I have found scriptural based evidence for naming children!
Verse twelve:
12And behold, I am called aMormon, being called after the bland of Mormon, the land in which Alma did establish the church among the people, yea, the first church which was established among them after their transgression.
So there you have it, folks. Go ahead and name your children after geographic locales. Though I would recommend sticking to the name of the place you were married, or baptized or the like. For example, all my children will be named Mesa, or some variant.
And now, back to the paper. sigh.
Showing posts with label churchy stuffs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label churchy stuffs. Show all posts
Friday, December 10, 2010
Monday, November 08, 2010
erm...
So remember that time when Sunday was daylight savings time in most of the civilized world? Well, I somehow missed that memo.
Perhaps I just ruined the punch line for the story I am about to share, but here goes anyway.
*Beep*Beep*Beep*
Oh how I loathe the alarm clock, but I have made a goal to start getting up earlier. I obeyed the alarm clock (aka phone) yesterday. Got up, started the shower to get it warm, possibly turned the heat up a bit, to create a sauna-like bathroom, etc.
I have been accused of taking long showers, but I really was trying hard to be on time for church today, because usually I'm late. So when I was almost ready, and saw my bathroom clock reading 9:30am, I went into super duper quick mode, and made it out the door ten minutes later. This Sunday was a bit more complicated, as the Old Time ensemble was playing for the North Carolina Music Educators conference at three in Winston-Salem, which meant I would get to lug the mandolin around church (it's almost cold now! boo.) and then high-tail it out there to find the conference center in downtown Winston. Then back to the Friend's house for dinner, then the CES fireside, and then home to a starving Max the Cat. And as I've already digressed, as I was driving home at about 10pm last night, there was a little black kitten on the side of Freeman Mill. I was [this close] to stopping and saving the poor beastie. But I thought that 1) Max the Cat would loathe me even more and 2) Cousin Paul would increase his 'cat lady' commentary to my life. [His most recent was asking if I wanted another cat for Christmas. Bless his heart.]
Okay, back to the story.
I finish getting ready in record speed. Get out the door. Get to church in a decent time, though about ten minutes late. I make the last turn, slow down to enter the parking lot, and see that there are. no. cars.
See, there are three wards that meet in the building. This is up from two when I first moved here. They haven't quite learned how to share the building. It's not like its been two years or anythings. (cough. cough.) As such, the east side of the building is my ward's side. Granted, there were a few rebellious car parkers, but the normally full lot, was mostly vacant. It was then I began to suspect something. But hey, I got a pull through spot! Sweet!
I grab the mandolin, and my church bag, lock the car and rush in as quick as my heels allow.
I hide the mandolin in the foyer so I don't have to carry it in the Chapel, walk in. And find. no one.
I thought stake conference was the 20th. What the heck is going on?
And then, a little fact wiggles into the fore of my brain.
Crap.
Well, at least I was early for church once.
I wandered the halls for a full fifty minutes, in my successful attempt to avoid being asked to give a prayer (don't tell me you've never done that - okay, maybe not for fifty minutes....) and enjoyed the rest of my meetings.
Perhaps I just ruined the punch line for the story I am about to share, but here goes anyway.
*Beep*Beep*Beep*
Oh how I loathe the alarm clock, but I have made a goal to start getting up earlier. I obeyed the alarm clock (aka phone) yesterday. Got up, started the shower to get it warm, possibly turned the heat up a bit, to create a sauna-like bathroom, etc.
I have been accused of taking long showers, but I really was trying hard to be on time for church today, because usually I'm late. So when I was almost ready, and saw my bathroom clock reading 9:30am, I went into super duper quick mode, and made it out the door ten minutes later. This Sunday was a bit more complicated, as the Old Time ensemble was playing for the North Carolina Music Educators conference at three in Winston-Salem, which meant I would get to lug the mandolin around church (it's almost cold now! boo.) and then high-tail it out there to find the conference center in downtown Winston. Then back to the Friend's house for dinner, then the CES fireside, and then home to a starving Max the Cat. And as I've already digressed, as I was driving home at about 10pm last night, there was a little black kitten on the side of Freeman Mill. I was [this close] to stopping and saving the poor beastie. But I thought that 1) Max the Cat would loathe me even more and 2) Cousin Paul would increase his 'cat lady' commentary to my life. [His most recent was asking if I wanted another cat for Christmas. Bless his heart.]
Okay, back to the story.
