A Christlike Attribute

I spoke at church today.  I attend the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  It is part of our routine for members of the congregation to be invited to speak and provided with a general topic.  The following text is the t talk I gave today.

In Matt. 11:29 the Savior says “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart and ye shall find rest unto your souls”.

My assignment is to speak about a Christlike attribute and given Elder Bednar’s talk from the April General Conference Titled Meek and Lowly of Heart. So, it seems that of the many attributes the Savior exemplified, meekness is today’s topic.  It might possibly top the list. 

So, what is meekness?  A world view might equate meekness with weakness, or lack of confidence.  It might be thought of as apathy. He entreated us to “take his yoke upon ourselves”.  This imagery intrigues me.  A yoke is a beam of wood carved to fit across the shoulders of two beasts of burden – usually oxen or possibly horses. It binds the two animals together.  Are we to think of ourselves as beasts of burden?  Are we to see the Savior’s “yoke” as something to bind us and restrain us?  What else does a yoke do?  I looked it up.  Individually an ox can pull its own weight between 1500 and 3000 pounds.  Two oxen yoked together who work in tandem can pull up to 13000 pounds.  So, with the Savior as my yokemate I can manage tasks that would otherwise be insurmountable. 

He also says “take up my yoke and learn of me”.  An inexperienced ox yoked to an experienced one will learn from that guidance and association.  A weak animal can be strengthened by being yoked to a strong one.  If you think about it, can you think of a more humbling, sacred, experience than to be bound in such a way that you walk side by side with Jesus Christ?

So, again, what is meekness?  It is being willing to do the work without insisting that I have the control.  It is working beside the Lord or any of his servants in a spirit of cooperation.  Picture what happens if you yoke two mules together and they each want to drive the wagon.

Elder Bednar said that meekness is characterized by: 1) righteous responsiveness, 2) willing submissiveness, and 3) strong self restraint.  Elder Bednar relates the following story from the Book of Mormon.  Moroni was the captain of the Nephite armies who were besieged.  He wrote multiple letters home – to Pahoran asking/pleading for support for his troops but the support does not come.  Finally, in frustration he sends a letter to Pahoran condemning him and the other government leaders as slothful, neglectful, and uncaring.  Promising dire retribution from the Lord.

It turned out that Pahoran had been forced to flee into the land of Gideon taking as many men as he could, leaving Zarahemla under Lamanite occupation.  Pahoran was not in any position to assist Moroni’s army.  I can just picture Pahoran in temporary living quarters, possibly wounded, surely having lost nearly everything including people he cared about, receiving this letter of censure.  If it were me, I’m afraid my temper would get the better of me.  But Pahoran says this:

Alma 62:9 And now, in your epistle you have censured me, but it mattereth not; I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness of your heart. I, Pahoran, do not seek for power, save only to retain my judgment-seat that I may preserve the rights and the liberty of my people. My soul standeth fast in that liberty in the which God hath made us free.

Let’s check his response for meekness:

1.      Righteous responsiveness – does he tell Moroni to take a long walk off a short pier?  In fact, it seems pretty righteous to me that he was able to respond at all.” No, Pahoran “rejoices” in Moroni’s “greatness of heart”.  He doesn’t think "I will just forgive him for all his faults", he sees and recognizes Moroni’s strength.  He takes the time and has the wisdom to know where the passionate pleas were coming from.  It is easy to dismiss people when they are in the wrong and go off feeling smug that you were the right one.  It is far more difficult to recognize and empathize with a person’s intent even when they are wrong.

2.     Willing submissiveness – Pahoran isn’t lamenting his loss of status or power.  He doesn’t “seek for power” just to be able to protect and serve his people.

3.     Strong self restraint – well, nuff said.  I think that one speaks for itself.

Jesus referred to himself as “lowly of heart”.  Sometimes the language in the scriptures just confuses the heck out of me.  Why on earth would I want to be “lowly of heart” And just what does that mean anyway.

In a general conference talk from 2007, Bruce D. Porter of the Seventy said of being lowly of heart: “Those who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit are willing to do anything and everything that God asks of them.” I contend that to be “lowly of heart” is to be humble and teachable.  I’m a teacher.  It is my job to teach those students who react to the world with anger and distrust.  Many of my students don’t believe in themselves or anyone else.  It is a kind of hopeless, helpless pride that destroys all efforts at learning and the only way to get past it is to firmly and lovingly gain control of the student’s environment to make it an undeniably safe place.  It would be fair to say that the metaphor of the yoke applies once again.  I need to be that student’s partner, guide and advocate so that they can be safe enough to let their broken hearts show.  Then the contrite spirit follows and the learning begins.

Preach my Gospel

Humility is willingness to submit to the will of the Lord and to give the Lord the honor for what is accomplished. It includes gratitude for His blessings and acknowledgment of your constant need for His divine help. Humility is not a sign of weakness; it is a sign of spiritual strength. When you humbly trust Him and acknowledge His power and mercy, you can have the assurance that His commandments are for your good. You are confident that you can do whatever the Lord requires of you if you rely on Him. You are also willing to trust His chosen servants and follow their counsel. Humility will help you as you strive to be obedient, to work hard, and to serve selflessly.

Okay, if we take up his yoke and are meek and humble what then?  I love the way the Savior always gives a promise along with his admonition.  If we follow the word of wisdom we will be able to “run and not be weary and walk and not faint.”  If we “do always remember him” we will “have his spirit to be with us” And, as the quote says, if we take up his yoke, in a spirit of meekness and humility, we “shall find rest unto our souls”.  Hmm.  Do I want “rest unto my soul?”  and when does that happen?  Is it a description of my eternal reward after death or is it a promise for some time sooner? 

