Living Water

by Shauna Brown

               

           A few years ago Rick and I spent a wonderful week on the Oregon sea coast.  Our condominium overlooked the water. I watched for hours, and witnessed ships of all sizes coming and going.  We walked upon the beach and gathered smooth rocks, and pebbles shaped by rolling tides. Starfish in all colors welcomed us to draw closer.   

        An old man walked upon the shore line, and with his  extended spoon, scooped up his pebbled, agate treasures. Listening to his enthusiastic description and infatuation with his daily discoveries, we too, filled our pockets full. 

          Travel always leads one to discovery. No matter where we have traveled we have been enriched by the surroundings, lessons learned, and the people planted within our path.  

        So walking upon the wooden board walks we set to learn all that we could. Boats, ships, heavy nets and crates dotted the sea coast. Some  ships were visibly freshly painted, while others displayed their age of work and rust. Hardy fishermen arrived and with bright eyes announced their fresh catch of the day.  I can almost smell it - fishy fresh. For moments I imagined what life would be like for me upon the blue expanse of ocean. 

        While set amid the laboratory of learning, I noted that hundreds of ships and cargo barges make their way to the Portland sea coast. Imagine it, there are twenty three ports . Everywhere it is easy to observe ships mooring and others setting out, embarking upon the ocean.   

        While seeking to learn more, we heard that ship captains perfer to port in Portland. Evidently as their ships travel the seas, a shellfish called a barnacle, fastens itself to the hull of the ship.  It has a rocklike shell and is difficult to remove. The barnacles attach themselves and welcome other barnacles to catch a ride. As more and more barnacles attach themselves, they increase the ship’s drag, slow its progress and decrease its efficiency. Because of this over growth, many ships have to go into dry dock and have the barnacles chipped and stripped away.  It is a costly procedure and very time consuming. Captains fear the loss of income.  Then it was discovered that if they take their ships to the fresh water coast of Portland the barnacles die and some fall away, while those that remain are easily removed. Thus, the ship returns to its task lightened and renewed.  

        I was fascinated that fresh water kills the barnacles, causing them to drop off. Fresh, living water.  The scriptures tell us that Christ is like unto the living water.  Those who seek him never thirst. 

        “Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst” :John 4:6–15 

         

            What are the barnacles that drag upon our soul? What is holding us back, hindering us 

and slowing our progress?  Can you see the wonderful parallel?  Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, is the living water that is essential to lift our burdens, cast aside afflictions, carry us through deep waters and sustain us. As water is essential to sustain physical life, the Savior and his teachings (living water) are essential for each one of us.   

          We don’t need to go to the coast of Oregon to obtain the fresh, living water. We need to go humbly to our knees.  One by one we can cast our barnacles aside and start afresh. Isn’t that a miracle?    

Might we all enjoy a smooth sailing on this Sabbath day! 

Love Always,

Shauna 

                                                   “Go give them Heaven”

by Shauna V. Brown 

        Years ago I had the opportunity of teaching seminary at Waterford School, a private school in Sandy, Utah. I loved it! I enjoyed preparing my lessons, and observing the students who sought to assimilate the doctrines and teachings of Christ. 

Each morning, the seminary faculty would meet together for prayer, after which, Roger Christensen, my leader and good friend, would extend a statement that I came to appreciate and value:  “Go give them heaven.”  It always made me smile, but also instilled a sobering challenge. ‘What would my Heavenly Father wish me to express, to teach and to testify of today?’

“Go give them heaven.” 

Four words, broken down. Go - Give - Everyone - A Taste of Eternal Life

I continue to think and ponder upon that simple phrase each day, as I watch hundreds of youthful faces pass by my office doorway. I  have come to realize that a bright smile, a warm hello, a compliment, a word of encouragement,  might bring about a simple reminder of who they are, and who loves them. Trying to live my life in such a way to extend a portion of “heaven” helps me to focus upon His love. 

