How We Began

I woke this morning with thoughts of Terry on my mind.  This is not new, but I was definitely thinking about when we met and that I should write and share this series of events.  So here is the beginning of our story.

We met on a Saturday night, June 9^th 1979, in Othello at a Young Adult Dance (young adult is beyond HS graduation, before and after missions a few years, one might say college age and unmarried). 

Terry asked me to dance …, we did, and then we visited for a few minutes.  Having just had an experience that made me want to distance myself from any boy, I was not interested and didn’t notice anything that would tell me that I should get to know this person better. 

The next night was a Stake Young Adult fireside in Othello (Stake is several wards together – I don’t know if there were maybe 6-7 at the time).   The meeting had just gotten over and I was sitting in the back area of the chapel.  Several people had left the chapel, but a few were standing up toward the front of the room visiting with each other.

I stood up to walk out and noticed this group of young adults.  I could only see the backs of the two or three boys, and could tell there were a couple girls in front of them, but couldn’t see who those boys were.  What I did see was a tall, slender, dark haired young man in a beautiful blue suit.   I did not know who he was, nor that he was the young man that I had met the previous night, but I did have the words “That is the man I’m going to marry” go through my heart and mind.

   

Wow!  Really?  How was I going to tell him that?  How would he know?  

I walked out of the chapel and was visiting with a friend at the refreshment area when this handsome boy in that beautiful blue suit was standing beside me asking me to go with him to the next Young Adult activity.   Well, maybe the Lord told him about me too!  

This was when I saw his face for the first time.  Oh, we met the night before, but I wasn’t looking and didn’t really see him, but tonight was different.  He was so handsome and I loved his smile and I was so anxious for our next meeting.  We didn’t really visit long this night, but my heart was attached already.

June 15^th was the next activity he had invited me to, in Kennewick, and he came and picked me up.  I remember that another couple went with us.  I also remember that I took hold of Terry’s hand and didn’t want to let it go and we sat close together, never wanting to be separated.  Just a note: As a mother now I know that I would be so worried if my daughter had done what I did.  I would try to "knock some sense into her"  – “but you just met him”, “you’ve got to get to know him and go out with him several times before you get so close” and more of that type of concern.  But you see, I had been told that he would be my husband, so why not make the move to try to keep him around?   I already knew how important he was to me, so I held his hand and sat real close and didn’t let him out of my sight.  So much for distancing myself!  It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

I believe he must have known something too, because he held my hand with a tender touch, he made me feel special, and he kept asking me out.  Our notes/calendar show that we had 3 dates in June (and he was in the hospital for a few days with pneumonia which shortened our number of days to go on dates that month), 6 in July,  and it just kept getting better and better.  I loved seeing him and being with him, and I loved hearing his voice on the phone, always hating to say good-bye.  Even after we were married I loved hearing him on the phone though it didn’t happen very often until cell phones were introduced years later.

We enjoyed being together as often as we could, we met each other’s families and we made each other happy.  Terry never really asked me to marry him in the traditional way, but there seemed to be no doubt that we were going to get married.  Once he asked if we should get our names put on "one of those pretty little cards and envelopes" after he told me of an announcement he received from a missionary companion that was getting married.  He told me to "think about it".  

One night after a movie he asked, “What would you say if I asked you to marry me?”  My first thought was of course I’d say yes, but how was I going to come up with a clever way to respond, then he quickly finished up with, "well, just wait till I ask you!"  We laughed about that often.

Well, he never did really ask again, but one night at my house he asked me if I would like to go with him to Spokane to pick out a wedding ring.   Of course I agreed to that and we did - December 8th.

the rings

I continue to wear that ring with love, and now I also wear Terry's ring on my finger beside my ring, closest to my heart.  We set our wedding date for February 12^th 1980 and life was good.

Terry and Elaine - engagement photo

I had found the man of my dreams and I was happier than I knew one could be. We were married for time and eternity in the Idaho Falls LDS Temple.  

12 February 1980, after wedding (didn't know the picture was being taken).
This is the beautiful blue suit I loved, but I love the man in it most!

After the ceremony I remained in my wedding dress and Terry in his suit, and we walked across the temple grounds to the hospital where his maternal grandparents were.  His grandpa was not well and was there, with his wife beside him.  

at the hospital after our wedding, with Terry's grandparents

I met these wonderful people for the first time, not realizing that it was also the last time we would see his grandfather.  Many were amazed to see someone in a wedding dress in the hospital, but it was an exciting and wonderful experience to share with those I love.  I have treasured that experience and held it close to my heart ever since. 

