49, and I still do that.  Anyway - in high school I came to the realization that my willingness to answer questions and to ask questions didn’t always serve my classmates all that well.  They got used to me answering questions and just stopped bothering to raise their hands.  I hate that pregnant pause in class, at school or at church, in any setting - when no one wants to be the one to answer, for whatever reasons.  But I have learned to be more patient - so others will share too.

Now for the thing that just occurred to me.  I thought how the president of the church is the pre-eminent focus of all members and all the rest of the world.  The buck stops with the president.  That is how it is in most organizations.  And being in that position is completely and utterly different from any prior experience as an assistant, advisor, counselor, vice-president, committee chairman, or member.  There is something so weighty about being the final word.  And when you put on that hat, or mantel, it changes you.  In the church, when you are set apart in that calling, as with any calling, you are given the keys to administer in that calling - all you need to do your job - it is a remarkable blessing.

Upon the death or graduation or retirement, or simply the end of the term of one president, a new person takes on that role - and whatever they have done in the past, they have a new experience ahead of them in their new role - but the exit of their predecessor makes a space for them to grow and expand into.  And just like the little children in the nursery - that space is very important.  That opportunity is very important.  And until it happens, neither they nor anyone else watching may recognize what they are capable of.

Now, a new president and prophet will be stepping into the role as God’s key representative to the world on the earth.  I have zero doubt about what the Lord has been doing for his entire life - preparing him for this new role.  But until he takes up that torch, he will not really know what he is capable of, nor will we - and it will be amazing, as it always is, to discover with him how the Master has molded and shaped him for such a time as this.

I hated being left behind when the older kids flew the coop.  My oldest sister, Judy, was like a second mother to me.  She was nine years older than me and I adored her.  I remember each year during the Miss America pageant, I wondered what had gone wrong!  I had it in my head that a committee of judges went around the country finding out who the most beautiful, smart, talented girls were, and they were the ones in the contest . . . so I just couldn’t understand how they had overlooked my sister Judy!  In my mind there was no question at all that she was that girl.  Honestly - all the years I was growing up, that is what I thought.  So when Judy went off to college, I went into mourning.  That was the first in a long series of such experiences of being left behind, and I don’t like it any more now than I did that first time.

When my mom died, it was a very cold January day here in Utah.  My youngest son was living in Richland, Washington, and he had to ride a bus to attend the funeral.  I picked him up at the bus station - temporary bus station because it was just before the Winter Olympics and the bus station was moved way out west of the city - in the wee hours of the morning.  It was so cold.  I had been carrying the weight of caring for my mother as she was dying, and planning the funeral and seeing to many other matters - and in that cold darkness waiting for my son’s bus to arrive, I felt so alone.  I said to Mom - “Why did you leave me!?!  I am not ready for this!”  But I knew . . . she was ready to go.  She had lived a good long life and had deteriorated a great deal in the prior few years - both physically, mentally and emotionally.   A hurricane had blown away her town almost 10 years before, and 9-11 was completely bewildering to her a few months before.  She had given up worrying, or even wondering what the world was coming to - she just wanted to be free of it.  She had had her turn - she had buried her two parents and her in-laws and her husband.  She had been the one to carry on after they left.  She had been so alone, many’s the time in her life.  And as I acknowledged that, I stopped begrudging her the release she was now enjoying.

I guess President Hinckley’s maxim that everything would be all right came from 97 years of watching that happen over and over and over again.  How many crisis did he witness come and go?  How many beloved leaders and family members had left him behind to carry on without them?  And somehow or other, things did work out.  He’d watched it enough to see how doors closing in our faces allowed us to notice the open windows we had ignored, and to come to expect that they would always be there.  And in faith, he also knew that the fulfillment of prophecy is assured, and an ultimately glorious future lies ahead.  The only question being - what must I do today to make it happen?  How am I supposed to contribute to achieving that glorious end?  What lies within my power to accomplish?  And he went about doing just that his entire life, always expanding beyond his comfort zones, beyond what was the accepted standard before, for treading water is not what this gospel is about - it is a stone, cut without hands out of a mountain, rolling forth to fill the earth - and there is no standing still involved.  And then, reflecting on how each step along the way was purposeful and really did contribute to that movement down the mountainside - he courageously looked ahead to the next task at hand.