Life isn’t perfect. There will be bumps and bruises, deep gashes of pain, and moments when our breath is taken from us. It is within those times I have come to know just how personal, how close, how caring our Father in Heaven is. The amazing grace to me is that I know He is mindful of each of us. I can ponder upon the experiences of my life, and quickly realize how often He has carried me, lifted me up, inspired, healed, and truly loved and spoiled me.   I know He hears my prayers, and wipes away the tears, and calms my fears... because, that’s what I believe Fathers do.  His promises are real. He can move mountains, change hearts, define purpose and instill the possibility.  He knows every detail of our lives, and to me, that is an incredible miracle. 

“We can communicate with our Heavenly Father through prayer, and those prayers will be heard and answered — perhaps not how and when we expected they would be answered,but they will be answered, and by a Heavenly Father who knows and loves us perfectly and who desires our happiness.” Pres. Thomas S. Monson

So, this day, I am thankful for all the Fathers in my life: my own loving earthly Father, my sweet husband and Father, but most of all, I am ever grateful for my Heavenly Father.  This afternoon we will launch our balloons into heaven. A great symbolic moment, as we seek to extend our thoughts and expressions of gratitude to a loving Father in Heaven.  I guess it will be our way of giving back to heaven.

Enjoy your sabbath

Love always,

SHAUNA

OPEN UP YOUR  HEART and  LET THE SUNSHINE IN!

by Shauna V. Brown 

  I am continually amazed at our ability to recall memories, events, and even melodies. 

       Growing up in our home, music was valued. I loved it when mother and I would sit at the piano, and song by song we would sing music. I loved lifting up the seat of the piano bench, to find a variety of sheet music and song books. Some of the music was old, 

and yellowed with time.  Sometimes mother would stop by Hart Brother’s Music Store, and purchase a song she had just heard on the radio, or sung at church.    I remember watching as she slipped the  sheet music from the brown paper bag. She was excited, almost as if she had brought me home a special, sugar treat.  Looking back, I think it was far better.   We would quickly make our way to the piano, spread the music open and begin our site reading.       

      Just the other day while driving to work, I began to sing a song. It was one I had learned as a little girl. I was amazed. I giggled, as it once again surrounded me with childhood thoughts and memories of Mama’s sweet tutoring. I could sing it, as if it was yesterday, recorded on my mind for time and all eternity. 

    Thinking about the lyrics, I realize now just how much words, and melody can influence, and penetrate the soul.  Some ask me why I always seem so happy. Perhaps it comes from a lesson learned at a piano bench.

OPEN UP YOUR HEART  by Stuart Hamblen

Mommy told me something a little girl should know

It’s all about the Devil and I’ve learned to hate him so

She says he causes trouble when you let him in the room

He will never ever leave you if your heart is filled with gloom

So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin

Smilers never lose and frowners never win

So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin

Open up your heart and let the sun shine in

When you are unhappy, the Devil wears a grin

But oh, he starts a-running when the light comes pouring in

I know he’ll be unhappy ‘cause I’ll never wear a frown

Maybe if we keep on smiling he’ll get tired of hangin’ around

If I forget to say my prayers the Devil jumps with glee

But he feels so awful, awful, when he sees me on my knees

So if you’re full of trouble and you never seem to win

Just open up your heart and let the sun shine in

So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin

Smilers never lose and frowners never win

So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin

Open up your heart and let the sun shine in

       

   I believe with full heart that we choose each day, if we are going to be happy.   

Might I share one of my favorite quotes, which has been a source of peace, and light to me. 

“It isn’t as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don’t worry. I say that to myself every morning. It all works out in the end. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us. If we will put our trust in Him, if we will pray to Him, if we will live worthy of His blessings, He will hear our prayers.”   Pres. Gordon B. Hinckley

     Note that he said, “I say that to myself every morning...  ‘It all works out.”  Each and every day we are at a crossroads of possibilities. We choose to let the sun in, or wait and worry in the darkness of doubt.  

     I’m thankful that Mama brought home that piece of sheet music, for I believe I learned much more within the measures,  than just the melody.

     Sing on everyone! Go forth and spread the sunshine! 

Find a song that lifts your spirits, and brings the light.

   Within the measure you too, shall see the blessings .

