Follow the Signs

by Shauna Brown  
 
    Some forty years ago I was introduced to the experience of  “Garage/ Yard Sales” by my mother-in-law. Some might call it junking, scumming, or seeking for treasures. 
      It was during those early Saturday morning expeditions I came to find treasures, trinkets, and needed objects for my new home.  The saying it true:  “one man’s trash - is another man’s treasure.”  For me it began my exploration of treasure hunting. 
      I have frequently been  filled with delight as friends inquire, “Where did you get that?" or “I want one.”  “I love it.” Equally to my joy is watching their faces as I explain that I found it at a garage sale.  
     You’ve seen the signs posted along side the road --Garage Sale, Yard, Estate, Neighborhood Sale.  Let me just say, I appreciate those who clearly mark, use lots of brightly colored posters, arrows, balloons, indicating the direction that I should travel. I am attracted to those that look the most promising. Words like huge, epic, gigantic, multi family, neighborhood, estate, always draw me to follow and cross my fingers. I am hopeful to be lead to an ample abundance of possibilities.  
      It’s amazing, as I often encounter a memory walk through days past. I find toys that look just like the ones used by my children. I smile, as I loved the days of young motherhood. Dishes, dolls, books and bicycles that held some of my own childhood memories. One can find everything from A to Z.  Pieces of history and lives set atop tables or stuffed into boxes. 

    With delight I have carried my arms filled with treasured finds with an equally  large grin and some what giggled pride.   I guess one might conclude I was at 'the right place at the right time.' 

       On the other hand, I have followed signs that indicated that it was a Huge Sale only to find a meager few items scattered over the yard. I call those yard sales more than disappointing.  I give them little attention and drive on.
     I love the yard sales where boxes and tables are filled and brimming over, as I have discovered that often the seller is more than willing to accept my offer,  “Will you take less?”  
      So today, this Sunday, let us ponder the words written for each of us. Words that lead us almost like arrows to the ultimate ESTATE destination: to live with God again.
   There won’t be balloons or florescent posters to mark the way, and we won’t have any money in our pockets.  We will come empty handed.    Perhaps some of us will hope and pray that we can extend,  “Will you take less?”  Yet I think not, for clearly God has spelled it out, written in big, bold letters: 
         I say unto you, I give unto you a new commandment, that you may understand my will concerning you;
        Or, in other words, I give unto you directions how you may act before me, that it may turn to you for your salvation.
        I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise.   Doctrine and Covenants 82:8: 
       
      Each of us are bound by a promise from a loving Father in Heaven. I love God's generous treasures, gifts and constant directions. His greatest desire is that we return to Him. 
     In the Bible God shares : "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.  How disappointed we will be if we seek for something of less value,or if we have forgotten and packed away His purpose within our lives. How sad we will be when seeing all that He would wish for us has been lessened by our choices.  Clearly we will be humbled as we realize that at that moment we cannot extend: "Will you take less?" Especially when He has given all. 
       Joseph Brackett was an Elder in the Shaker community. It was Brackett's belief that all of us are gifted with free choices. Ultimately our choices we lead us to discover and find our way home.  He wrote and composed a song in 1848, 
originally entitled,“Tis the Gift”  He shared about the simple, defined, directions of life: 

          ‘Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free
          ‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
          And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
          ‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

          When true simplicity is gain’d,
          To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d,
          To turn, turn will be our delight,
          Till by turning, turning we come ‘round right. 

 
  
 
May we all keep turning and turning 'til we come ‘round right.   

Enjoy the Sabbath
Love to all

Shauna 

Sometimes He Lets It Rain

by Shauna Brown 

    This incident happened years ago, but it has always rested upon my heart.   

    Rick and I had gone out to dinner and was enjoying our conversation and waiting for our meal to arrive, when a woman was seated across the table from us. I expected to see her husband, family, quickly join with her. Minutes passed by and she remained sitting at the table alone. Something inside nibbled at our conscience and united we invited her to come and sit with us.  She smiled with surprise and  graciously refused our offer. 

        “No, I’m fine thank you.” 

      Still we both encouraged her to come and enjoy her meal with us.  It was then she said, “It’s my birthday and my husband has given me the gift I wanted most-- enjoy a meal alone.”  

      I was shocked, and truly must have reflected my surprise. “You’re birthday!”  Spontaneously I started to sing, joined by Rick, in a familiar birthday melody. 

     She smiled with appreciation and expressed her gratitude for our rendition. Then with just a few sentences she revealed and opened our eyes to the unusual birthday gift.  She shared that many years prior she and her husband were excited to have a baby.  Yet, as life would have it he had been born handicapped and was in need of constant care. Family, friends and well meaning neighbors had strongly encouraged them to place him in a facility for the retarded and handicapped.  The young couple made the decision to keep their young son at home. It was easy to feel of her love and devotion for her son. Years of endless sacrifice had warranted and welcomed this night as a birthday wish of TIME. Time to be alone. Time to sit and allow her thoughts to wander.  Time to eat a meal in silence without having to spoon feed her son and wipe a drooling face. Time to listen to music playing. Time to observe others. Time to just sit. Time to be served instead of serving.    