I loved President Monson’s report of how just days prior to his death, President Hinckley was actively engaged in the work.  And then he was done, and was released and in short order, long enough for his family to bid him goodbye, he made his exit, as he desired and had requested.

And in the huge space he has left, we have a chance to grow up.  Just like the little nursery children.

~Debra

This is my blog so I can say what I want.  I am sure everyone has a different personal response to the news we got - well, I got today, some may have heard last night - of the death of our beloved prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley.

I could not sleep, as is all too often the case - and got up about 3 AM to read - I am reading Jesus the Christ for the first time with much relish.  I got it into my head to look up information about the author - James E. Talmage - so I got online and first checked my email and saw a message from my brother in law with a link to the Salt Lake Tribune article about President Hinckley’s death.

I admit I was stunned.  Now how could anyone be stunned that a 97 year old man might die?  Well, I know know know that he has been sustained all these years with incredible strength, despite his years and his losses, and he has only slightly slowed down in the past few years - I most noted how straight he always stood up at the pulpit as a sign of his vigor.  And he continued to appear around the world at various temple dedications etc - looking perhaps older, but appearing!  Speaking!  Joking!  I just had it in my head that he was going to have a Centennial Birthday Celebration in 2010 that would awe the world, and continue to lead a 13 million member church, and the world beyond our ability to keep up, as he has been doing for so many years in the face of ever increasing world challenges.

Frankly, I cannot imagine anyone filling his shoes.  But then, I hear you all saying - no one fills someone else’s shoes, that’s not what it is about.  I hear you all saying, how much he missed his eternal companion and longed to be with her again.  I hear you saying he has earned his rest from mortality - I hear you saying the Lord always provides.  I hear you saying there is such comfort and beauty in our knowledge of the plan of salvation and eternal families - and in the order of church succession.  I know all that.  I mean, I really do KNOW all that too - I can say it as well.  But, I still feel a huge loss and feel bewildered.

I was telling Tim the story of how I met President Hinckley and he suggested we ought to blog our experiences.  So I am, in an attempt to work through my feelings.

In 1994, I was an usher at the Orlando Temple dedication - I already felt at home in that building as I had been involved in the open house, and was in one of the dedicatory choirs. But on that day as an usher, I must have run into President Hinckley three times - I always seemed to be in his way!  The first time was in the temple basement hallway.  - I turned around and there he was a few feet away from me - I was right in his path - I was caught completely off-guard, but I did shake his hand.  That was almost 14 years ago and at the time I was struck by how small and fragile he seemed - how weak his handshake was - and I never expected him to live another 14 years back then.

It wasn’t long before President Hunter passed away and Gordon B. Hinckley became the new prophet.  I read the wonderful biography written by Sherri Dew, and knew he had in fact had some health problems as a boy - and with my face to face with him, I wondered . . . but he was renewed again and again.  I have watched both my parents die of cancer.  I know what it looks like now - as someone is approaching death.  And I did not see it in President Hinckley.  I must conclude that since the Lord obviously could and has kept him going all this time in marvelous ways, and has answered the united daily prayers of millions to sustain him, when he was done with his mission, he was blessed to make a swift exit, which was an answer to HIS prayers.

While still living in the Orlando area, one year they broadcast the 4th of July Celebration from BYU to our stake center.  I attended.  Gordon B. Hinckley was the keynote speaker.  I remember giving him a standing ovation - something I only do when overwhelmingly impressed by something - and wanted so bad to yell out - “Gordon B. Hinckley for PRESIDENT!!!!!”  meaning President of the United States.