President Joseph F. Smith said: “To my mind, it means entering into the knowledge and love of God, having faith in his purpose and in his plan, to such an extent that we know we are right, and that we are not hunting for something else, we are not disturbed by every wind of doctrine, or by the cunning and craftiness of men who lie in wait to deceive. We know of the doctrine that it is of God, and we do not ask any questions of anybody about it; they are welcome to their opinions, to their ideas and to their vagaries. The man who has reached that degree of faith in God that all doubt and fear have been cast from him, he has entered into ‘God’s rest’”

See, my theory on the plan of salvation is that this earth is a training ground.  We are here to learn the skills (or attributes) of the Savior and become like him and each time we gain one of those skills we also reap the benefits from those skills immediately.  If we gain and become adept at approaching life’s challenges in meekness we will be comforted and calm in the face of them.  Sometimes the Lord calms the sea but sometimes he calms the sailor.  I couldn’t find where that quote came from but I may have to have it tattooed somewhere to remind me to partake of God’s rest.

In closing, I bear witness the Savior knows about and cares about all of our challenges.  He wants to guide us, he has invited us to walk beside Him to learn his methods and feel his love.

#52 Stories - FAIL

First
Attempt
In
Learning

The question posed is "What role has failure played in your efforts to achieve your goals?

I'm no stranger to failure and can easily attest to the value of tearing down a thing so that what is subsequently built back up is stronger.  When I was a senior in high school I went to school for one class (Civics) and then drove from Lake Tahoe to Reno (actually Sparks) to go to the Prater Way School of Cosmetology.  I did this every day until graduation.  After I completed the courses I worked in the beauty shop at the MGM Grand until Anna was born. Then we moved to Winnemucca, NV.  I worked first at Judy's and then at the Scissors' Palace, and last at a shop whose name I can't recall.  I left Judy's when Brenda was born, I left the Scissors' Palace because I was not making enough money to pay for the gas to get there, and I left the last one because I couldn't get along with the owner.  It is tempting to roll out all of the reasons and wherefores but the bottom line is that I really didn't succeed at cosmetology. I had a number of other jobs over the years to keep the bills paid.  They weren't intended to move me closer to my goals, just to keep the wolf from the door.  I tried a number of ways to supplement the money I made, cake decorating, sewing, ironing, delivering balloons.  I could add a few dollars but not make a living.

Lesson #1 - I am not a salesperson.  I could have made lots more money as a hairdresser (cosmetologist) if I had been able to sell my services and the shop products to people.  I had the skill - there were never any complaints about the work I did but it was not enough.

After we moved to American Fork I got serious about wanting to go back to school.  I applied at BYU and was rejected so I went to Utah Valley Community College for one semester. Then my husband died and the kids and I moved to Sandy, Ut.  I enrolled in the University of Utah majoring in Psychology.  My original goal was to become a psychologist (requires a PhD.)  I got good grades and in the meantime changed my goal to Social Work.  So I applied to the School of Social Work.  I was denied.  After that I decided to become a Child Life Specialist.  I finished a dual degree in Psychology and  Human Development and Family Studies with a 3.84 GPA. Then I began an unpaid internship at the Primary Children's Hospital.  It was really a struggle for me.  I am a shy person.  This job required me to work with many, many different professionals as well as children who were critically, sometimes fatally, ill.  I wasn't good at it and I was asked to leave.  This failure broke my heart.  I did LOTS of praying after this experience because I had sincerely loved working with the children. By this time I had remarried and was again active in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. One of the great blessings of the church is the opportunity to serve in callings that give you experience in a variety of areas.  I served in many teaching capacities.  As I served in the Primary (children ages 3 to 12)  people said to me "You are so good with the children.  You should become a teacher."  I always responded, "No, I don't want to do that".  I went to work part time in a drug and alcohol treatment center for adolescents.  Nope, that particular place wasn't my niche either.  Then I worked for United Cerebral Palsy (and I delivered pizza in the evenings).  I caught some flack about U of U graduates becoming pizza delivery drivers but I loved the work with the families and children of UCP.

In February of 1999 I moved to Minnesota.  I went to work for Adventures Plus, a school age day care program run by the Community Education branch of Anoka Hennepin School District.  That worked for awhile, until it didn't.  Again, I enjoyed the kids.  I ended up working as a paraprofessional at Hamilton Elementary in North Minneapolis.  I loved it, but the teachers there encouraged me to get my teaching license. 

Lesson #2 - It is often necessary to refine my goals.  Sometimes it is necessary to completely redefine my goals.  Sometimes it is necessary to get out of my own way and listen to the message the Lord is sending me and let him direct my goals.  At age 40 I had finally figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up.  My joy is to teach. (Duh!)

Minnesota has stiff requirements to get a teaching license.  The number of courses I needed to complete to qualify for a teaching license was enough to get me a master's degree in education.  I completed the courses at Saint Mary's for a teaching degree in education and was licensed to teach Kindergarten through 8th grade with a language arts focus for middle school.  These courses were completed in the evenings while I continued to work at Hamilton.  When it came time to student teach I was loathe to give up my job at Hamilton so I could student teach for 6 weeks full time without pay.  I proposed a plan to my supervisor at Saint Mary's where I would spend part of my day at Hamilton student teaching.  It required me to devise a schedule to cover the necessary time and competencies for the course. This needed to be approved by supervisors in both settings.  It was an unprecedented approach to student teaching.  I'm still proud of the assertiveness it required for me to propose and complete such a plan.

Lesson #3 - I learned problem solving and perseverance. It is always necessary to explore options. Being told no is neither scary nor shaming.