I finish getting ready in record speed. Get out the door. Get to church in a decent time, though about ten minutes late. I make the last turn, slow down to enter the parking lot, and see that there are. no. cars.
See, there are three wards that meet in the building. This is up from two when I first moved here. They haven't quite learned how to share the building. It's not like its been two years or anythings. (cough. cough.) As such, the east side of the building is my ward's side. Granted, there were a few rebellious car parkers, but the normally full lot, was mostly vacant. It was then I began to suspect something. But hey, I got a pull through spot! Sweet!
I grab the mandolin, and my church bag, lock the car and rush in as quick as my heels allow.
I hide the mandolin in the foyer so I don't have to carry it in the Chapel, walk in. And find. no one.
I thought stake conference was the 20th. What the heck is going on?
And then, a little fact wiggles into the fore of my brain.
Crap.
Well, at least I was early for church once.
I wandered the halls for a full fifty minutes, in my successful attempt to avoid being asked to give a prayer (don't tell me you've never done that - okay, maybe not for fifty minutes....) and enjoyed the rest of my meetings.
fhe
Tonight for FHE I read first, President Uchtdorf's message to the YW, Your Happily Ever after. For the last bit, I listened to his most recent talk, found in the video here. As a side note, I am posting this directly from the conference webpage. How cool is that??
Thursday, November 05, 2009
response to: how to get free chocolate
See here for what spurred this post. It was getting waaaay too long to leave in the comment section.
Read if you dare. It will be tangential, and long winded, and definitely stream of conscious. But, what else is new?
To Miss Scarlet:
Wow, you're a little bossy. :P
Haha, and, I did give myself a pat in the back.
AND, I've thought a lot about what we talked about (not stressing, etc.) since Monday, and I think this (book reading) has a direct relation to it.
I think I'll write a post, [which I am now doing] too, but because I sometimes take forever to write something, I'll give you my two cents about reading books.
I LOVE BOOKS. Remember that time when we still need to talk about Catching Fire? And there's a whole year until the next one that comes out? Or Tuesday night, instead of doing my homework, I read the Castle book? [I did get it done later....] ya... But do you know what?
1) My books (and my crocheting) literally were the only things that kept me at all sane last year [or at least some semblance of sanity], when I first moved out here.
2) Reading teaches one so much about life lessons, and helps one to see and hear new stories and ideas and use one's imagination. I think that it is an amazing gift that we can give ourselves that will help us in whatever we end up doing in our life.
3) Sometimes I do read more than one book, and I do have a stack of books that I need to read, and many that I want to get so I can read them. I love going back to old books like old friends. The first time I read a story, I read it just for a story. Then it's because I love the characters. I eventually will also read because of the way an author writes. That's when I know that a book has become a part of me. Does that make sense? For me to be able to step away from the story, and to see how a story is written. I love it.
I don't know if this is helping you with your problem.
Sorry, more practical.
When I'm reading more than one book (lately it's more likely that I'm listening to one story, and reading another) I sometimes have to turn the page back, to remind myself exactly what's going on, but I think you'll find that you become immersed in the story quick enough.
I've heard people who have the book in the car, purse, bathroom and bedroom, so that wherever they are, there's a book for them to read, so that they're never without.
My family is like that. We'll actually fight over books. Especially the parents. The only time I can remember them 'arguing' (besides pillow theft of course) is when one steals the other's book before they have finished.
My grandpa papa is currently needing to build more shelves (but not in the closet) to hold all his books.
Hmm, now I'm getting tangential.
Enough with the books. More tangents.
So on Monday, we decided to worry less, no?
My last transfer as an hermana, me and the comp decided (because we both tend to be little stress-balls) made it a goal to have fun every day. And to achieve this goal [see what good little missionaries we were? :)] we were going to do something as simple as take a picture every day.
I cannot tell you what a difference that made. Some of those pictures are my favorite pictures I own. Many times we would ask the random people we talked to if we could take a picture with them.
There's the one of us with the man, by the pine tree. There's the one with my head cut off of me and Kate with la pastora. Or the cows in the swampy land... But I digress.
It worked. We had fun. And we were still able to work hard.
As I was being driven by a member to Tampa to be booted out of the mission, our friend who was driving related something she'd heard about us. One of the members said that they knew we were good missionaries because she could always feel the Spirit around us, and that we were always so happy together. I wish that I could remember the exact words, because it illustrates my point. And my point is, we had an outlet for stress. And eventually we stopped stressing. And then we started having fun, even. And I think that the Spirit is more able to work with us, and be there with us, when we are not caught up in concerns, be they ever so big, or ever so small.