Enjoy your Sabbath

Love Always,

Shauna 

                           

Streams of Mercy

by Shauna V. Brown 

      Yesterday, Rick and I drove up the canyon to breathe in the beauty of nature. I always marvel 

at the reverence and awe that it generates within  my soul.  As I look up, it seems that I see further  

into heaven’s arms. As I scan that which surrounds me, I feel as if I am dressed in emerald shaded  

robes.  Sitting by the stream, listening to the rush of the water, I feel cleansed.  Birds chirp, and ants  

crawl, then a little, white butterfly dances past me.  A sense of peace permeates my spirit and I feel at home--wondrous home.   A yellow jacket came close enough to buzz within my ear, and I sat still because of a stinging remembrance.   

        I guess it is in the sweet stillness that allows one to ponder upon those things we wish we could recall.  Oh, how I wish I could remember that heavenly home again. Some say it is much more beautiful than earth, nothing like one can imagine, but looking around me, all I see is majestic wonder.  

           Years ago I learned a song, Trailing Clouds of Glory.  It was originally written as an Ode by, William Wordsworth.  It is a lengthy Ode, yet I would like to share a portion that I feel is fitting for today:                        

                        Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: 

The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star, 

Hath had elsewhere its setting, 

And cometh from afar: 

Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 

But trailing clouds of glory do we come 

From God, who is our home:  

            I have long understood that writers are frequently set to pondering. I have identified with Charlotte Brontë, as she shared: 

          “We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night-sky, where His worlds wheel their silent course, 

 that we read clearest His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence.”     

        Rick said, “Come, let’s put our feet into the water.” I hesitated too long, as fear of dirty slacks erased an added measure of pleasure. I didn’t want to disturb the moment I was soaking in.  

          The water’s cascading role wasn’t just felt by river rocks and fallen wood. I felt it surge within my heart and soul--Living Water. I guess that is why tender tears come, crest, and fall so freely, as one’s spirit is renewed.   

        In the quiet walk back into daily living, I breathed fuller, as I once again realized that feeling “streams of mercy,” is for real.  

        Enjoy your Sabbath 

        Take a moment and walk within God’s love. 

  

Love always,

Shauna 

 

        Dandelions           by Shauna Brown 

          

        I love Dandelions! It’s not just because they are sunny yellow, they are packed full of sweet memories.  I love the way, Henry Ward Beecher, once shared concerning them:    

                 “. . . the radiant dandelion, shining in the grass,  

                                like a spark dropped from the sun.”  

          

        From my earliest memories I remember how Mama made me feel, as I entered the house with my little dandelion bouquet, picked with uneven stems. Just her smile let me know it seemed to be as sweet and appreciated as a dozen long stemmed red roses. I can see her now going to the kitchen cupboard to get a glass, filling it with cold water, and placing my gift within.  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” she would say.  As if she didn’t know, I took her by the hand and showed her where I picked them. It was then she gently introduced me to a bigger surprise. She carefully pulled up a white silky, seeded, pom pom in her hand. I didn’t realize they were same, only time had revealed it’s eternal purpose. 

               “I’ll make a wish,” she said, after which she blew a few seeds into the sky. “Again, this time you make wish.” I wished, and then I took a deep breathe and blew with all my might, and watched as nearly every seed was scattered. I watched them drift and dance. It was a glorious moment. I’m sure my eyes were wide open as it seemed so wonderful, exciting as they merged, lifted up, up, and away. Little white helicopters hovering in every direction , till I saw them disappeared.    I thought it magical and wanted to delight within it more. I rushed around the yard and picked and pulled every dandy pom pom and blew ‘till they were naked bare. 

                I smile as I still pluck silk pom poms from their stems and make wishes, and blow them into heaven. I watch as they float upward, holding my promises and prayers. You see, I believe that in that simple thought and gesture God is very aware of our hearts, the intentions of our soul, and the desires we focus upon.   

                   Oh, I don’t worry about having “dandelion weeds”  growing in my yard, I welcome them. I embrace their creation and marvel at all their worth. You see to me, the dandelion is an emblem, a symbol, of possibilities.   

        Henry David Thoreau, looked upon nature as a teacher while he lived at Walden Pond. Within his two years, two months and two days he wrote and recorded his thoughts.  Perhaps he too plucked a dandelion and blew it’s tasseled wonders into the sky. Then he wrote within his journal, perhaps even sketched a few seeds. 