At that time, it was difficult to find a job as a new teacher. The baby boomers who were expected to begin retiring had lost ground in their retirement plans because of the "economic downturn".  So they kept working.  The Minneapolis School district was downsizing to the tune of $90 million dollars.  Hamilton hired me to teach Kindergarten for a year and then the school was closed.   I went to the job fairs and applied for dozens of jobs in more than 7 school districts.  I was trying to avoid AH11 because I had left Adventures Plus in failure mode. Finally I admitted defeat and applied to the largest school district in the state for a job.  What I quickly learned was that special education teachers were getting hired.  

I went back to school. (See lesson #2 - He wasn't done with me yet) I was hired as a special education teacher to work half time at Madison Elementary and half time at Morris Bye Elementary on a licensure variance while I completed my teaching license in special education with an Emotional Behaviors Disorders (EBD) focus.  Again, this was enough coursework to qualify me for a second masters.  I declined to finish the final piece for the masters at either school because I was afraid it would price me out of the running as a second year teacher. The principal at Madison Elementary was Cindy Hitt.  I thought she was a control freak but (thank the Lord) I was mature enough by then to try to learn from her controlling ways.  I learned a lot from Cindy Hitt and she became a mentor and a friend.  I also gained two more of my closest friends, Amy Franke and Laura Voorhees.  Both of these ladies went out of their way to help me succeed.

Lesson #4 - Allow people to help.  (I still struggle with this one)

 Once I went to work, I was too busy to finish the thesis required for my masters. I worked at Madison Elementary until 2012. For 3 of those years I was the Special Education department lead for the building.  A new principal and a new department lead at Madison marked the time for me to move on.  Morris Bye also had a new principal and needed an EBD centerbase teacher.  Centerbase (CB) classes are setting III.  This means that the students spend 60% or more of their time in the CB classroom apart  from their non-disabled peers.  I spent 4 years in this setting.  It was hard.  I could go on and on about how difficult this setting was but that is not the focus of this entry.  In the end, I failed in a spectacular way.  I had a full emotional breakdown.  I was suicidal and afraid I would hurt one of the children.  I could not stop crying.  I took a medical leave of absence and got some counseling.  I discovered what real friendship is at this point.  My friends rallied around, we had lunch dates and chats on the phone.  One friend swooped in and taught my primary lesson (with about 10 min. notice) because I had a meltdown at church.  My friends who are teachers or administrators gave me good advice and I received help from the teachers' union.  It was the absolute hardest thing I've ever done and that is saying something (but that's another story).  When I was ready to return to work, the doctor did not release me to go back to the setting III.  The district tried to say that this meant I was disabled and I would need to go on full disability at 70% of my salary.  After conferring with the union the district agreed to allow me to sub until the end of the year and then apply during the in-house application window to find a new job.  The only way they would agree to this was with the caveat that if I failed to find another job I would have to leave the district.  It was a horrible time.  

Lesson #5 - Everybody has limits.

During the job application window my mother was put in hospice care at my brother's house in Lake Tahoe.  She died a few weeks later. My father had multiple surgeries for cancer, and I broke my ankle. In the meantime I applied for more than 40 positions without a single response.  Some of my previous supervisors had heard that I was subbing and had contacted me to do some long term subbing at schools they worked at.  The principal of the school where I was working in May had posted 3 positions so I applied for all of them and talked to him about my applications.  When 2 of the positions had filled from outside the district I went back to him to remind him I'd applied.  The teachers I was working with expressed the hope that I'd be returning.  He did not respond to me but I received a call from the district that morning informing me that my application had been blocked at the district level.  No one had seen any of my applications. The union had my back, though, and I had our agreements documented.  It took a whole summer of wrangling, hand wringing, praying, and waiting but I was finally placed in Mississippi Elementary school as a resource teacher.  The staff at Mississippi have become my friends.  I'm happy there and am nearly back to my old self emotionally - older and much, much, wiser.

Lesson #6 - God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Reinhold Niebuhr




I know it seems like a dangerous thing to say outloud but I am grateful for my failures and my challenges.  I have faith that my Father in Heaven has a plan for me and that my Savior will help me get there if I am willing to do my part. 

#52 Stories - I can do it myself.

Before the course

My mother told me that my first full sentence was "I can do it myself".  This week's question asks me to relate something I taught myself to do.  There are a number of crafts, etc. that I have investigated and used books or the internet to teach myself to do them.  I can't in honesty say I am good at many of them but I find joy in the learning process.  When I get inspired by something I dive in.  But I digress.

One of the things I basically learned on my own is how to decorate cakes.  When my children were small I wanted to create wonderful, memorable cakes for their birthdays.  I loved to bake and wanted to create beautiful things.  As I mentioned, when I am inspired by something I tend to dive in.  We lived in Winnemucca, NV. at the time.  For the uninformed about western geography, Winnemucca is a smallish town in the middle of Nevada - a solid 200 miles from any dot on the map most people might have heard of.  We didn't have a Michael's or any other place to take lessons but I did pick up a Wilton cake decorating magazine somewhere.  I don't remember where at this point. The magazine offered a correspondence course in cake decorating!  I had so much fun!  One memorable practice cake I made was for one of our weekly game nights with the Browns.  They came to our house to play cards, or Risk, or something of the kind (awesome memories).  I think the cake looked pretty good but I had experimented with a cooked frosting recipe.  When we went to cut it I actually had to break through the frosting to get to the cake - it was distinctly rocklike! HA!  I've gathered up a few of my early efforts.

Brenda's 5th birthday cake.  This was the "final exam" for the course.

After that I started doing cakes for people who asked me to. When we moved to Utah I worked in a bakery in American Fork, then in a bakery in Smith's decorating cakes.  After moving to Minnesota I was invited to teach Wilton cake decorating at one of the Michael's stores.  It was lots of fun.

