Picked up this book last night. It was a quick read, just a bit over an hour. But time well spent reading Brother Wilcox's perspective about trials and staying power. Brought back lots of memories of those few years I spent attending his institute class. (Along with a couple thousand friends-I-never-met who liked being there every week to learn.) Holding On Book (I'm currently having tech difficulty - getting the picture I took to upload to my computer. Sigh....)
I thoroughly enjoyed this uplifting little book that ultimately felt like a message of hope no matter your circumstance.
And I read the transcript of a podcast. (Haven't ever managed to listened to a podcast and likely won't be doing so anytime soon. I, personally, have issues with people just talking and talking. And after all, anyone can start a podcast. People don't seem to remember that podcasts are basically the host's personal opinions. Often I hear people quote podcasts as though they're indisputable truth no matter the subject. So I read the transcripts once in a while.) Anyway, this person put forth his opinion about taking the sacrament at church. I loved his perspective. He talked about how the sacrament is personally delivered to each individual. It isn't put on a table off in a corner for someone to take if the mood strikes. It isn't mentioned off-handedly. It is the focus of our church meeting, and important enough to be brought to each person in a reverent manner, hopefully provoking thoughts of the Savior and His mission, and the covenants we made at baptism. Hadn't actually thought of that ordinance that way before and how it's brought to us instead of us having to go seek it.
Reminded me of our meeting last Sunday. We have a young man/deacon who has Downs' syndrome. He has a very sweet temperament. He can also be focused on his task, he obviously wants to do things right. But he missed passing the sacrament to the organist. Which sometimes happens. It's an unintended consequence of being in a music calling: being overlooked. I've had it happen to me. So another deacon was alert enough to notice that he'd missed the organist, made his way over and helped her take the bread. He made certain to pay attention when it was the water and again made sure Sister Helen had the opportunity to take it. He's been taught well. And good for both of those deacons for doing their part to serve in that sacred way.
I was tired of the treadmill / missing my morning walk outside. We've anxiously watched the air quality. This morning it was finally below 90 - by only one number - but enough to take a chance. We grabbed a couple of our KN95 masks and headed out. (We don't have many of these KN95s, these are new to us, ones I recently acquired and we've been anxious to try them out. They fit great, work well and aren't terribly expensive. I love when things work out right!) The trail was pretty quiet, only a handful of bikers passed us. I had dabbed mosquito repellent on my neck and arms. That bite I got last week is still quite angry-red and itchy and I'm actually kinda tired of being the prime buffet for those dang things. Our walk was lovely. A pretty sunrise in spite of the smoke. It was peaceful and calm and definitely rejuvenating to my soul.
We've several things going this week, I like when we have enough to keep us busy but not enough to feel overloaded. Dinner tonight will be the backyard's offerings again, with only a small supplement from the fridge. What a blessing. And a luxury.
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