So, back to books, if books are something that helps you have fun, and thus more fully experience the Spirit in your life, I say go for it.
The other thing that I would suggest, is making it a simple goal. for example, the photograph thing? That was not something hard, that really interfered with missionary work. If it was, I think it would have caused more harm than good, by causing more stress. For example, maybe saying, I will allow myself at least one hour of quality time with my book a day. It's enough for your outlet, but it's not so much that it would interfere with school work, and thus cause you more stress.
And that, my friend, is my response. Super long, and probably doesn't help you too much with your book problem (sorry!) but I think refers more to paragraph three.
And to those who actually made it through - any thoughts or suggestions for me or Miss Scarlet?
Read if you dare. It will be tangential, and long winded, and definitely stream of conscious. But, what else is new?
To Miss Scarlet:
Wow, you're a little bossy. :P
Haha, and, I did give myself a pat in the back.
AND, I've thought a lot about what we talked about (not stressing, etc.) since Monday, and I think this (book reading) has a direct relation to it.
I think I'll write a post, [which I am now doing] too, but because I sometimes take forever to write something, I'll give you my two cents about reading books.
I LOVE BOOKS. Remember that time when we still need to talk about Catching Fire? And there's a whole year until the next one that comes out? Or Tuesday night, instead of doing my homework, I read the Castle book? [I did get it done later....] ya... But do you know what?
1) My books (and my crocheting) literally were the only things that kept me at all sane last year [or at least some semblance of sanity], when I first moved out here.
2) Reading teaches one so much about life lessons, and helps one to see and hear new stories and ideas and use one's imagination. I think that it is an amazing gift that we can give ourselves that will help us in whatever we end up doing in our life.
3) Sometimes I do read more than one book, and I do have a stack of books that I need to read, and many that I want to get so I can read them. I love going back to old books like old friends. The first time I read a story, I read it just for a story. Then it's because I love the characters. I eventually will also read because of the way an author writes. That's when I know that a book has become a part of me. Does that make sense? For me to be able to step away from the story, and to see how a story is written. I love it.
I don't know if this is helping you with your problem.
Sorry, more practical.
When I'm reading more than one book (lately it's more likely that I'm listening to one story, and reading another) I sometimes have to turn the page back, to remind myself exactly what's going on, but I think you'll find that you become immersed in the story quick enough.
I've heard people who have the book in the car, purse, bathroom and bedroom, so that wherever they are, there's a book for them to read, so that they're never without.
My family is like that. We'll actually fight over books. Especially the parents. The only time I can remember them 'arguing' (besides pillow theft of course) is when one steals the other's book before they have finished.
My grandpa papa is currently needing to build more shelves (but not in the closet) to hold all his books.
Hmm, now I'm getting tangential.
Enough with the books. More tangents.
So on Monday, we decided to worry less, no?
My last transfer as an hermana, me and the comp decided (because we both tend to be little stress-balls) made it a goal to have fun every day. And to achieve this goal [see what good little missionaries we were? :)] we were going to do something as simple as take a picture every day.
I cannot tell you what a difference that made. Some of those pictures are my favorite pictures I own. Many times we would ask the random people we talked to if we could take a picture with them.
There's the one of us with the man, by the pine tree. There's the one with my head cut off of me and Kate with la pastora. Or the cows in the swampy land... But I digress.
It worked. We had fun. And we were still able to work hard.
As I was being driven by a member to Tampa to be booted out of the mission, our friend who was driving related something she'd heard about us. One of the members said that they knew we were good missionaries because she could always feel the Spirit around us, and that we were always so happy together. I wish that I could remember the exact words, because it illustrates my point. And my point is, we had an outlet for stress. And eventually we stopped stressing. And then we started having fun, even. And I think that the Spirit is more able to work with us, and be there with us, when we are not caught up in concerns, be they ever so big, or ever so small.
So, back to books, if books are something that helps you have fun, and thus more fully experience the Spirit in your life, I say go for it.
The other thing that I would suggest, is making it a simple goal. for example, the photograph thing? That was not something hard, that really interfered with missionary work. If it was, I think it would have caused more harm than good, by causing more stress. For example, maybe saying, I will allow myself at least one hour of quality time with my book a day. It's enough for your outlet, but it's not so much that it would interfere with school work, and thus cause you more stress.
And that, my friend, is my response. Super long, and probably doesn't help you too much with your book problem (sorry!) but I think refers more to paragraph three.