None of this is all that profound - but it is my personal experience, so I will mention it.  I also attended his 90th Birthday Celebration in the brand new Conference Center in 2000.  It was so marvelous - to be there in person.  And I really did believe I would someday attend his 100th birthday celebration.

I recently did a silly little thing.  I got online and looked up information about Catholic Popes.  I wanted to know the oldest pope there ever was.  Well, there have been a lot of popes, and I didn’t stick with it long enough to be sure, but I don’t think any of them ever lived to be 100.  And, in fact, none I found lived to be even 97.  It is totally meaningless, I know, but it was a trivia fact I was interested in.

No matter what tribute has ever been written about Gordon B. Hinckley - it was bound to be incomplete, because the next week he would announce some incredible new thing that no one believed could happen, and then it always did!  Now maybe we can read a comprehensive tribute of all he accomplished, of all the ways he touched and inspired and took time to assist or spearhead - whether it was a family matter, or a city matter, or a state matter or a national matter or a world matter.  Nothing seemed to go unnoticed or attended to with him.

We all know of the marvelous relationship he had with his wife and what a profound loss it has been for him since she passed in 2004.  But I have been thinking about his mother.  He lost her at a young age, and I know he has felt that loss his entire life.  As well as a brother who died quite young, and his father.  My father died when I was 22.  I have missed him more profoundly than I even can begin to understand, let alone express.  Now I have lost my mother - six years ago this month - and I will die myself before I am “over” that loss.

So of course there is a celebration going on in a place of sweet reunion.  And then I suppose he will be put into service.  If he could do what he did as an elderly mortal man for so many decades - imagine what he will be up to there!

Finally - a little ironic anecdote - the last time I got bananas a couple weeks ago, the only ones available were very green.  I pointed them out to my son - and he reminded me of President Hinckley’s comments about green bananas - how at his age, he couldn’t afford to buy green bananas as he never knew if he’d be around when they ripened.  We laughed at that bit of Hinckley humor.

This morning I ate one of those  bananas - and it was still green.

If you would like a place to share your personal memories of President Hinckley - please feel free to add a comment here.

I testify that Gordon B. Hinckley was uniquely prepared by God to serve in incalculable ways - that his call as prophet, seer and revelator was divine, that he was guided in all he did by our supreme Father in Heaven and what he said and did as the prophet was the will of God.

In the name of Jesus Christ.   Amen.

Ok, this has nothing to do with LDV really, but I’d like to get something started.  I spent the last two days making Christmas gifts for our kids/grandkids in Ohio.  I haven’t had time, but I have even less money, so I just had to stop my LDV work and make some gifts.  And despite feeling under the gun being so close to Christmas and also knowing I just can’t afford to stop working on the site, I really had a great time. So I’m going to tell you, AND show you what I did - and if you have something to share that you made this year, please add a comment and include a picture!

Nothing gives me more pleasure and delight than creating - which is why I love my work at LDV - but I kind of have this challenge - it started way way back in the mid 80’s when one Christmas I made all our Christmas gifts.  I holed up in our spare room where my sewing machine and fabric was kept, and if I couldn’t reach it without getting off the floor, it wasn’t going to be part of whatever I was making.  I saw these old Pooh Jammies - you know the ones - I think Sears sold them - I inherited them from my sister after her two boys had grown out of them, and they had gone through my two boys, and the feet were all worn out.  Too ratty to pass on to anyone else, I thought, “what could I make out of these old worn out one piece pajamas?  A puppet?  Sure, why not!”  So I made a puppet that looked like Bert from Sesame Street.  I had no pattern, and only used what I could reach from my spot on the floor.  His nose was part of a craft sponge I spotted - that was so fun.  And it really did look like Bert, although it was red rather than yellow.