We left that Tuesday, from Idaho Falls and traveled to Anaheim for our honeymoon at Disney Land.  

one man cut these as he looked at us, no sketch first

We didn’t spend a lot of money, but we spent a lot of time and enjoyed being together. We were off to a great start.

souvenirs - Lady and Tramp

We had a reception to be home to on the 22^nd of February but we took our time and enjoyed our new life together, getting home the following Wednesday evening, the 20^th, where we learned that both sets of parents were very worried that we were not home a few days earlier.   I guess they thought we might take a four or five day honeymoon, but we had taken 9 days – and it was a most enjoyable time with no worries whatsoever.   I highly recommend it!  J

Ronald & Gelene Rodeback, Elaine & Terry Hebdon, Idris & Keith Hebdon

We had a unique relationship from the very beginning and we hated being apart.  Words just cannot describe how much I love this man.

Terry and Elaine 1981 - don't try to separate us!  

We have always remained close and he has always been my best friend.  We set up home beside his parents' home in a double-wide trailer he purchased from a neighbor.  It became our favorite place to be ..., HOME ..., because we were together.

Our first house

 I know this is a long post already, but I want to add one more thing.  This is something Terry wrote years ago - (Something he penned as he thought it and never went back to correct grammar or punctuation.  In its original state there are lines crossed out as he traded them for new words.)

"On a blessed Sunday evening not so very long ago, I first saw a girl I just had to get to know.

She was tall and looked so fair, nice, a pleasant site to see.  But then I had a problem! Could I get her to notice me?

Well time went on - not many days, when again my eyes met her gaze.  It was at a dance at which I met her.  The music played, my heart did purr.  

I was most content with myself that I hid behind a shelf and gave the drinks as kids came by.  Wetting a thirst as it was dry.

She came my way, what should I do.  Somehow I said may I dance with you.

She somehow was special to my mind.  Full of tenderness and very kind.

So after that it was my ambition that I might start a new tradition. Of her and me or us together that we twain would become better.

Now names with me aren't the best so I put my mind to test.  How can I remember her name divine? Well, I'll just ask a friend of mine.

He had it there on paper yellow.  May God bless this good fellow.

I read it then and it was fixed in my heart and on my lips.  

But now the task to see if she would consent to go with me.  

There was an event in Kennewick and"

That is where it stopped.  But we know that the story continues - and it's a good one.  I'll share parts of it as I feel prompted to as we continue on this journey through life.   

This writing is proof that Terry did feel something special for me and just like I wondered how I would let him know how I felt about him, he too wondered how he would let me know how he felt about me.  

A good friend of my dad's loved to tease me and asked me a few times if I would consider choosing his son instead of Terry.  I would always tell him that I was sure I had made the right choice and had no intention of changing my mind.

Terry and I were meant to be together! I am so grateful for every little event that took place in our lives, from the very beginning, that made it possible.  I am grateful for everyone that helped us each to become who we were (and are) and for our Savior and Father in Heaven and Their role in our lives.  

To my dear family and friends,

It is with heavy heart that I feel compelled to write this post this morning.  I have spent the past several years sharing experiences of a wonderful man, my husband and best friend, Terry Wayne Hebdon.

This morning my news is one of mixed emotion.  My heart rejoices at the fact that he is now pain free and able to move about on his own without the help of myself or my children to get him where he needed to be or to help move him to a more comfortable sitting or laying position.  However wonderful that fact is, my heart feels somewhat broken as it misses it's most precious companion of almost 35 years. 

My beloved and eternal companion, Terry Wayne Hebdon, passed away peacefully yesterday morning, 10 December 2014.  He is in a better place and has certainly spent time greeting loved ones who have gone before, including his parents and a younger brother.  No doubt he is enjoying every moment.  However true that is, I cannot help but think that he too may be missing us here and I treasure in the thought that his spirit will still be felt here on earth to help sustain those of us he left behind.

Terry did not want to die, but knew that it was the Lords plan for him..., for us.  There were many things he wanted to live for and he fought a good fight as he battled for more than ten years with this awful disease we call cancer. His body began to shut down and he could often feel his mind was confused.  He loved to learn and he loved to hear words used properly in speaking and writing so it hurt to feel so confused at times. 