Here are a few of my more recent efforts:

#52stories - Goals & Achievements

My Sunday School lesson today was on the blessings of keeping a personal journal.  For a time, this blog was my journal so I am determined to resurrect my motivation to keep a personal journal.  My goal is to write every Sunday afternoon (at least).  In preparing for the lesson, I came across the #52stories movement on familysearch.org.  They provided 12 questions under 12 different topics for people to write about to create a personal history.  I love the writing prompts and encourage anyone who has talked about writing their personal history and hasn't gotten around to it to check it out. 

The question I have chosen to answer today is: "What is your earliest memory of feeling proud of yourself?"

I remember being an indifferent student at school during the primary years.  I wanted to be liked but didn't care much about being good at school. I went to Kindergarten and first grade in Bountiful, Utah.  I don't remember the name of the school, but I would bet that Diane Jensen does. By third grade I had begun to realize that I had the ability to be a good student.  I remember feeling very good about getting good grades. I had also discovered that I liked to learn new things.  I had moved to Lake Tahoe by then.  I was attending Zephyr Cove Elementary School.  I don't remember all of my teachers but my sixth grade teacher was Mr. Barsness.  He was an encouraging teacher with a great sense of humor. He used to trade all of the silver dollars for paper ones when we paid for our lunches.  He put the silver dollars in a coffee can until he had enough to buy a new radio.  We were all anxiously watching the process and waiting for the new radio.  Finally he had enough money and he bought this shiny new radio.  First thing in the morning he caught all of our attention and turned it on.  In those days radio's had to be tuned with a knob.  All we heard was static until he began to turn the little knob.  Then, clear as day the words "
Jockey Underwear" came singing from the speakers.  We laughed so hard that some kids fell out of their seats.  Mr. Barsness put his head down on his desk and laughed so hard that the blond hair on his scalp turned pink as his scalp turned bright red!

I am 3rd from the right on the front row.

A Tribute to My Mom.

Hazel Marian Smith Barnwell was my mother.  She passed away last month and I was blessed to have the opportunity to clear up old business, enjoy some quality time, and say goodbye before she died.
My brother and I are all that is left of that particular family unit so we worked together to arrange a fitting sendoff for this unique woman.  After the service several people asked me to send them copies of the talks and slideshow.  I am posting that information here in order to share it with anyone who is interested.

Life Sketch by Jan Oelkers
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For those of you who might not know me, I’m Jan – the middle child.  I know that, typically, a life sketch includes all of the born to and married when info and I will give you a little of that but most of all I want to discuss what being Marian’s daughter has meant.

When I tell a story I believe in portraying all of the beauty of an event in the context of the painful in order to truly appreciate the achievement when the final outcome leads to joy.

So mom’s story is a poignant and beautiful one and I'm grateful to have this opportunity to tell you why.

To begin, we are a “get it done” family.  My mother’s great great grandfather joined the LDS church in Denmark and came to this country bringing with him a culture of love and support for family that mom was taught from her first breath.  Mom would say “family is family” which meant that if there is family around that needs something you will do whatever you can to help.  Her childhood was spent in a household where there was there a steady stream of extended family all around.  Add to this that her father tended to bring people home when they needed help as well.  I could be wrong in my interpretation of this but from what I’ve been able to observe my Grandparent’s business was a Mecca for family members who needed work and thus loving family was ever present.

This is a wonderful blessing and a curse.  When there are many well meaning helpers around there are also many opinions and expectations. Mom talked about how proud of her her father was, how he would have her “recite” for people.  A favorite story she told me was about the time her father brought home a flat of strawberries and told her he would really like some jam. Then he left her alone to take care of it.  Now those of you who have had my mom prepare a meal for you might be getting a picture of little Marian in the big kitchen at the house on South Temple up to her elbows in strawberries – and the incredulity of the image.  Let’s just say that cooking was not really my mom’s favorite thing.  She once watched my children for a week and fed them nothing but 18 wheeler sandwiches from the corner gas station – but I digress. She managed to make the jam.  She has never included in the story how the jam  turned out. What she has always said was how it felt to have her father show that confidence in her and then praise her efforts.  From my perspective this little story that she liked to tell me was important to her because she craved that feeling of being trusted and seen as competent.

Now I’ve seen the pictures.  The Smith children had pretty clothes and my Grandmother was, of course, proud of her beautiful children.  You might accuse me of being biased but in truth, my mother and aunts were stunning women. Being pretty and being thin were very important.  For my mother weight management was a lifelong burden.  I don’t think she ever put anything in her mouth without being burdened with conflicting emotions.  If she was thin and eating nothing but boiled chicken and celery then every bite was almost a penance for the sin of having eaten something that tasted good in the past and if she was binging every bite was a failure and foretold a life of loneliness.  In mom’s head she wasn’t lovable if she wasn't thin and pretty and she never felt like she was thin enough. Because of this she often pulled away from people she loved, she wasn’t sure she was good enough.  So, knowing this I am always amazed when I realize how often and completely she opened her heart to people.  My mother could strike up a conversation anywhere.  She made friends easily and often. .

Mom was an original she had many loves in her life and each of those was a new era.  Mom was a 16 year old army wife in Virginia, and the wife of an artist turned realtor, she was the wife of a bartender and then she was the wife and caregiver when her husband’s health failed.  She brought three children into the world,  my sister Brenda and my brother Bill and myself and in likewise manner she loved, provided for, worried about and sorrowed over my step brothers Dave (Huggy) and Tom. 