So this Christmas, twenty years later, I was at it again.  I decided this was the year I was going to make a doll I remember having as a kid.  It was, for want of a better name, a 3-in-1 doll.  It was Little Red Riding Hood, and if you flipped her over hidden in her skirt was the other doll - Grandma!  And if you turned Granny’s night cap around, viola!  It was Mr. Wolf!  Cute as can be, and I loved that doll!

Again, no pattern, and no time to shop for any materials.  I don’t sit on the floor so well at my age, so I only restricted myself to my basement workshop.  If it wasn’t there, it didn’t get included.  First I looked for materials.  I found fabric for skin, a dress for Little Red, her hood and apron, Granny’s night gown, and Wolf fur.  I knew I was going to have fun.  I found a spot of bare table top and laid out my skin colored fabric and just started sketching with a pencil the shape of the body.  It had a head and arms at both ends.  I cut it out and stitched it together, leaving an opening to turn it right side out and add the fiberfill, which was conveniently in the same room.  Well, I won’t bore you with all the details, but honestly, I found everything I needed in that room - except for some blush for the cheeks.  I use real makeup on dolls and puppets, and that was NOT in my basement workshop.

Here are my pics:

First is Little Red with her hood on - I don’t have a good camera so I scanned her

Her hair was interesting - I used some of that twine we used to make macrame plant hangers with back in the 90’s - I used my son’s hairbrush to brush it out to look like hair.  Luckily there was a bin of old craft paint and some brushes, so I painted her eye and lips.

Next is Granny

Whoops!  I see I lied.  Her shawl - it is a piece of antique lace from a box of lace I inherited from my grandmother - and that box was NOT in the basement, but in my office upstairs.  Luckily I had some flannel for her nightgown left over from a quilt I made a couple years ago for a new grandbaby.

And finally Wolfy - he didn’t scan so well

It was a trick to make his head with no pattern.  You may notice that Granny’s hair is the same grey fake fur as the wolf face - which was nice since her hair just lead into his face.  His nose is a pompom I sewed on and his eyes are two white buttons.  I drew on the pupils with a permanent marker my son had brought home from work, and it was in the room since the room doubles as a tv/video/playstation area for him.  I did use the bathroom right off the workroom to rinse out my paint brush and to borrow Max’s hair brush.

I should have made Granny’s nightgown fuller to accommodate the arms of Little Red underneath, and the dresses should have been longer to cover the top of the head of the opposite side doll, but all in all, I was quite tickled with how it turned out.

I made three “door snakes” for our three kids in Ohio - a request from our son Michael who has cold air leaking from under the door - with a new baby, he wanted to keep that cold air out.  I had no pattern but just started cutting some brown and cream checked flannel I had - made tubes with one end rounded.  We didn’t fill them with wheat or rice or sand because that weighs so much to ship - so I had to make the other end have a hole where they could be filled, yet would close to keep the filler inside.  I left a flap and sewed across leaving only a little hole to push a funnel into to load the tube.  Then I put velcro on the flap so after filling you could close it, and then open it again to empty and wash.  I tried to think of a clever name - and I DID!  In fact, it is so clever that I won’t tell you in case I decide to market them.

I had some cute fleece - and with four grand daughters to make presents for, I made the three youngest ones little hoody towels with matching wash cloths.  I had this awesome shaggy chenille in hot pink - which I used to make the oldest girl a poncho - the reverse side was a cute pink and blue puppy fleece.  I also made one of the girls a stuffed kitty out of the same hot pink chenille.  One got the Little Red Riding Hood doll, and I made a set of bean bags and a tossing can and tote bag for the other girl.

All that stuff was too big to scan on my flat bed scanner, so no pics!

Well - that was all I had time for - and the basement was a total disaster with pink chenille fuzzies everywhere.  My mom used to come into my room when I was a kid to see my latest creative play and pronounce it looked like a cyclone struck it.  Did your mom ever say things like that?  Well, she was pretty close to accurate - and I haven’t lost my touch!

