Deficient/I Need You!

This morning I was thinking of being deficient and needing Jesus.  This thought was front and center last night while serving patrons with obvious physical deficiencies in the temple.  Many times truths are brought into eternal focus through my blurry, tear filled eyes. 

One young patron was in a wheelchair while the temple workers rotated around her to administer the temple initiatory ordinances.  The other was older with obvious signs of aging, scarce hair, mottled, wrinkled skin.  From my viewpoint, she didn't really make a great deal of effort concealing these deficiencies.  It is what it is. 

 I could deeply relate to both deficient patrons and their desire to come to Jesus to be clean, be whole, to be enough.  Actually, to be exceedingly more than enough by Him, through Him, while seeking a blessing at His hands. I have the great privilege of having authority to be Jesus's hands while administering ordinances in the temple.  I do not take this lightly.

A couple of months ago I remember being embarrassed as I placed my wrinkled, thinned skinned, age spotted, unkempt hands next to my same aged temple coordinator's beautiful, smooth, perfectly manicured hands.  It was pretty easy to feel deficient.  I don't exactly know why my hands haven't withstood the test of time, but they sure are a physical symbol of "working my fingers to the bone".  I guess I can take pride in that. 

Yet pride is the "original sin." Satan stated, "I haven't done anything wrong". There is nothing wrong with me.  But Satan was quick to point out the deficiencies of others-"Look, You're naked! Use fig leaves to cover your nakedness- Quick- Hide!" 

I know I'm intent on hiding my sins, covering them up, trying to fix things on my own, or just plain denying that problems exist.  I'm not deficient at all.  Or at least I want to appear that way for a second.  Hey I wear makeup!  I certainly don't like when someone points out my problems or deficiencies.  "Feedback" they call it.  Who likes that?  I'd much rather stay in a cozy non-judgmental place or "net positive" place of "I am enough."  Period.  Hey, I'm "employee of the year!".  I don't need to change anything, right?  Wrong. 

Humans are enough! We don't have any problems right?  There is no lack, no deficiency with anyone or anything.  Just do your best! Do whatever you feel is right.  There is no wrong or right. Stop being judgmental!  Only love yourself completely. Just try to be a decent human being. You don't need Jesus to love one another.  You don't need Jesus to be a good person.  You don't need Jesus or any of his Father's commandments or ordinances.  And you especially don't need His church or his authorized messengers, prophets or apostles, pointing out your problems or telling you to repent.  You don't need anything or anyone. Embrace your self-sufficiency!

Instead, I choose to embrace my deficiency!  Yes, I am NOT enough BUT with him, I AM.  Oh, how I need Jesus!  I will gladly join with all those sinners who come to his holy house to seek forgiveness.  From the Holy One, who stands ready to receive me, with his own "holy" hands.  Perhaps, in part, the Lord kept the holes in his hands, wrists, and side to remind me that I am deficient so I need Him.  Embrace that!

Olympic Hopeful

This morning I was thinking about the pressure associated with being a hopeful one.  I’ve been following the Olympic Gold hopeful in Men's figure skating, Illia Malinin, for the last 3 months on YouTube. I was excited to see him win Gold, reinforcing his title duly earned as “The Quad God”.  I fully expected him to come through, to skate flawlessly under pressure as I had seen him do so in all the other competitions. Like many, I was shocked and disappointed after he fell twice, popped three jumps, including his signature quadruple Axel.  When I initially saw the Olympic headlines, I didn't even want to watch him fall.  It was evidence that he was only human, not a robot, or a "god" as in his ubiquitous reference by the media. 

In response to his Olympic skating performance, Illia Malinin stated, "All of this pressure, all of the media, and just being the Olympic gold hopeful was a lot. It was too much to handle.”  He continued, "especially going into that starting pose, I just felt like all the traumatic moments of my life really just started flooding my head.."