She had nine grandchildren and 15 great grandchildren. But she was the memorable Aunt Marian as well.  As in all areas of her life, her approach to the children she loved was often unique – remember the 18 wheelers.  In typical fashion she won the heart of my grand daughter by providing a full makeover.  Something our Elodie will never forget.  By sister’s daughter summed it up for me by saying “when Grandma played with you she really played with you.  She got down on the floor and got into the game”. When she gave a gift to a child she always wanted it to be as close to the “real thing” as was reasonable (well her definition of reasonable).  If you want some fun stories talk to her grandchildren today,  they have some doozies.  She loved to play with the daughters more than the grandsons because she could completely relate. But she was so proud of and amazed by her grandsons and sometimes seemed surprised when they loved her back with the same devotion.  Mainly, though she was pretty excited when her grandsons grew old enough to dance with her at weddings.

The final weeks of my mother’s life may have been the sweetest, most enlightening time I’ve ever spent with her. We were able to just appreciate each other without being impaired by trivia.  She ate all the chocolate she wanted with a joy I will carry with me.   I will backtrack just a little to tell you that I have had several loved ones turn 80 over the past 2 years.  I had the blessing of helping arrange a birthday party for my mother in law.  When I realized what a treasure that celebration was to her I wanted so much to do that for my own mother.  My outgoing, red hot chili pepper mother didn’t want that.  It took some work for me to realize something from that.  In all of my mother’s larger than life approach and glamour and big heartedness she really did not like to be the center of attention. She was a one of a kind in a world that often does not appreciate uniqueness and she wasn’t entirely sure that a big party in her honor would be attended only by people that understood that.  She was mistaken but I got my way.  We’re having a party now, and Mama you deserve to be the star of the show. Mama left this life understanding that she is a child of God.

I will address a few final few words to my Mama.  I am proud of your many, many triumphs.  I couldn’t possibly stand here and tell the full story of your colorful, sad, beautiful, triumphant life. I’m a little miffed that you never wrote the memoir you threatened to write but I am inspired by the realization of how many, many times you pulled yourself out of and climbed over the challenges to go on and do something sparkling.

 Musical Number - Ben & Elodie Oelkers

When I was small my Grandma Anna taught me a Danish children's song she learned from her mother who must have learned it from her mother. My brother remembers my mother singing this song to him as a lullabye.  We have included this song because it represents the tender moments between mother and child that we treasured.  The translation of the song itself is:

Get up little Hans
Get up little Hans
Listen- the lark is singing!
No little mom
No little mom
That’s the door creaking

Eulogy by William Barnwell 


--> Hazel Marian Smith Barnwell passed away peacefully in her home in Zephyr Cove Nevada on April 17, 2016 – Born February 25, 1936 to Hazel Anna Sorensen Smith and William Frank Smith of Wendover Nevada. Sister, Aunt, Mother, Great Great Grandmother, world traveler, philanthropist, reformed shopaholic, glamorous movie star to those who knew her, and self-proclaimed golf widow has gone home to our Lord peacefully surrounded by loved ones here at home in Lake Tahoe Nevada. Marian, spelled with her fabulous M, was a 50 year resident of Zephyr Cove Nevada. She started her career as a cocktail waitress at Barney’s Casino here on the south shore where she raised three of her own children for some time as a single mother. Later married to Thomas Gerald Benton Barnwell, AKA Lefty, raising his two sons as well. Her hard work and tenacity always present, she was able to purchase two condominiums in Roundhill and raise not only her children but scores of stray kids and animals. A woman whose vocabulary never included “no” as she replaced it with “how”. Owner of two separate local favorites The Velvet Hammer Tavern & River Boat Casino in Roundhill and Stateline, Nevada, she later went on on to serve as Vice President for the Stateline Hotel & Casino, Silver Smith Casino, Stateline Properties, Jims Enterprises, and HAS associates. Board member and administrator of the William & Anna Smith foundation that helped to provide college educations for countless scores of Wendover High School graduates; wanting for others what she was unable to attain for herself. Born to a hard working Danish immigrant and rugged coal miner turned Nevada gaming pioneer she had hospitality in her veins. Her door was always open with a light and television always on.  She would love to sit for hours talking to anyone about what was going on in Hollywood. When she was not dreaming of Hollywood she would often live it by traveling to exotic locations later in life, sewing and creating her own costumes, performing makeup on her granddaughters (and anyone that would let her) and purchasing scores of costume jewelry and props. With a love for all forms of entertainment she loved to dance, sing, and walk the streets of San Francisco with her dog Cupid where she was able to live, laugh, and love for many years. Renting a vacation home on top of Russian Hill she would host amazing fleet week parties from her lavishly decorated roof top garden designed by her daughter in law Tina Hoy Barnwell. Always up for adventure and a free spirit Marian’s boundless energy could hardly be slowed by her diagnoses of CHF and COPD which she recently fought hard, recovering from Pneumonia then finally succumbing to our Lord’s will. Marian is survived by her sister Carol Smith Johnson (Darrel) of Rush Valley Utah, brother James William Smith (Eve) of Salt lake City Utah, daughter Janell Oellkers (Monte) of Saint Francis Minnesota and son William Frank Barnwell (Tina) of Zephyr Cove Nevada and grand children, Angie & Andrew Arrien, Gina & Terrell Gregory, Ben & Jenna Draper, Sara & Josh Griffin, Anna Pratt & Stan Williams, Brenda & Derek Udy, Bill & Stephanie Oelkers and Gunnar Barnwell.  Her legacy also includes great grand children, Drew, Avery, Gaven, Gracie Arrien, Nolan Gregory, Brynlee, Alana, Isabelle Draper, Rion & Addy Griffin, Xavey and Daevius Udy, and Ben, Elodie, & Eilonwy Oelkers.  She was preceded in death by her daughter Brenda June Draper and Sister Billie Ann Devine . Researchers now believe that English is a Scandinavian language and Hazel the Scandinavian word which means the blending of the perfect colors which embody the best of blue green and brown. So if you knew Marian then you knew she helped color your life perfectly! 
Gunnar Barnwell - Video Tribute
  

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A Few Thoughts on Birth and Death

This has been a pivotal year in my life. My sister passed away a year ago at the end of January, my aunt passed away in August, and my mother passed away in April.  I am composing this in the airport on the way home after her "send off".  At this point I'm refusing to use the term funeral for the event we shared yesterday but I will explain that further later. In addition, between the time my sister passed and my mother passed, my son and his family were sealed in the Holy Temple for time and all eternity and my youngest grandchild was born. Without going into gory details I will say that these markers in my life have been akin to Toad's Wild Ride. 