    As she shared her story with us it was evident that the pressure of taking care of her son was constant and tiring.     

     “I told my husband all I wanted for my birthday was go out to dinner,” she said. “My husband is staying at home with our son Benjamin.”  

       We respected her wishes and let her savor each bite of her dinner.  

       That experience one again opened my understanding to the various challenges that many are facing in life.  I often consider and refer to them as climate changes. We observe many who seemingly enjoy a carefree and sunkissed day, while others are living with partly cloudy moments, still some are trying to survive under constant torrents of down pouring rain. 

          A few years ago I wrote a script,“Stand Against the Wind.” Within the presentation  a soloist sang a song-Sometimes He Let’s It Rain.  As she sang, it was apparent that the words were felt by most in the audience. Tears flowed as they recognized their own personal journey of climate changes. The music was written by (Tyler Castleton/ Staci Peters) 

      Sometimes He Lets It Rain 

She sees the storm clouds gather 

The sky is turning cold and gray 

She knows that something’s coming 

When she starts to feel this way 

She pleads for intervention 

But heaven offers no relief 

And she would understand if she could only see that 

Sometimes He lets it rain 

He lets the fierce winds blow 

Sometimes it takes a storm 

To lead a heart where it can grow 

He can move mountains of grief 

And oceans of pain 

But sometimes he lets it rain 

When her heart surrenders  

To the Master in control 

Her spirit learns the lessons of the tempest in her soul 

When it’s no longer raging 

She can see how far she’s come 

Through the wisdom and the mercy of the Son 

Sometimes He lets it rain 

He lets the fierce winds blow 

Sometimes it takes a storm 

To lead a heart where it can grow 

He can move mountains of grief 

And oceans of pain 

But sometimes he lets it rain 

       Sometimes God does let it rain, I know that to be true. I’m just appreciative and thankful that we can feel equally of His umbrella of loving protection.   

       One doesn’t have to look far to see that many are holding onto an umbrella of hope. I’m thankful to Heavenly Father for allowing us to observe and learn. 

     I encourage all to go and listen to the song - let it soak into your heart.

Have a sunshine day. . . with a cherry on top!

or --- go out and play in the puddles

Enjoy!

Love Shauna 

Remember. . .

by Shauna Brown 

      I don’t recall my earliest attraction for cemetaries. I only know that I am drawn there. Perhaps it was the many Memorial Days that our family spent filling Mason Canning Jars with bouquets of Iris, Daisies, Lialics, and Mums . We would drive to various cemetaries and almost ceremoniously we would place our fragrant remembrances on the head stones of our loved ones. There were stories shared and sometimes even the shedding of tears.    

     I laugh now thinking that perhaps my enchantment for cemetaries came because of a song my Mother taught me.  Some chill with the lyrics, but it always makes me smile, as Mama sang it so dramatically when ever she saw a hearse. Yet, if death had a sting, my Mother shared a different slant on it.   Some might consider it morbid, at first I did, but somehow it can growns on you.  It’s reality.

    Humor me a little as I share the lyrics - for to stir a giggle from

 heaven.

    

     Have you ever thought when the hearse goes by.

   That sooner or later both you and I 

Will go riding by in that old grey hack

And never be thinking of coming back.

They’ll bury you down in the ground so deep

And there they will leave you forever to sleep

The worms will crawl in and the worms will crawl out

They’ll crawl all over your nose and mouth

They’ll bring their friends, and their friends, friends too,

And you’ll look like heck when they’ll through with you! 

        What?  I hear you say... you’re Mama taught you that?  Yes!  My own children still to this very day cringe when I sing  it.  I laugh just like Mama did.

   Just yesterday I was riding in the car with my ten year old, granddaughter Kate. As we were about to drive past a cemetary I watched with surprise as she inhaled a large gasp of air. She held her breathe, and her eyes began to bulge. Coming to the edge of the cemetary she then let out a gasp of relief. Clearly, I didn’t know what she was doing. Upon request  I soon discovered that a cousin had shared with her that if you leave your mouth open while driving past a cemetery - there are evil,  spirits that want to enter your body. So one must hold their breath.  I don’t know which is worse. Singing about hearses, or holding one’s breath until the cemetery is out of sight. Anyway, it is something new to smile about.

         Over the years my family have kindly tolerated my interest, and infatuation with cemetaries. We’ve been to hundreds of them. From Arlington National, to Anaconda, St. Peter’s Basilica to Sleep Hollow.  Tombstones get my imagination going, especially the really old ones that are falling over, sinking into the ground or have intriguing epitaphs. Little figures and symbols frequently decorated the face. Sometimes there are simple stories scripted in stone, leaving legacies and questions for generations. I’m fasinated with life and how we all must come to value it. 