And to those who actually made it through - any thoughts or suggestions for me or Miss Scarlet?
Thursday, September 24, 2009
dreams
I must've woken up and gone back to sleep this morning, for I remembered my dream. I never remember my dreams. After you read this, you'll know that that's probably a good thing.
.
I briefly mentioned the story line to a friend this morning. She suggested that it was a dream worth analyzing. But alas, I was not given that ability. So I ask you, intrepid reader, to interpret the dream for me.
I see some one running through the forest, and realize it's Nephi. Of I Nephi fame. (He's a good guy.)
I can't remember a whole lot of what happens until I see him killing an entire family, except for the baby. Of course there must be a reason for this: Nephi is a good guy.
This is where I enter the dream as more than an observer - I am asked to run after Nephi while hauling and protecting the baby. I think I realize that this is a baby that is going to grow up to be King Noah. (A bad guy). And we're trying to prevent that from happening by moving him to a different location and having a happier childhood or something.
Then somehow we're in this building, running up stair after stair, that is congregated with thousands of people going down in the opposite direction. I'm supposed to follow Nephi up these stairs, running, whilst toting the tot. I fall sort of behind. Then I fall really really behind, and don't see the hero anymore.
And enter the creepy evil lady. She's always on my heels, trying to steal the babe. I run and run, and call out, and nothing happens.
Somehow we end up in the basement, me just earlier than her to wedge the baby in an air vent filled with straw. Of course I don't get the vent completely closed enough.
I'm grateful that it was at this point that I start to wake up and realize that this is a weird dream, because I think the lady was about to do some creepy divining to find the baby. *shudder*
So what does this all mean?
I think it means that one should not mix:
The Hill Cumorah (Nephi and King Noah)
with
Really Nice Clothing Store (creepy old lady)
and
the books River Secrets (trees) or Graceling (secret killer)
together with a homework tired mind.
What do you think?
.
I briefly mentioned the story line to a friend this morning. She suggested that it was a dream worth analyzing. But alas, I was not given that ability. So I ask you, intrepid reader, to interpret the dream for me.
I see some one running through the forest, and realize it's Nephi. Of I Nephi fame. (He's a good guy.)
I can't remember a whole lot of what happens until I see him killing an entire family, except for the baby. Of course there must be a reason for this: Nephi is a good guy.
This is where I enter the dream as more than an observer - I am asked to run after Nephi while hauling and protecting the baby. I think I realize that this is a baby that is going to grow up to be King Noah. (A bad guy). And we're trying to prevent that from happening by moving him to a different location and having a happier childhood or something.
Then somehow we're in this building, running up stair after stair, that is congregated with thousands of people going down in the opposite direction. I'm supposed to follow Nephi up these stairs, running, whilst toting the tot. I fall sort of behind. Then I fall really really behind, and don't see the hero anymore.
And enter the creepy evil lady. She's always on my heels, trying to steal the babe. I run and run, and call out, and nothing happens.
Somehow we end up in the basement, me just earlier than her to wedge the baby in an air vent filled with straw. Of course I don't get the vent completely closed enough.
I'm grateful that it was at this point that I start to wake up and realize that this is a weird dream, because I think the lady was about to do some creepy divining to find the baby. *shudder*
So what does this all mean?
I think it means that one should not mix:
The Hill Cumorah (Nephi and King Noah)
with
Really Nice Clothing Store (creepy old lady)
and
the books River Secrets (trees) or Graceling (secret killer)
together with a homework tired mind.
What do you think?
Saturday, June 06, 2009
i went to the oquirrh mountain open house
As we were leaving the temple, one of the last places we went through was the women's dressing rooms, and the bride's dressing rooms.
My grandpa looked at me and said,
"Take a good look [referring to the bride's rooms] because it will be the last time you see them."
hmmph.
Needless to say, I stuck my tongue out at him. (Real mature of me, I know.)
I think he was a bit put out and needed to tease someone, because as we were earlier about to descend three flights of stairs, the host lady asked if he would prefer to take the elevator.
How was she supposed to know he was about to make a 40 mile hike earlier this month? He only refrained because of flash flood danger.
Poor grandpa. He's only 76 after all.
Don't worry, though - I hold no hard feelings, for I know he was teasing.
At my cousin's/his grand-daughter's wedding, he asked where the strippers were.
Why?
Frau and I were playing "Air on a G String."
Oh, and the temple was quite lovely. I really liked the colors; the Celestial room was very very nice. The ceiling was amazingly high!