I boxed and labeled the presents and got them to the post office - we have a new one here in Saratoga Springs - there was no one in line!  I was THRILLED - till the lady told me the mail got picked up at 3 PM - and it was 4.  Oh well - she said she thought it would still get to Ohio before Christmas.  Here’s hoping she was right.

And when I got home, I even cleaned up all that sewing debris.  AMAZING.  Without being hounded by my mom and everything!  I reflect that I am about the age she was when I had my own Little Red Riding Hood doll.   But I still keep thinking she will clean up after me like she did when I was a kid . . . I still much prefer playing to cleaning.

Now I want to hear from you.  Tim told me he also spent a couple days making Christmas gifts.  I imagine some of you did too - so at least tell us what you did, and if you have pictures, I want to see them!!!

From one busy elf to another,

Debra

In Vancouver, Washington designing/building scenery for “With Mine Own Hand” - A new musical, telling the story of Nephi.

This was a production conceived by my dear friend Ramona Zabriskie - a project she and her friend Becky Alexander have been laboring over for 15 years - and when she called asking if I could take over the set design a few months ago, I was thrilled for the opportunity.

The cast was well into the rehearsal period when I arrived from my home in Utah just two weeks before the show opened. I had been so busy with Latter-day Village that I had really done very little in the way of designing the show before I arrived. The basic platforms had already been planned and soon were up, ready for finishing at the Vancouver Stake Center. I was the house guest of an assistant director, Lori Williams, who I met a few minutes before I went to sleep that first night. As it turned out, Lori is a professional costumer, unbeknownst to Ramona. Divine intervention was at play, for we ended up creating much of the set with fabric! I could never have done it without Lori’s constant expert help.

Here is a photo of the Tree of Life we toiled over so carefully - the picture cannot do justice to the impact of it appearing aglow on stage to the gasps of the audience.

After performances, families came up, wanting to touch the tree and have their picture taken in front of it. It turned out better than any of us even hoped.

I took my laptop to try to continue to work on the website while in Vancouver - but I obviously was not to be dividing my focus, for it completely failed to work for me, and before I knew it, I hadn’t a spare moment to spend on anything but making the scenery.

It was a special treat to see Ramona’s husband Dale on stage again as Old Nephi - as he recalled and wrote his history on the plates. Dale and Ramona and I met when we were all 18 at the Playmill Theater in West Yellowstone, Montana - and I had hardly seen him perform since then (except to sing and do skits etc). He did a marvelous job. As did his son Grant, who played Young Nephi. Grant was so scared as a little boy to even give a talk in Primary, so watching him take the stage so powerfully was awesome.

The cast, production staff and their families helped immensely in the construction of the set. Between large amounts of sweat, a good share of tears, and bloody knuckles, punctured and blistered fingers - and with much duct tape, hot glue, plastic ties, and an old faithful staple gun, we put our blood, sweat and tears into the scenery and of course the whole show. It was a wonderful production!

The Director of Cultural Arts for the church flew up from SLC for the final performance and spent a lot of time after the show sharing his impressions - that it was a triumph in effectively sticking with the scriptures verbatim in a dramatic production - that the testimonies of the performers were so powerfully felt by the audience - that every aspect of the show was so carefully attended to.

The show was filmed by Ramona’s son Chris, and the DVD can be ordered now at http://www.nephi-story.com. The script will soon be available for future productions. The music is fabulous. It was an honor to be a part of it and meet so many dear and talented people.

Debra

I was born and raised in Ohio and didn’t join the church till I was almost 17. I came out to BYU a year later. I’ve lived in Ohio, Utah, Idaho, Montana, Washington and Florida since then. So plenty of time has been spent in both what I will refer to as Mormon Country, and what a lot of people call the “mission field.” For years I served in the Primary. I always developed my own materials. My best friend and I would go to the nearest LDS bookstore and she would always say something like - “Oh Debbi, you ought to write a book with all your ideas.”