  “What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are  

        tiny matters compared to what lives within us.”   Henry David Thoreau 

  

               God has planted seeds, people, within our lives, all shapes and varieties. They may only last a brief moment and then continue and drift upon their venture. While others become deeply rooted, nurturing and enriching our lives, as if a ‘spark dropped from the SON.’ They have gifted us of their divine purpose, time, and worth.   

  Imagine a silk dandelion if your will ..... 

          “Thee lift me and I’ll lift thee and we’ll ascend together.” Quaker Proverb

        So, take a deep breath, and toss a wish unto the heavens, blowing gently to give each little seed an opportunity to rise higher, understanding all the while that every wish is a prayer.  

        Dance on I cry -  

        Blowing 

        Fairy moons into heaven’s sky.  

Enjoy Your Sabbath  - to every season . 

Love Always 

Shauna 

                            Prayer  Ritual?

by Shauna Brown 

         I have thought often about the rituals that were woven into my life.  Reflecting upon them, there were many. But for this morning I will focus upon one of them.

Prayer.  When I think of prayer I am grateful for parents who taught me how to pray, why we pray, to whom we pray. Pretty much my life was filled with stepping stones of prayers.  Some of them seemed so common, so everyday, especially blessings upon the food. More meaningful to me were our Family prayers.  Morning and night my parents would have us all gather together in a circle upon our knees, in our living room.  After prayer there were hugs and kisses extended. I truly felt the feeling of ‘heaven on earth.’ 

Then at night was the ritual question mother asked, “Have you said your prayers?”  Sad to say I once told her, “One should not have to be prompted to pray.” But, now looking back my mother was merely trying to instill within me the deep dependance upon relying on God. At different stages throughout my life there were pleading prayers, beseetching prayers asking the Lord for guidance, direction and assistance. Numerous prayers were offered in behalf of family and friends facing cancer, troubled marriages, trauma, sickness, lonliness, spiritual darkness, just to address a few. 

     One prayer I shall never forget, was a prayer I heard my Mother offer.  I was almost twelve at the time. She was in her bedroom, kneeling by her bed. The door was open just a crack.  Gratefully it wasn’t an unusual site to see her praying, but as I walked past the doorway I heard her speak my name aloud. Of course I was drawn immediately to listen. As she spoke to God about me it became so personal, so sweet and purposeful. I could feel of her love, genuine concern and desires in raising me. There was something so strong within her words that I knew she was seeking the maker of my soul.  Now mind you, little did I give my parents any reason to worry. But that day will long be cherished, as I listened  to my mother’s side of the conversation with God. It was crystal clear that she knew she couldn’t raise me without His help. That moment was a marking point within my soul, and became a repeated experience with my own children. I have been humbled at times to the core, wondering, worrying, heart sick and often could only find peace and confidence upon my knees.  

As Rick and I were driving one day we saw a sign on the side of a church,  it read, “Drive Through Prayer.”  I shook my head in wonder and admitedly jested, “What will they come up next with?” We turned our car around and followed the arrows that led to where a prayer would be extended in our behalf. I mused inwardly ‘ how can one truly think that a drive through prayer will make a difference?’  

A kind and welcoming woman walked up to our car. We shared our interest in the sign.   It was most apparent she had heard comments of similiar interest. 

“We just ask what you’re in need of, offer a prayer in your behalf, and send you off with God’s blessing.”  

Now I’m not going to question the intensions of the Drive Through Prayer. It was evident of  her devotion and interest in those who chose to drive through.  Perhaps to some it’s the only indication that they have time to give to the Lord.  

I know prayers have been answered in my behalf. I have recieved answers, tender mercies and miracles. Peace has flooded my heart when I have taken the time to petition and converse with the Lord. What a blessing it is to believe ‘that with God - nothing is impossible.’ 

        “Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one’s weakness. 

It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.” 

~ Mahatma Gandhi

“The function of prayer is not to influence God, but rather to change

 the nature of the one who prays.”  ~ Søren Kierkegaard

“The best way to obtain truth and wisdom is not to ask from books, 

but to go to God in prayer, and obtain divine teaching.”  ~ Joseph Smith Jr.