And from the parking lot, I could see the Draper Temple, and the Jordan River Temple as well. It was dark when we were leaving, so the inversion was invisible.
Though I am often light-hearted, and sometimes silly, I am grateful for temples, and their place in the Plan of Salvation. Without the knowledge that I have, well, let's just say sometimes really crappy things happen: I'm grateful for a different perspective, that, though not making such things easy, there is Someone in charge, making them bearable.
For
...when Amulek saw the pains of the women and children who were consuming in the fire, he also was pained; and he said unto Alma: How can we witness this awful scene? Therefore let us stretch forth our hands, and exercise the power of God which is in us, and save them from the flames.
But Alma said unto him: The Spirit constraineth me that I must not stretch forth mine hand; for behold the Lord receiveth them up unto himself, in glory; and he doth suffer that they [the bad-guys] may do this thing, or that the people may do this thing unto them, according to the hardness of their hearts, that the judgments which he shall exercise upon them in his wrath may be just; and the blood of the innocent shall stand as a witness against them, yea, and cry mightily against them at the last day.
Now Amulek said unto Alma: Behold, perhaps they will burn us also.
And Alma said: Be it according to the will of the Lord. But, behold, our work is not finished; therefore they burn us not.
Now it came to pass that when the bodies of those who had been cast into the fire were consumed...the chief judge of the land came and stood before Alma and Amulek, as they were bound; and he smote them with his hand upon their cheeks, and said unto them: After what ye have seen, will ye preach again unto this people, that they shall be cast into a blake of fire and brimstone? Behold, ye see that ye had not power to save those who had been cast into the fire; neither has God saved them because they were of thy faith. And the judge smote them again upon their cheeks, and asked: What say ye for yourselves? (Alma 14:10-15)
I say that the Lord knows the beginning from the end, and really, there is no end. There is no end.
My grandpa looked at me and said,
"Take a good look [referring to the bride's rooms] because it will be the last time you see them."
hmmph.
Needless to say, I stuck my tongue out at him. (Real mature of me, I know.)
I think he was a bit put out and needed to tease someone, because as we were earlier about to descend three flights of stairs, the host lady asked if he would prefer to take the elevator.
How was she supposed to know he was about to make a 40 mile hike earlier this month? He only refrained because of flash flood danger.
Poor grandpa. He's only 76 after all.
Don't worry, though - I hold no hard feelings, for I know he was teasing.
At my cousin's/his grand-daughter's wedding, he asked where the strippers were.
Why?
Frau and I were playing "Air on a G String."
Oh, and the temple was quite lovely. I really liked the colors; the Celestial room was very very nice. The ceiling was amazingly high!
And from the parking lot, I could see the Draper Temple, and the Jordan River Temple as well. It was dark when we were leaving, so the inversion was invisible.
Though I am often light-hearted, and sometimes silly, I am grateful for temples, and their place in the Plan of Salvation. Without the knowledge that I have, well, let's just say sometimes really crappy things happen: I'm grateful for a different perspective, that, though not making such things easy, there is Someone in charge, making them bearable.
For
...when Amulek saw the pains of the women and children who were consuming in the fire, he also was pained; and he said unto Alma: How can we witness this awful scene? Therefore let us stretch forth our hands, and exercise the power of God which is in us, and save them from the flames.
But Alma said unto him: The Spirit constraineth me that I must not stretch forth mine hand; for behold the Lord receiveth them up unto himself, in glory; and he doth suffer that they [the bad-guys] may do this thing, or that the people may do this thing unto them, according to the hardness of their hearts, that the judgments which he shall exercise upon them in his wrath may be just; and the blood of the innocent shall stand as a witness against them, yea, and cry mightily against them at the last day.
Now Amulek said unto Alma: Behold, perhaps they will burn us also.
And Alma said: Be it according to the will of the Lord. But, behold, our work is not finished; therefore they burn us not.
Now it came to pass that when the bodies of those who had been cast into the fire were consumed...the chief judge of the land came and stood before Alma and Amulek, as they were bound; and he smote them with his hand upon their cheeks, and said unto them: After what ye have seen, will ye preach again unto this people, that they shall be cast into a blake of fire and brimstone? Behold, ye see that ye had not power to save those who had been cast into the fire; neither has God saved them because they were of thy faith. And the judge smote them again upon their cheeks, and asked: What say ye for yourselves? (Alma 14:10-15)
I say that the Lord knows the beginning from the end, and really, there is no end. There is no end.
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