Please forgive my imperfections in this post.  I often had Terry read through them before I posted them so he could help me correct my spelling and grammar imperfections, but this morning I am on my own. 

In many ways I do feel on my own, but I also want to make sure that you understand that I also feel a very strong presence and love from above.  I know that my Savior loves me and that our loving Heavenly Father is aware of my every need and will help me through every minute of the day and night.  I cannot do it alone and I am so grateful for Their presence in my life.  I know They will help me and each of my children and grandchildren to carry on here on earth through our mortal existence so that we may meet once again in heaven to rejoice together with this wonderful man, my husband, a loving father and grandfather, a brother and son, an uncle, a cousin, a nephew, a friend. 

It seems fitting now to share one of his poems with you and as I try to consider which poem I struggle to choose just one. 

... 

I went to the office just now to get the folders with Terry's poems so I could find the right poem to share.  On my way back, with those folders tucked tight in my arms against my heart I saw this,

and this,

and then this.

My house is filled with visions of hope and love from our Savior, the Prince of Peace.  We often refer to these experiences as a tender mercy or small miracles, but what we call them is not as important as the fact that they exist in large measure and I look forward to each and every one.

You may notice that the photos above are blurry.  I wanted to retake them and tried, but with the darkness in the room around me and the lights on the greenery shining so brightly, (sharing a message of hope from the Light above, from He who is the Light of the World), it would not come more clearly.  I left the blurry photos because they seem almost a symbol of the blurriness of my vision as my eyes are filled with tears so much of the time lately.  Someday I hope to stop crying.

After sitting at my computer and waiting for those photos to load into the post I looked up and found more.  More that reminds me of my Savior's love for me and for each member of my family.  For you and each member of your family.

And then this special view ...

I love this man, I am grateful to have him as my eternal companion.  I look forward to our reunion one day to hold him tight without hurting him and to see him face to face.  Until then, the smiling face above is the face I will see.

I know he loves me and I now know what poem I will share with you.  It was a special moment during a difficult time and it is close to my heart and to those who shared it with me.  I will share the experience and the poem written by my love.


The day we were admitted to the hospital for Terry's last few hours on earth the hospital chaplain came in wishing to help comfort us.  In our selfish moment of grieving we mentioned how it seemed he spent too much time there, but while he was there he asked about Terry and what he did and liked.  I mentioned that he liked to write poems.  The chaplain asked more about the poems and if there were any romantic poems.  I answered to the affirmative, sharing that the very first poem I ever knew him to write was one such poem.  We wished we had Terry's poem book with us and when Dana went home for a couple hours she brought back one of the books. 

Wednesday morning after Terry had passed away and we were sitting in the room together (with heavy hearts) Thomas picked up that book and began to read it. He was soon filled with emotion and handed the book to Dana so she could read one of those poems.  The first poem in the book, the first poem I ever knew Terry to write, and it was to me.  It was written 35 years ago, December 4th, a couple months before we were married.   This poem now helps me find comfort in a very tender time.

Terry did not give this poem a title, but I did when I put it in the book. I call it "A Love Letter" because that is what it was to me, and that is what it still is to me.

My heart is full
it cannot write
and so my hand picks up the plight

To express to you
my love and care
and thank you most
for being there

For permitting my acquaintance
with you to grow
and become a love
that's true we know

A thing that thrives
when we're together
a bonding force
for worse or better

An emotion that
one day may be
a light far off
that we can see

Which guides us both
in our trek together
bringing sunshine
in stormy weather

That utopia we both
must strive to find
through tenderness
and being kind

Now let it be said
before I'm through
Elaine, my dearest
I do love you!


This was more special to me than what my children even knew at the time, because for a couple weeks I had secretly and selfishly wished that Terry might write a poem for me and leave it for me to find after he passed away.  This was it, and my heart was full, and I am so grateful that it was brought to my attention at such a needful time.


I have shared with you some very tender feelings today and I hope they somehow help you know of the love that Terry and I shared and will continue to share, and of the love I have for and feel from our Heavenly Father and our Savior, Jesus Christ. 

I believe that Terry would be pleased with what I shared this morning because he would often comment on how special it was that friends and family would read this blog to learn about our little part of the world and he felt the love that came from each of you.