I certainly don't understand the pressure of being on the Olympic stage.  However, some people really do understand and deal with the crushing pressure of high expectations.  They can handle the hype of being the favorite, or the hopeful, or the chosen one.

 Last Sunday, I looked forward to seeing a Tom Brady, or the Manning brothers level of quarterback response to the crushing pressure of the defense.  Instead, I witnessed a bunch of incomplete passes and a boring game characterized by the skilled defensive line.  Bring back the dazzling days when the the QB was able to rifle a perfectly executed pass even when a blitz was on.  Expectations and hopes couldn't be higher, but these athletes find a way to handle the pressure. 

So how do I deal with high expectations?  Pressure at times comes from judgment of my sub-par performance.  Sometimes, I lower my expectations.  That seems to alleviate some of the pressure. Take an easier path so I can feel good about myself.  But at what cost?  The Olympics or any high-stakes activity is a good reminder that "going for the gold" is a worthy endeavor.

D. Todd Christopherson reminds us, 

 "Our Heavenly Father is a God of high expectations. His expectations for us are expressed by His Son, Jesus Christ, in these words: “I would that ye should be perfect even as I, or your Father who is in heaven is perfect” (3 Nephi 12:48). He proposes to make us holy so that we may “abide a celestial glory” (D&C 88:22) and “dwell in his presence” (Moses 6:57). He knows what is required, and so, to make our transformation possible, He provides His commandments and covenants, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and most important, the Atonement and Resurrection of His Beloved Son."

Much more than an Olympic or Superbowl hopeful, Jesus Christ is the HOPE of Israel.  Think of the crushing weight of expectations from all the people seen and unseen who absolutely knew he was GOD.  Think of the "traumatic moments" and "negative thoughts" that surely "flooded his head." As Mark records, Jesus began to be sore amazed and be very heavy." 

 I added to the pressure Jesus felt.  Not only the weight of my own sins and imperfections but I believe I was also part of that collective spiritual audience of fellow brothers and sisters who fully expected Jesus to come through with his promise to be the Savior of the World.  I expected him to perform flawlessly-to do the "hardest thing that ever was done." The highest expectations and hopes of the universe hung in the balance...and He did it! He won!  A whole lot more than than a "gold medal."  He earned the title of being the God of Hope- of all our hopes. 

The song, Gethsemane puts it in perspective:

The hardest thing that ever was done

The greatest pain that ever was known

The greatest battle that ever was won

This was done by JESUS!

The fight was won by JESUS!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxjQeqbzVq4

 

,

O

Independent Storytelling

 This week, I had the privilege of participating in the Sundance Film Festival Student Screenings.  They were held in the Rose Wagner Theater in SLC. It was our last chance since the festival is moving to Colorado.  It was the first Sundance festival since the passing of its founder, Robert Redford.  It is the end of a glorious era where independent filmmakers descended upon Park City once a year.  I am sad about that. But it does not diminish what I experienced recently.

 I divided our students into three different groups to increase supervision and safety, which meant I got to see three different screenings! 1. "American Pachuco-The Legend of Luis Valez" 2. AI Doc-Or How I Became an Apocaloptimist" and 3. "Queen of Chess". We were watching these independent movies for their initial screenings.  It is most satisfying when the same movie I took the students to last year, "Deaf President Now" is now being streamed on Apple+.  I saw it first before it was purchased. What a unique opportunity!

Besides the youthful energy of being in an auditorium full of 9th-12th graders, there is a distinct, electrifying energy during the Q&A session with the producers, directors, actors, etc. of each film.  This is what makes it special! This is what makes it magical!  Many of the students don't really understand what they are experiencing.  It goes over their head and doesn't land in their heart.  But for me, well...that is why I want to write.

These films were curated by the festival organizers especially for teenagers.    They were all excellent! World Class!  Important! Powerful!  Essential!   Each documentary was educational, entertaining and engaging.  More than just learning facts about Chicano history and dramatics,  AI, and chess, each movie was deeply infused with the spirit of what Sundance is all about-independent storytelling. I also saw a common thread of family within the larger context of the human family.  