Honestly - this is kind of embarrassing, but, in 1992, I did one of those beauty make-overs/glamor shots dealy things at Nordtrom’s or somewhere down in Florida. When I saw the photos, I thought to myself - “This looks like an author’s photograph you see on a book jacket.” And I got it in my thick skull that someday that picture WOULD be on a book jacket. I had ZERO idea what the book would be about - but it was like this kind of knowing I had - it was going to happen - sooner or later.

So a few years go by and I am called to be Primary President in my ward. I develop this program - right off the bat - first week - I call it Primary Scripture Search. It takes a few weeks to iron out the wrinkles, but in general, I’d take a scripture reference from the primary outline for that month, and come up with a search - something the children would have to look up in their scriptures somehow to figure out. I passed these out on little slips of paper before Sacrament Meeting. The children would work on them as they sat there in the chapel. Then afterward, they’d run up to me and hand them in. I saw whole families feverishly flipping through their scriptures before the meeting started to find the answers. Before long, the children in our Primary really knew how to use the Topical Guide and footnotes etc.

When I was released, I had already prepared a lot of the searches and activities for the upcoming year. I decided to see if I could sell them on the internet. My boss set up a webpage for me on their server. I got a very few orders. Then one day I was in the stake offices and noticed the stake Primary President had the new outline for 1998 in her box. I admit it, I sneaked a peak. The theme was “I Know the Scriptures Are True” and the instructions said leaders should teach children to use the Topical Guide and other study tools in the LDS scriptures. I felt like the spirit knocked me over - I had to sit down. I knew right then that I HAD to publish a book - a Primary Scripture Search book for 1998.

So I hunted up LDS publisher email addresses and contacted about seven. I heard back from three or four, including Deseret Book. They wanted a sample but insisted there was no way to get the book out before the start of the year. I said it was of no value whatsoever unless it was available before the start of the year. But I prepared my sample. Then I heard from a small publisher who was ready to print the book ASAP. That is how I started writing books.

I got to attend the annual LDS Bookseller’s Association Convention in Salt Lake City the next year. I was so overwhelmed! Yet, a lot of people came up to me and acted like they knew me - all because of my website! It blew my mind. Marvin Goldstein called me the Primary Guru.

Well, that was a long time ago. In web years - it is almost pre-historic. The thing was, I got free internet with Netzero. I got a free browser and web editor from Netscape. I had a free webhost in my employer (two brothers - Clayton and Alan Chevrier - from my ward who basically said as long as I didn’t bug them with too many needy questions I could have my site on their server for free). My publisher covered the cost of printing my books and marketing them. So with no monetary investment, I suddenly had a web business.

I realize that the LDS market is tiny compared to the rest of the world. But every time I have considered creating materials targeting a wider audience I feel absolutely no desire to do so. Tell you what - writing and web design were very late entries in the “What Debbi likes to do” line up. I would say art and music and mostly theater are what I had invested so much of my life toward - but none of them ever made me much money. Now I had a book to put that ol’ Glamor Shot photo on - and I was actually earning some money. Not much, but some. It is very creative work - I love it - but what I really love is that it is gospel oriented. That combination - creative and gospel oriented - is what sets me on fire.