So, with that, I send a special thanks from him and from me for your love and concern, for your comments and for your unselfish service, and especially for your prayers on our behalf.  When people have asked me what they can do I have often suggested that they continue to pray for us.  If you send the prayers upward they will rain back down on us and we will be lifted. 

THANK YOU!
We love you!
 

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

LIFE AS A FATHER   
by Terry Hebdon 
written May 1984


A father is born on the self same day
As his first born child, together that way.

They start new life, so scary to ask,
But together they grow to meet the task.

And with a mother come to be
What we all know as a family.

So through the days and span of years
They calm each one, the other's fears.

Until behold the father looks,
He isn't looking, he's reading those books.

And many other things does see,
"This child of mine is just like me!"

So time has flown, the child once small,
Is grown up, not young at all.

At last the father in quiet does confess,
I'm slower than he, I didn't progress

Nearly as fast, nor as much as he,
For look at him now, a father he'll be.

So he seems disappointed but still he can say;
"We both were born on the self-same day."



We send our love to all the fathers in our family and in our lives. 
WE LOVE YOU!

Terry doesn't read this often, but I still want to express my love for him ...
I LOVE HIM - THE FATHER OF OUR CHILDREN - MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE!
It's as simple as that ..., yet so very complex.  I don't know what more to say ....

image found on pinterest

Momma's Dreams

Families are forever,
Or so it has been said.
They're that way in momma's dreams
While she's asleep in bed.

She sees the youngsters happy,
Playing nicely to her it seems,
Very kind and cheerful,
These children in momma's dreams.

She sees a house so well kept,
With paint and polished beams,
All is neat and orderly,
At least in momma's dreams.

The yard outside is perfect,
The lawn, the flowers gleam.
A beautiful wonder of landscape,
At least in momma's dreams.

The young man that she married
Is an obedient "puff of cream",
More handsome than in real life,
At least in momma's dreams.

Now mother's dreams are funny.
Moms treat them differently.
She sets out to accomplish them,
Perhaps not like you and me.

That's a mothers work on earth,
To build a home of heaven.
That all there in will be blessed
Because of momma's dreamin'.

Sometimes mommas complete their dreams.
Their yard is neatly done.
Their children seem to work and play
In blissfulness and in fun.

Their house and husband are just right,
The way she dreamed they'd be.
Truly moms can often make
A family heavenly.

If you find your momma dreaming
You just let her stay.
The dream is the beginning
Of momma's perfect day.


Written by Terry in May 1991

A Tribute To Mothers

 

Happy Mother's Day

to my beautiful mother!

to each of my grandchildren's mothers!

to my sisters

and friends everywhere! 

 

image from here

 

 

A Tribute to Mothers

I'm glad there is a Mother's Day,

I'm glad we think of it in May.

I'm glad that Mother's, like April rain,

Bring new life to earth again.

 

Just like the sunshine of the spring

Mother's brighten everything.

And if a storm cloud should pass by

Moms know all the answers why.

 

They help us out through thick and thin,

To aid us on and help us win,

And send us off, each on our way,

A little better every day.

 

Now, a mothers wage is very low.

She isn't paint to cook or sew,

To clean, or mop, or wash, or dust,

Or fix the pipes so full of rust,

 

Or haul the kids from place to place

With still a smile upon her face.

"No pain, No gain!" she's heard to say

As off she goes another way.

 

So maybe today is the appointed time

To repay our moms every dollar and dime.

To give them a raise for all they do,

To show them honor, and praise them too.

 

Mothers, Thank you!  You're all so great,

And we hope this tribute is not too late,

For you to be able to relax for awhile

And take in today with a joyful smile.

 

Thanks!  Happy Mother's Day!

 

 

Poem written by Terry for a Mother's Day Sacrament Meeting in 1988

 

 

A Season For Strength





image from here



I thought maybe it was time for another poem Terry wrote. 

A Season For Strength

Now is the season for strength

in all the ways of measure.

To help our fellow man

and lay up Heavenly treasure.

Much more there is to do

than thus far we have done.

Read the scriptures, do what's right,

all in the family be one.

The gospel light will guide us



into paths both straight and true.

If we strive with all our might,

our very best to do.

God's will must go forth,

and we're here to help along.

In word, in action, in deed,

in worship and in song.