As I sit here today contemplating tomorrow I feel a unique peace and hope. One of the enduring truths brought home to me from these experiences is that a life that includes joy will also include hard work of the physical, emotional AND spiritual kind.  When Brenda passed I said goodbye to a constant in my life that I had taken for granted.  The experience lit a fire under me to examine how I spend my time and whether my limited time and energy are being spent in a way that brought me the joy promised in 2 Nephi 2:25 which reads "Adam fell that men might be and men are that they might know joy" I found myself going to work thinking "it is actually possible I could die today or next week or a year from now. Is this the way I want to spend the rest of my life?"  The answer was no and the solution was a painful one but SO worth the journey.  In short (too late) the loss made me well aware of my own mortality and I examine the things I do with my time more carefully now.  I still fill my time as completely as I did before but I fill it with things that add to my "bucket" (See Have You Filled a Bucket Today? By Carol McCloud). I erased all but one of the games on my phone and replaced them with photo collection and  family history apps.  "Downtime" is spent going through photos and collecting family stories.  I can't seem to shake the feeling that the task set for me is to focus on the stories that are disappearing rather than on the work that has not been done yet for those who have passed.  I hereby gratefully thank those who are focused on doing the work for the dead that I have not made the priority at this point. The day after my sister's funeral I attended the sealing of my son and his wife and our 2 grandchildren with one on the way. What an incredible message of renewal and permanence my Savior sent me for the day after a painful ending. 

My mother's health, physically and emotionally, tanked after my sister's death.   She was not well enough to attend the wedding when my sister's youngest daughter married in August, and was barely able to attend her own sister's funeral later that month.  When she entered the hospital in February with a case of pneumonia we were all preparing to lose her then. She surprised us all, as usual, and recovered and went home.  She came away from that experience with a renewed sense of hope and zest for life.  We had several wonderful conversations on the phone that eased my heavy heart and I had the great blessing of being able to spend my spring break with her.  We talked and laughed and watched British comedies.  We looked at pictures, shared stories both funny and poignant and generally enjoyed each other's company.  On my last day there she began to decline.  Less than a week later she fell and was rushed to the hospital again.  My brother and his wife and I talked with mom and her doctors and decided to have mom enter hospice care.  For us this meant taking mom off all medications except those that made her comfortable and letting nature take its course.  This was a life changing decision process for all of us.  My brother has been her caregiver for about a decade and the concept of not rescuing her when she began to fail was so very foreign to him.  He agreed with his logical mind but his breaking heart just could not step away.  I went to Tahoe to try to be whatever support I could both for Mom and for Bill and Tina. 

Before we left the hospital we had a group conference call.  Fifty two people were invited to join.  I'm not sure how many actually joined but it was an amazing family reunion on the phone.  Everyone had a chance to talk to mom.  We received a family prayer from Pastor Paul.  The next two days were very hard but the hospice nurse, Heather, came to help.  She walked us through what the process would look like and sound like.  She helped us with the physical as well as the emotional and respected and supported the spiritual.  She helped us see that this process is just another kind of birth.  Birth isn't always pretty or dignified but it is essential and powerful and wonderful.

By Easter Sunday Mom was awake and eating, asking for her favorite things and cracking wise. She was rallying once again.  We spoke of important things, we cleared up old resentments, and we expressed our love and appreciation for each other.  And we said goodbye.  I went home to Minnesota.

My brother and his wife took a much deserved trip to Hawaii that had been given to them by a friend and my daughter, Brenda, came to be with Mom.  Mom enjoyed her week with her grandchild and then spent the final day of her life speaking with those who had pre deceased her. I believe, like every starlet, she knew when the best time for her to exit the stage was.  She knew my brother and I would grieve and that my sweet Brenda is one of the toughest women (with the gentlest heart) who ever walked and she chose her time.

I have learned so very much from this experience. All of my adult life I have been afraid that my mother would die a painful, lonely death.  The process is as beautiful and natural as the process of birth.  The brief opportunities I had to provide her with care and support toward the process are not undignified they are precious and intimate. I thank God with all my heart that she died knowing she is loved and appreciated by her family and that she is a precious daughter of God.

God is at the Helm

I had the opportunity to speak in Sacrament meeting today.  I've decided that when I and mine do that I would like to record our thoughts in this chronicle to share:  

Sometimes God calms the storm. Other times, he calms the sailor. And sometimes he makes us swim. Anonymous

God is at the helm.

Elder M. Russel Ballard spoke in the last General Conference about the good ship Zion.  It was a wonderful, inspiring talk that set me thinking.  Now, I’ll share with you why I Iove teaching the ll and 12 year olds.  They ask great questions.  One of them asked what the word Zion meant, at this point I realize I have to find a balance between answering all of their questions and keeping the lesson on course, so we defined the word for the purposes of our lesson which was as the city of Enoch, but the word Zion is also defined in the (D&C 97:21) as the “pure in heart” and in the Oxford Dictionary it is defined as the kingdom of God or the church.  Whichever definition we are looking at, Elder Ballard reminded us eloquently that “God is at the helm”. God is in charge of directing the building up of His kingdom. 