Just a couple of weekends ago Rick and I were on a short get-a-way.  Taking a morning walk we happened upon a small and remote cemetery.  I was glad I had my camera in hand, and  I clicked away. I considered the cemetery a morning’s blessing. Rick knew we had to climb the hill to touch a head stone or two. I love the carved images and epitaphs, forever written. I read the names aloud and for a moment gave a silent ovation for a life lived. There comes a sence of purpose, even though you have never seen their faces before, or heard their names. Sometimes only partial name is visible, and some stones worn almost completely away. Yet, their plot and purpose in life still is marked and valued.  

       I have oftened pondered upon the sacred “Garden Tomb”, where the stone was rolled away -- for me. Where head wraps and white shroad cloth were momentarily worn, then folded and gently placed upon the burial slab, made of stone. 

          

          What would His epitaph read? 

     “HE IS RISEN"          “GOD'S SON”  

“HE GAVE ALL FOR ALL”      “HE CAME FOR ME”

“HE LIVED PERFECTLY” “HALLELUJAH!”  

“REMEMBER ME”  

       

      Everyone of us has the desire to be remembered. Jesus Christ  showed each of us our eternal value. Like the stone carver, Jesus knows the time it takes to engrave those words of significiance, as he shared:'

Behold, I have 'graven thee upon the palms of my hands; 

thy walls are continually before me.

                      Isaiah 49: 16

    

       “Continually before me,” no need to hold your breathe, just hold the knowledge that God is standing close by.  I believe Jesus Christ is truly interested in the details, even the smallest of details of our lives.  Sometimes in the unusual things, funny moments and sober times.  In fact,  I think that He laughed aloud as my Mama taught the song about hearses, death and decay.  

      Then he  paused, smiled, and reflected along as I was frequently taught of Christ. He was remembered. He listened to the significant stories and songs I learned about him, and to this very day I rejoice in Christ. He is my salvation, my Savior. 

      So instead of placing flowers on cold stoned memorials... I joyfully breathe in daily knowing that life has divine purpose. That I know I am loved - forever and ever. 

      We all eventually  die, and the worms will crawl in, and out, and we return to dust. 

    Yet, we can rejoice knowing that we shall live again. For it is His promise and plan.  

      Breathe deeply, and hold your breath at cemeteries. Just thinking. . . 

Enjoy your Sabbath

Love to All Shauna

                            

                                 SMILES

by Shauna Brown 

    Over the past 40 years I have observed an incredible phenomenon. When a positive energy source is introduced into a static, negative environment great things can happen. Either the negative source will quickly seek for an escape route or will be drawn to the positive source of energy.  Time and time again I marvel at this occurrence. 

     My sweetheart, Rick,  is truly a positive source of joy. He can instantly make a new friend, whether it’s a cashier who’s tired and irritable, or a salesman who has little hope of making a sale. Sometimes it’s a staffer who clearly would rather be somewhere else. Yet, within a matter of moments, with just a few words, a smile, or a reassuring touch, the power to change and invite the spirit of love is evident. 

   Just yesterday, Rick and I were visiting an Insta-care facility.  True to his standard, within a matter of seconds, in spite of his bleeding hand, he had the staff in stitches.  

        “Where did you find him?”  “Is he always like this?”  “Is he on medication?”    “Is there ever a dull moment in your life?” Are among the common responses I hear.   Frequently I must  shake my head, confess and confirm, “He’s just kidding.”   I admit, I felt an urgency to counter most of his teasing to insure that correct medical information was being issued to the nurse. I’m just grateful it wasn’t a life or death situation or they would have considered using a straight jacket.  

      I’m sure laughter in an emergency room isn’t common place.  Yet, once again I realized how Rick thrives in bringing moments of joy to others.  He just LOVES everyone. It delights my heart to watch him spin his magic.  

      Most of the nursing staff were drawn to his side. Truly he can be a one man show. Rarely are there standing ovations given, but I applaud his abilities and desire to make the world more interesting and filled with joy. I love to watch the smiles.  Rick has the uncanny ability and habit of bringing a generous dose of humor and fresh happiness.         

      “You made my day.”  “Come again, and soon!”  “Thank you !”  “Come back,” are common comments, and always returned with a broader smile. 

     The following capsulates Rick. . .  

   “What is the best that lies within us? Of how much are we capable? None of us yet knows. An old Arabic legend tells of a rider finding a spindly sparrow lying on its back in the middle of the road. He dismounted and asked the sparrow why his feet were in the air. Replied the sparrow, “I heard the heavens were going to fall today.” “And I suppose you think your puny bird legs can hold up the whole universe?” laughed the horseman. “Perhaps not,” said the sparrow with conviction, “but one does whatever one can.”  

       Jeffrey R. Holland, Created for Greater Things 

        . . . And so it is with Rick---Doing all that he can to make the world a better place. 

Truly, life is meant to be enjoyed.

      Can you imagine the surprised look on the visiting stake presidents face when Bishop Brown got up at the conclusion of the meeting and said aloud, "Let the congregation say -Amen! "  

  

     You should have seen all of the smiles,while my heart giggled.   

                                        AMEN !