Now is the time for strength,

we must exercise every way.

The work to do is here for you,

the season for strength is TODAY!

Written September 1983



 

Blessed Parting II

After the death of his father, Terry wrote a poem titled "Blessed Parting", and it was printed on a bookmark, given at the funeral. A few months later Terry found these words entering his mind, and he put to pen and paper to save them for the appropriate time. Now is that time, as we share it with you...In memory of the one we love.

Blessed Parting was dedicated to Terry's father,
Keith Auger Hebdon
17 December 1921 - 5 July 2011.

Blessed Parting II is dedicated to his mother,
Idris Egbert Hebdon
7 January 1921 - 17 January 2012.


Blessed Parting II

The linger longer method
Is also a plan divine.
It’s how grandma proved to all of us
That she would never whine.

Perhaps you can remember
When grandpa passed away;
It was grandma who lead the music
For the closing song that day.

Some would say she’s stoic.
Others would say she’s strong.
Even others would mention giving.
None of them would be wrong.

When you think of departed Grandma
Think of bread or a popcorn ball
And you will certainly realize
That she isn’t dead at all.

But she continues living
Just not in this particular place.
She’s with Keith and the other loved ones
Who have ascended to greater Grace.

Life Sketch of Idris Egbert Hebdon - given by Terry Wayne Hebdon

Idris Egbert Hebdon
A unique name, for a singular lady.
Many great people and pioneers of this area have passed away in the last several years. In timber terms “we’ve lost too many of our finest old growth trees” or in our desert we would say “sages”. Mom was one of these.

If we were to ask who has had some of moms home made bread or scones many would acknowledge. If we were to ask who has felt of her healing art many more would acknowledge. If we were to ask who has been treated as a special friend the response would be over whelming; or who has received a letter, note or word of kindness or uplifting phone call, or invitation, or visit or finally, if we were to ask who has received a lesson or been taught in any way by her and would you all stand, I’m confidant that our dearly deceased would receive a complete hearty unanimous resounding standing ovation.

If mom were beside me now she would use a bit of her dramatic flair and make sure I spoke up, stood straight, and made sure all could hear and understand. She’d say, “tell them all thanks so much for coming”. She’d say, “tell them I love them”, and sheepishly she would ask “why are there so many?” The response would be, “mom, it’s because we love you”. It’s like the scripture of Jesus. Why did the people love Him so? Because He first loved us. This would please her.

We’ve heard before of the stories of St. Peter meeting people at the Pearly Gates. The most common greeting Peter gets is “Hi Pete, I’m off to see my loved ones,” and hurriedly they would enter. When mom arrived she stopped and enjoyed the beauty of the scene. Then she greeted Peter shaking his had in both of hers and gently kissed the back of his hand as their grasp let go. She asked him how he was. She thanked him for the warm welcome when all along she had made the experience so inviting. Peter suggested she could proceed now so she slowly did. As she looked back upon leaving she was happy - Peter was there on a chair she insisted that he use. He had a glass of milk, some warm bread with peanut butter and raspberry jam. His shoes were off because she had rubbed his feet - He too was happy!

On a very bitter winter day January 7, 1921 mom challenged the -30 degree temperature and made her entrance as the first child of the Hollis Russ Egbert and Marie Antoinette Karren Egbert family, at the home of her paternal grandfather in Marysville Idaho. Cold winters and short summers instilled in mom a tenacious self reliance and determination to always be prepared. In their winter wonderland which is just south of the west entrance of Yellow Stone National Park, mom and her family were not alarmed at all to be snow bound for days / weeks at a time. During the summer they prepared and preserved food for the winter. They had sheep and cattle and pigs and chickens, and her father was a good butcher. The meat would be hung in the shed and cut off as needed. As you can imagine in these conditions there was no need for a freezer.

In mom’s younger years she was her mothers good helper, her fathers go-for girl, and a special big sister to her younger brothers and sisters. Numerous cousins, family, and friends made for many happy times growing up. They lived near the river, so between the garden, the farm, the livestock, the fish, the berry patches, their own industry, ingenuity, and fore thought, they seemed to do quite well.

Mom did very well in school. She was an excellent student and even helped others to learn. She received special assignments from some of her teachers which pleased her very much.