  I am tempted to say that it is too big a job for one person but the reality is that if he could create the earth then flood it, part the red sea, destroy Babylon, and hear all of our prayers all of the time He probably has the power to take the helm and direct it where he wants it to go.  The problem with that plan is that he would need to take our agency from us to do that and that would negate the purpose of the plan of salvation. So, if you have a really large ship full of sailors, all of them seeking the right direction and individually responsible for where they end up.  Add to this that many of them are inexperienced and impulsive,  what would you need for them to have in order to guide them safely into harbor? Watchmen.

Ezekial 63:  The Lord tells Ezekial...

2 Son of man, speak to the children of thy people, and say unto them, When I bring the sword upon a land, if the people of the land take a man of their coasts, and set him for their watchman:

3 If when he seeth the sword come upon the land, he blow the trumpet, and warn the people;

4 Then whosoever heareth the sound of the trumpet, and taketh not warning; if the sword come, and take him away, his blood shall be upon his own head.

7 So thou, O son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me.

Elder Ballard said “make no mistake about it; the lord directs His Church through living prophets and apostles.”  

How grateful I am for the prophets, both ancient and present day who have dedicated their lives to the service of God and the building of His kingdom.

And what do they warn us to do? In the last conference, a few of the admonitions that inspired me were to read the scriptures, to be worthy of the temple, to serve others, to honor mothers and women, and to keep the sabbath and always, always to make Jesus Christ the center of your life.  If I choose only one of these challenges at a time to focus on how much more joyful will my life be?  

What if I do those things?  If I read the scriptures I will find the answers to questions I need, I have been promised protection from the adversary for doing that one simple thing.  If I serve others I build  friendships, bolster families, and even help  myself as I recognize my strengths through service. When I honor the mothers and women in my life and around the world I feel an amazing connection with the sisterhood we belong to.  I can’t begin to express the amount of love I’ve received from the Relief Society, the things I’ve learned and opportunities that have been realized. And when I live a Christ centered life I can count on being able to find peace even when the storms rage.

Still, the prophets and apostles are men and  they are on the good ship Zion, holding on for dear life, just as we are.  We are all here to make a few (or in my case a lot of) mistakes and to learn from those.  Our prophets and apostles are not perfect.  My grandmother’s brother was a general authority.  My father’s memory of him is that he was a “fire and brimstone” kind of guy.   As may have happened to some of you, I have sometimes disagreed with or wondered about  decisions made by our leaders (so far, not the prophets) but I hope I never criticize.  My job is to use my agency and my right to personal revelation to find understanding. Then to forgive and forget any mistakes and humbly accept direction from the Lord through his watchmen.

Remember that service as a leader in the Church of Jesus Christ even though it comes with  a powerful priesthood authority (the same authority that created the earth and parted the seas) is not about dominion. 

Moses 1:39 

39 For behold, this is my work and my glory--to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.

The good ship Zion is for those who are pure in heart and unified of purpose.  These gentle men who serve the Lord by lighting our way do it for the glory of god – to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.

I testify that Thomas S. Monson is a prophet of God.  He is called to lead us in our time through the challenges as well as the joys that are unique to this dispensation.  I am grateful for him and his counselors and apostles as watchmen.  I’m grateful for their wisdom and love as they use the Lord’s will to select the leaders I will encounter directly.  I am grateful for our stake presidencies and bishoprics for their service and dedication on my behalf.

And I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen

Crossroads

Over the 56 years of my life I've faced many crossroads.  Sometimes I've chosen well and other times I've learned from making distinctly poor choices.  In recent weeks I've reached yet another crossroads in my life and have come to recognize something about my own process in these challenges.  First, when the goal I am working toward is something I really want I can be determined (read: stubborn) to the point of self destruction about not giving up.  I can rationalize that I, "haven't worked hard enough, haven't tried long enough, or haven't tried every option"  I look back at the struggle and see every effort toward progress I made that didn't pan out and I tell myself I've made "mistakes" and if I could only keep trying long enough to not make those mistakes everything would be great. Next, when I finally hit the wall (read crash and burn) I spend a great deal of time beating myself up about not making it.  My first marriage was this kind of an experience.  Out of respect for the dead I will not chronicle the details here except to say that he was a loving, sweet and funny guy who had an illness far too damaging for either of us to cope with.  I lasted 11 years in that marriage.  When I looked back at the experience I beat myself up for a long time for not making different choices about it.  But from that marriage I gained some of my most precious spiritual gifts.  I learned to understand people who are not able to be rational at that moment.  He was the one diligently seeking to find the true church of Jesus Christ and he invited the missionaries into our home.  I responded badly to that invitation and it was because of Dan I continued to hear their message.  I learned the truth of the gospel because he wanted so much to know it.  Without that relationship I may never have known the joy of belonging to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. From that marriage I was also blessed with 3 of the most beautiful, smartest, and most loving children ever given to a parent.  I firmly believe that each challenge we meet and learn from is followed by a blessing that matches the scope of the sorrow you endured with an equal portion of joy.  My second marriage is such a relationship.  Monte is the epitome of common sense and rational behavior.  He is my reward. (Makes me wonder why he is saddled with me but it's not my problem ;-)

Other crossroads have been when I was working on my bachelor's degree I had decided that I wanted to be a Child Life Specialist and I threw my whole heart into that- serving a 3 month unpaid internship.  I spent long hours translating medical procedures into Spanish that could (hopefully) be understood by Spanish only speaking children so that they could be prepared for the precedure and reduce the trauma.  It turned out the hospital setting was not really a good fit for me.  I was so sad and convinced myself that I hadn't managed to gain any marketable skills (duh!) 