So some people have criticized me for charging money for what I spend my full-time effort doing. It is material for people serving in church callings, for the most part. That really bothers some people. Tim and I have been accused of “extorting” money from latter-day saints because we charge for our materials. This is a simple case of economics. My house costs money. The food I eat costs money. The car I drive runs on fuel that, unfortunately, costs money. There is no end of sources demanding that if I want to do almost anything at all, I will have to fork out some money to do it. Well, where am I to get that money? Same place the vast majority of people get their money. They have a job - they have a business. They are employed. My choice of employment is Latter-day Village. It doesn’t even pay my house payment frankly. I guess it is a compliment that people assume we make tons of revenue and have sizeable incomes - but that is absolutely not the case. I could no sooner live on my income from LDV than I could having an average newspaper route. But I work as much at it as anyone works at their full-time job. For awhile, my elderly mother lived with me and together we got those proverbial ends to meet. When Mommy died, she left all of us a nice inheritance. I bought a house - or was able to get a mortgage I should say. Now all that money is gone. I got married to Jerry and moved to Ohio. My husband had a job at the time, it was a new job and they started him off at half what they usually pay - to see how it would work. Just about the time he was supposed to get that big raise, we moved back into my home in Utah and for a year and a half, he has been struggling to get his business going in a new state. It isn’t happening fast enough. On the verge of losing our home, he has taken on two jobs. So that’s us.

We sell LDS stuff. Mostly the stuff we sell is to help people in their callings. A lot of it is online material or digital download material. I create a TON of original material. I choose to publish it digitally rather than make 12% or less on royalties from printed books I often only had three weeks to write. Tim has gathered material from teachers in the field for ten years. He has organized it and maintains a huge number and variety of software programs that make LDV useful to people. We pay a lot of money for our server and all this software. We pay a lot of money for our hardware and supplies. If someone else can do all that without charging, there is a reason for it. They are being supported by a well salaried spouse or an institution or business or advertising revenue, or are independently wealthy. That is a blessing to both them and those who benefit from their efforts. Tim and I don’t have those advantages.

As poor as my husband and I are - we love movies. The other day I went through our accounts and figured what we were spending on various types of expenses. I was surprised how much we spent on movies! We go to the cinema 1-4 times a month (usually matinees) except for a few months when even that was out of the question. We rent DVDs from Netflix, occasionally Hollywood Video, and now Redbox. We do not have tv service. So maybe we watch more movies than most people. Still, it is a lot of money. When I look at that, and realize that most people pay for cable or satellite tv, and buy DVD’s and go to evening cinema for full-price - we probably spend less than a lot of people just to watch a screen for entertainment. So while I have no doubt many people are on a tight budget, I see that LDV offers people wonderful material that is conveniently organized at a remarkably low price.

I also realize that a lot of women derive a huge amount of satisfaction and sense of contribution by serving in their callings. If they are stay at home moms, their callings are one of the most public forms of expression they have. If they work outside the home, mostly it will be at something far removed from gospel service. So again, their callings are very important forms of expression in the lives of LDS women.

I propose that no one needs to spend money to fulfill their callings. Nor do they need to hunt the WWW to find ideas. The spirit will reveal what they need and provide all they need. So if anyone feels they are deprived because they cannot afford to buy stuff at the bookstore, church distribution or from online sources - they sell the spirit short. On the other hand, I have really enjoyed many things I have been able to purchase that have helped me with my callings and just spiritual development. Frankly, I can’t get enough - there aren’t enough books to read, there isn’t enough music to listen to, there aren’t enough films to watch, there isn’t enough art to adorn my home - I want more and better choices than I currently have.

So I will leave the general Christian market to someone else. I will leave the general education market to someone else. There are PLENTY of options already available in every area of life. Except our LDS gospel centered world - there isn’t enough. The quality begs to be improved as well as the quantity. So as I learn how to do things better, I am happy to offer it to my fellow latter-day saints and hope it will enrich their lives. If I can’t offer something better or different, I don’t want to bother - so I work hard to have something better or new.

Blogging is - I don’t get the huge attraction to it - but I guess there is something visceral about it that people like. - These are things I have not known how to express to our internet audience - so maybe this blog will work for that.

I’ve been over all this with the Lord for years. It has been my path for whatever reason, and a better path has not been found - I’ve tried! I just figure I will keep at it until some other path clearly reveals itself to me. When someone takes a minute to write in a thank you - believe me - it makes my day - it makes Tim’s day. I never tire of what I do - though it is pretty late and I need to go to bed.

TTFN
Debra