Once at recess a fellow male class mate tried to take the baseball bat from mom, as he almost always did when it was her turn. Somehow she got it from him and hit him over the head with it. He went down with a thud. She thought she had killed him. To her amazement and great relief he did regain consciousness before the bell rang for recess to end. Mom chose to be the last student to enter the building so she could receive her punishment somewhat by herself. The teacher said nothing. As school dismissed that day, once again she hung back just in case the teacher needed to speak with her. Nothing was ever said about this incident. As you can imagine recess was pretty smooth from then on.

Idris graduated from high school and received a guitar as a graduation present. She loved that guitar and used it to bring music and happiness to herself and others.

Mom was very pleased she could attend Ricks College in Rexburg Idaho. Once again she excelled in school. She participated in drama and music, as well as doing well in her studies. She graduated with an Associates degree in teaching and was considered at the top of her class. After college graduation she was the first one to be interviewed and offered her first teaching job $95.00 a month - things were going well. She taught 4th grade for two years. She held 5 boys back and taught them again the next year. One mother thanked her so much for taking the extra time to help so her boy could say “Now I can learn easier.”

Mom had a way with teaching music. She was often called upon to help other teachers teach their students the songs they were supposed to sing for the play they performed. Mom said, “I guess I was just born with a knack of teaching. I was happy to help them have fun learning.”

Keith Auger Hebdon was the one who finally won mom’s heart and they were married June 21st, 1944. As a special wedding gift mom’s parents gave them 2 woolen blankets from the Minnesota Woolen Mills. This was the mill to which her father sent the wool from the family flock.

The subsequent years were spent teaching school, farming, and wishing for children. Thankfully the children began coming in 1949. There would be seven in all.

The love of land and water was too great for dad so in 1955 the family came to the Quincy area to farm. There was no water on the farm they purchased at Royal so they rented land in the Quincy, George are before moving where their home is now.

As many of you know, it takes special people to settle a land and conquer it’s difficulties and progress and prosper when everything is new and different. But, as a testament to mom and dad’s success in this endeavor there are numerous posterity who are grateful they excelled at that attempt.

Mom always kept a journal. She was a prolific writer. Some may remember her column in the Royal City paper, it was named “Prevailing Westerlies” She also wrote a song as part of a contest on the radio. She sent the song to Texas, won the contest, was mentioned over the air waves for her acumen in compositions and was sent a record of her song, sung and played by the radio station singer and orchestra.

Back to mothers writing. Her final journal entry was Dec. 27th, 2011. There were six empty pages after that. She mentioned once, “this is my last notebook.” Perhaps in one of those remaining six pages we can insert the following:

It was a windy day in the land she loved
When mom was called to depart.
Though the sand and the wind, and the wind and the sand
The place had a warm spot in her heart.

Many times she’d speak of this country
And call it a land “Royal”.
Fewer times she’d mention the difficult
And the constant need to toil.

“In my home is where I want to be
To live out the end of my days.”
So she stayed home and she stayed strong
And blessed others in so many ways.

In her final weeks as many here know
Every moment was cherished.
She was true and faithful and strong
Up till the moment she perished.

The Savior said to an afflicted youth
“Take up thy bed and walk”.
Our mother, as we saw her do
Left behind her bed and walked.

Into that realm we don’t recall seeing
But yet we know is there
She’s going to Keith and other loved ones
More good cheer to share.


Thinking once again of mom’s love of words and books and learning and teaching and writing; it may be interesting to know in all her conservatism and economy, she would not abide a malfunctioning or sub par pen. One best not be between her and the trash can when a writing utensil would disappoint.

To conclude - the words of an old time hymn. This hymn was sung at her father's funeral.

“Come lay her books and papers by
She shall not need them more
The ink has dried upon the page
So, softly close the door.
Her tired head with locks of white
And like the winter sun
Has laid to peaceful rest tonight
The teachers work is done.”


In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen


FYI
- The poem above was written by Terry.

- The song, Come Lay His Books and Papers By
"A poem turned song was written in his (Karl G. Maeser) memory. The words were written by Annie Pike Greenwood, with the music by L.D. Edwards. It is titled "Come, Lay His Books and Papers by." This song became an LDS hymn and appeared in the 1948 edition of the hymn book as hymn #338. After the title it states "In memory of Dr. Karl G. Maeser." It is not included in the 1985 hymn book."