I went to work in an elementary school and discovered that working with children was my gift.  The Lord had been aiming me at teaching since I joined the church.  I had served many teaching positions with both children and adults but always found myself returning to teaching children.  I also spent the next 15 years working with elementary children, obtaining degrees in teaching at the elementary & middle school levels and in special education.

Now I've reached yet another crossroads.  My special education license is working with emotionally and behaviorally disabled students which is what I have done for the last 10 years but I have hit the wall now.  The burnout rate is high in my profession and it is now my turn.  I am taking a medical leave of absence to figure out that part of my crash and burn has been to feel that I have failed.  I failed my students, my husband, and myself.  It has taken me a full month to clear the fugue enough to recognize that 10 years of teaching represents a success not a failure.  It is just time to choose my next path.  Now that the clouds are clearing I remember that the Lord guided me to where I needed to be on multiple occasions.  If I keep my promises to Him he will prepare a way.

Pouting and Potato Salad

     I had a craving for potato salad on Saturday and boiled some eggs and potatoes with that goal in mind.  Then I got distracted with something else and my husband indicated he wanted to have the famous pork and beef roast (an Oelkers family favorite) for dinner on Sunday.  This means boiled potatoes, or mashed, and gravy which then leaves potato salad sort of extraneous.  My mother in law, Anna, came to dinner on Sunday.  Anna, of course, noticed the boiled potatoes sitting on my counter and offered to help me make the potato salad.  I am not proud to say it but I didn't respond to this offer with the gratitude I should have.  Then I felt bad and it took me a full hour to work through what the problem was.  

     What I realized after pouting about the potato salad for awhile is that potato salad is one of those recipes that everyone makes a little differently and it becomes a staple for family get togethers.  This means that it is one of those recipes that evokes pleasant memories.  What I had done was play with the pictures for awhile, particularly ones of family get togethers that included my Grandmother Anna and I'd started to think about the potato salad she used to make.  I don't have her actual recipe but, over the years, I've developed my own including some of the things I remember about hers.  She always put sour cream in her potato salad, red onions, and (I think) dill pickles.  Anyway,  that is the way I like it.  So, when she offered to "help" make potato salad I got all defensive like I'd have to make her recipe if she was making it.

     Anna Mae makes great potato salad. I like it almost as much as I like my own - but not better.  What I do know is that her family likes her potato salad enough to sometimes make less than diplomatic comments about any potato salad that is not hers.  This is me learning not to be distressed by that.  My recipe (my grandmother's) is not less desirable than Anna's it simply does not evoke the same nostalgic emotional response in the hearts of her loyal children.  Once I had worked my way through that realization I also came to be aware that I am hoping to preserve some of these nostalgic feelings through pictures, stories, and recipes.  While I trecked around the country gathering pictures and stories I also gathered some favorite family recipes.  I am in posession of my Great Grandmother Dorcas' recipes for banana bread, danish dumplings, aebleskivers, raisin filled cookies, etc.  I am also in posession of several of the Oelkers family's beloved recipes as well, and nowww I also have Anna Mae's potato salad recipe.  We made her recipe together and I wrote it down (because, of course, her comment was "I don't have a recipe")  I will share because it truly is a good potato salad recipe.  AND because I love the Oelkers family.  Someday in the near future, maybe, I will make my recipe and share it in like manner.  - By the way, if any of my cousins are reading this and you DO have Grandma's potato salad recipe please share.  

Here goes (keeping in mind that the amounts are approximate):

4 pounds boiled red potates - peeled and diced

10 to 12 boiled eggs - chopped

4 medium scallions (green onions) minced fine - not too much of the green please ;-)

2 stalks celery - chopped small

Dressing:

3 c. mayo

2.5+ tablespoons mustard

2 teaspoons salt 

½ teaspoon black pepper

Thank you Anna Mae, the potato salad is delicious and we made a memory making it together.  THAT is what family is about.

It All Comes Around

Years ago, when I worked for a school age day care, I had gone to some trouble to organize an activity around investigating their family history. One young man scathingly responded, "Those people are dead. Why do I care about this?"  I remember struggling to articulate the connection and curiosity I feel about my ancestors. Why do I care?  

My son, Bill, came to visit today and brought his children with him. We spent hours chatting about children, schools, computers, pickles, and egg cake (go figure) but finally came around to sharing some of the photos I gathered in my travels.  I was struck anew at how often we said "Look how much he/she looks like . . ." and "I remember when we . . ."  We noted that my grand daughter has the same crooked smile found on the faces of 2 of her grandmothers.  My father's elementary school class pictures proved that the mid-forehead hair swoop found on my own head and that of all of my children was my dad's hair swoop first.  

And, most tellingly, a draw toward creativity/artistry runs strongly through our lineage.  My father is an artist, his mother and her sister were artists. Whether that desire toward creativity comes from each generation sharing their own interests with the next or from a genetic predisposition, I believe there is undeniably a genetic componenet to true talent such as my Grandmother and her sister passed along to my father and he passed it to his son, my brother.   The point is, as the love comes back around and one generation spends that precious time with the next, we pass along that which we love.  A visit to my Grandfather Jensen's house would have meant a fish fry and time in the garden.  That was what he loved.  A visit to my father's house for my children would have meant paint or clay or drawing tools were likely to make an appearance.

Today, when my grandchildren came to visit my first thought was for us to create something (I'm not an artist)  We made a fairy garden!  I was reminded of the art projects my Grandmother Va and I had created at this lovely glass table - this table that was passed down to my father, just like that love of creating beautiful things.