“Let us never forget to pray. God lives. He is near. He is real. He is not only aware of us but

 cares for us. He is our Father. He is accessible to all who will seek Him.” 

~ Gordon B. Hinckley

“Prayer is not asking. Prayer is putting oneself in the hands of God, at His disposition, and 

listening to His voice in the depth of our hearts.” ~ Mother Teresa

“I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming 

conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that

of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.” ~ Abraham Lincoln

“You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray 

also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.” ~ Khalil Gibran

      “Is prayer your steering wheel or your spare tire?” 

~ Corrie ten Boom

  I will be forever grateful for those ritual words my mother would ask each and every night, “Have you said your prayers?” 

May we all pause for a moment this day and ponder upon our own personal meaning of prayer.  Might we reflect upon how, through kind and tender mercies , they have been answered. 

    Enjoy this Sabbath Day 

Love Always,

Shauna 

                                 Such a Gift

by Shauna Brown 

I remember with great clarity the day when my first born was laid within my arms. It had been a long, long  day of labor, sucking on ice chips, watching monitors, observing  the hands on the clock slowly pace the long anticipated entrance of our little one. 

Finally, with well assisted forcepts,  my little baby girl was turned, pulled and “at last” she too, cried for equally anticipated relief. 

          From that moment on I felt an enhanced definement of the meaning of the word “Mother”.  

I was ever so grateful to hear her first strong cry. I scanned her little red face - so perfect. Her little pink features made me smile. Yes, I counted every toe and finger. I kissed her on her neck, just where my mother loved to kiss tiny babies. I caressed and hugged her, marveled for hours, days, months after to mark the moment forever upon my heart. I had received a ‘miracle’ to hold and embrace for an eternity. 

Time and time again I thought frequently of my mother and her cherished feeling of motherhood. I saw more clearly, as  I felt more appreciation grow and humbled with the responsibility. 

I recall that several years later, and several more babies,  I was seated in a Sunday School class. There were about fifteen in attendance. The teacher shared an audio of a couple having their first child. We listened intently and it was clear others could identify with a similiar experience. When the little baby cried we all smiled, nodded our heads and reflected upon those sweet moments when we reached into heaven and welcomed our children.

   However, it was clear that one of the women in the class had been overwhelmed with the presentation held within the audio. She wept and cried aloud.  The teacher, being sensitive to her,  invited her to share her feelings. It was apparent she was stirred by it. I will never forget her answer, as she wiped away the tears:  “I have never been blessed to have had that moment in my life. I never heard my children’s first cry. Never waited nine months, never felt any pain. You can’t imagine how it felt to sence what it was like. To hear them cry with happiness, to hear the baby cry. To hear the father, his excitement.  Just hearing what it was like in the delivery room  -- was such a gift.”  ( The young couple had adopted two children from Korea.) 

  I have thought upon that day in the classroom, many times. Clearly it was a tender lesson within a lesson. After her sharing I have counted the incredible blessing of becoming a mother as a focal part of my life and purpose.  Motherhood is a gift, a gift from loving heavenly parents. Parenthood is the classroom of life wherein we learn from those placed within our hearts.  Lessons metered  individually with the growing seasons.  

I smile now, much like my mother did as she recalled her own experiences, as history repeated itself.  I hear my own children announce with frustration, “He drew all over the walls and couch.”  “She used fingernail polish!”  “She scribbled,”  “He broke. . .”     

I guess that’s why I wrote the verse....

Crayon marks will disappear, the scratches they will heal

Stories told to sweet ones, the closeness that they feel.

Tomorrow is coming I see my life in a special way . . . 

Thinking of my own mother I close my eyes and blow a kiss to heaven--so thankful that to her it was Mother’s Day everyday!  She recognized the incredible blessing it was to welcome children into her life.

Oh, how I long for her hugs and her soothing words of assurance.  “You can do it!” 

Enjoy your sabbath. 

Enjoy your Mother’s Day!

Just make sure you get your share of those hugs!

Love Always,

Shauna