Finding Joy in the Journey

This is Terry's sacrament meeting talk given 27 November 2011


The journey through life has a handrail. That handrail is the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is there to give direction, comfort and stability to all who choose to use it.

When we are very young the handrail is set at the height of our mother’s hand.  As we get older it is elevated slightly but easy to hold on to.  In our primary years it begins to become more important to us.  As youth our handrail offers instruction as well as support. These gospel instructions are in the For Strength of Youth, the Church magazines, parental counsel, the scriptures, YW and YM, Sunday School, Sacrament meetings, prayer, seminary and all wholesome and proper activities and all things that the gospel offers.

A little bit later this handrail leads to the temple, missions, sealings, baptisms for the dead, joyful family life, and in the end to eternity. The handrail provided by the Savior is the most sure way of finding joy in this our journey through mortality.

It has been said “Life is not about the destination, but the journey.” We know that the proper journey is the most important for it leads to the proper destination.

Have you ever been hiking in the mountains knowing you’re on the right path?  Doesn’t this give you peace and comfort and allow you to see your beautiful surroundings, rather than worrying where you are headed?  Being on the right path leads to a joyful journey!

This does not mean we won’t get tired sometimes.  Jesus himself was weary from His journey and sat down at that ancient Jacobs well to rest.  He wasn’t tired from His assignment from His Father, but His physical being needed rest.  It was here He met the woman to whom he introduced Himself as the Messiah saying; “I that speak to thee am He.”

I have a friend who when we talk always brings up his family.  Our last conversation he said, “I have a good wife and my kids don’t disappoint me!”  This is similar to what John said to Gaius by letter stating; “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.”  (3 John 1:4)  Knowing and walking in the truth brings joy to the journey.

There are many journeys discussed in the scriptures.  Even the Plan of Salvation was instituted to help us on our journey.  All Christ does in Heaven and on earth, both as a Spirit and then born of Mary, is to allow us to return to Him and our Father in Heaven.  Adam and Eve initiated this earthly journey.

Moses led a vast group of Israelites for 40 years as they journeyed in the wilderness.  Who supported them in their wanderings?  Who provided the manna?  Who provided the water from a rock?  Who gave them the Ten Commandments?  It was Jehovah, the Spirit son of Heavenly Father!  Who provides for us now?  Who delivers us from the grave?  Who extends His forgiveness that we may repent and be clean and come unto Him?  Jesus Christ, as the physical and spiritual Son of Heavenly Father.

We on this earthly journey can find joy in knowing we are not alone. Knowing God knows and understands and loves each of us brings joy to the journey.

There are many other scriptural accounts from which to learn. Joseph who was sold into Egypt journeyed with a band of Ishmaelites, was re-sold to Potiphar, was put over his whole house, was imprisoned and eventually, through never losing faith or sight of who he was, saved the entire nation from famine, and his father’s household as well.

Ammon, our great missionary friend and a true Nephite, journeyed to the kingdom of Lamoni.  Through his strength in the Lord and his own diligence Ammon found favor in the eyes of Lamoni and taught him and his whole kingdom the gospel.  Ammon was such a great representative of the Lord that Lamoni contended with his father. Then Ammon defended him with the sword and so great was the power of the Lord in Ammon that later Lamoni’s father and all his household were converted.  This conversion was because Aaron helped king Lamoni’s Father understand the gospel.  The king had a similar experience as his son and was truly converted.  The king said in prayer; “I will give up all my sins to know thee.”

Both King Lamoni and his father were thinking everything was fine in their kingdoms.  They were the top dogs, period!  But they learned they were in error.  They had the faith and the strength and courage to change. There is great joy in the journey through repentance and coming more fully unto Christ. 

As many of you know, Elaine is the author of an internet blog.  She keeps many informed and encouraged through her “We are Family” site.  I know several of you are nearly addicted to her writings.  This seems to be an important help to those who want to know of the goings on in our house.  Even though this, at times, is a nearly daily responsibility, Elaine finds joy in helping others. There is joy in the journey through being of service.  Those who help others be happy are usually happy.

We each have our own journey.  Many times we experience things we never thought we would.  Sometimes we feel all is well. Sometimes we feel like the top dog in our own kingdom or career or livelihood or family or whatever.  There are seasons of life when we know we are not.  No one is immune to hard times or difficulties. The only choice we have is how we will handle them.  With the handrail of the gospel we know we can make it through gracefully.

I would like to share a personal experience of someone who I believe handled life well.  On my very first chemo treatment my body was not used to receiving such strong foreign materials that were being introduced into it that day.  When this happened things got sort of rough and I threw up.  After some medication and time to settle down, the elderly lady to my left asked,  “What are you in for?”  It sounded like a question from a prison inmate; but I knew what she meant.  I told her and she asked, “Are you willing to accept some advice?”  I said “sure, to which she said, “You have to remember three things. You have to be positive, you have to have faith, and you have to pray.”  I said, “I believe all of that!” and she said, touching me on the arm, “You’re going to be fine!”  She knew because she lived it, and I could tell!  She’s right.

Partly because of her influence on March 2^nd 2010, just prior to going to the cancer center, the following was written; 

I’m Fine
 

Having cancer is like the throwing of a rock into a peaceful pool.  In many instances it can be very unsettling and disruptive.  Many times the cherished peace no longer remains.

 

There are times though that the scene can be a thing of beauty.  Perhaps the rocking of the gentle waves can set a floating leaf to dance, lively and delighted and made happy by the new found energy.

To the observer the ripples may extend clear to the ponds edge where they may seem to be an harassment to a slumbering frog, seeming to be a never ending teasing at which he wants to smile but never even blinks.  Is he pleased by this?  It’s hard to say.  He stays.
 

In other ways this cancer rock penetrating the calm becomes a nuisance, as to the fish who lurked below just ready to dine on a mosquito now no longer visible nor available for his favorite lunch.  If that rock had not entered the water things could be different.

 

For many the hope is that the rock will settle on the ponds floor, being seized upon by the mud and debris and for ever there remain.  Probably for all who have cancer this is the wish.  Out of sight but never out of mind we wish for its demise in obscurity.

 

In an odd way though, many of us as owners, are grateful for this rock. For though the disruptions and loss of calm, we become enlivened by the goodness of the constant ripple of kindness that seems to never end.  We have loved ones and care givers and other good people whom we never expected to ever know who have brought hope and help and faith and prayer and a positive attitude. We have doctors and nurses who never blink, who keep their eyes fixed upon the goal of making us well.  There are many through unseen efforts who are working to ensure that the rock remains submersed. If my rock should ever resurface I hope it won’t recognize me.

Sadly for many the splash is only the beginning and the rock is seemingly on a string, and those who know this fate awkwardly keep having it return to them.  We all wish this not to be the case.  But good can come from bad and happiness from sad strength from difficulty and experience from all.  So we seem to need to just make the best of it and trust in God.
 

We know that He who created all nature is the cure.  That He can fix our bodies.  That He can fix our spirits.  That He knows us.  That He loves us and that we will be alright, and that it will turn out better than we think. I’m fine!

 

 Written by Terry, 2 March 2010 (4:51 am)

There is another special journey of a lady on a donkey, who came to Jerusalem to be taxed.  On this trip the Savior of the world was born.  In a stable He drew his first breath.  Having descended below them all He came to earth in the most humble of circumstances.

Perhaps on that same donkey Joseph led Mary and Jesus to Egypt to save the Savior from the vicious and homicidal jealousy of King Herod.  When Herod died an angel told Joseph he could take his family back.  They ended up settling in Nazareth.

The journey of this extraordinary man would continue. His efforts were wholly for the betterment of others.  He blessed, He healed, He extolled and exhorted, He fulfilled the law, cleansed the temple, set up His Church, called the apostles, performed many miracles, did all that He was sent forth to do.

On His final earthly journey, once again upon a donkey, He made His triumphal entry into Jerusalem.  From there the scene erodes until the whole earth is threatened with darkness.  Only Christ Himself could overcome and supply the world with eternal light. From there to the resurrection, to today, He continues to give His all.  Is there a better example to follow?  Has anyone been more selfless, more loving, more divine?

It is by following Christ that we find joy in the journey. Maybe this joy is eternal and maybe our journey never ends.  Maybe we will always be learning and growing and progressing and helping others. Maybe as the pre-existence prepared us for earth life, this life prepares us for exaltation if we’re willing.    I’m sure this is so.

This is my testimony – the handrail extends to Heaven - in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen


This was posted first at 
http://waitingpatientlyonthelord.blogspot.com/2012/08/finding-joy-in-journey-terrys-talk.html