Day One: "American Pachuco-The Legend of Luis Valdez".  Luis used his art to give us a window into Chicano experience. Starting with a simple elementary school project of making a paper mache puppet  to later writing and directing the box office hit, "La Bamba".   The documentary illustrated our DBT focus of validating others by increasing understanding of unique perspectives and the power of expressive arts. 

More than a rehearsal of Chicano social history and dramatic art, the film illustrated how Luis's family history informed and directed his art. His connections to his brother and the conflict between two different American experiences were illustrated in the movie, "La Bamba."   He brought his people together through his art and fostered awareness of social inequity.  In a time of ICE raids, it addressed the question of what it means to be an American and how determining who belongs here is not a matter of skin color. 

 The Q&A after the show was extra special, especially when the director, David Alvarados, singled out our school and spoke directly to our students, inspiring them in their creative pursuits and life success.  We also received a special box of Sundance swag.  It couldn't get better than this.

Day 2:  "AI Doc:  Or How I Became an Apocaloptomist"

This was the film that initially looked most interesting, but I shied away from it due to content warnings.  A young teacher really encouraged us to attend anyway and I decided to take the older boys.  I'm so glad we did!  It was perfectly alligned with our DBT group focus of using,"Wise Mind".  It also illutrated dialectics with the peril and promise of AI.  Once again, I appreciated the personal story of one of the academy award winning directors, Daniel Roher.  Though the movie includes interviews from top AI experts, he used his marriage relationship and birth of his first son as a backdrop for exploring these AI issues.  I noticed a reference to his impulsivity of rushing into marriage and how the world is rushing into AI.  The movie reinforces DBT ideas of reducing impulsivity by using our collective Wise Mind, being "mature" and walking a middle, balanced path.

I was star struck when I realized the Q&A was with the same filmakers who won Academy Awards for"Everything Everwhere All at Once."  These guys are huge in the industry and here they were standing right in front of me looking like everyday normal people.  They also had one of the important AI experts from the film on stage with the director.  It was pretty magical when these same people approached our group in the lobby and asked us how we liked their film and let the teacher take a picture with them.  Wow!  

Day 3:  "Queen of Chess".  Our group focus was ABC- Accumulate Positive Emotion (by acting according to values), Build Mastery, Cope Ahead.  It was pretty easy to discover how the subject of the documentary was a prime example of using each of these skills.  We learned about Judit Polgar, a Hungarian chess grandmaster, the strongest female chess player of all time. I accuse my students of being oblivious to all things important but truth is I'm pretty oblivious as well.  I didn't know the name.  Though vaguely familiar, I also didn't know the name of Rory Kennedy, the filmaker. 

 Once again, far from being a movie about chess, It was Judit's life story and her experience of being raised in communist Hungary with a father bent on experimenting to create genius in each of his three daughters. I appreciated her focus and accomplishment. I thrilled to the themes of female empowerment and fem punk songs.  I appreciated her journey of discovery as she identified additional values and became an incredible human being.  The Q&A included a life size zoom call from Judit answering questions from the students. She is larger than life so it was fitting to see her full screen!

 Rory was on stage to answer questions as well. She encouraged students to protest againt Trump and encourage the rule of law.  I thought she just looked like one of those Sundance celebrity producer/director types who was also an activist. The Q&A took a different format than the other two days as they had a moderator ask direct questions and call on students, instead of using cellphones.  It was more controlled.  At first, I was a little confused that Netflix had already purchased the film and is showing it next month on their streaming service. While driving the students back to campus,  I wondered if Rory was related to the famous Kennedy's. 

That evening I googled Rory Kennedy and was blown away.  She is THE 11th child of Bobby Kennedy! She owns her own production company, Moxie Firecracker Films so of course she wasn't looking for a buyer at the Sundance Festival.  I watched her documentary on her mother, Ethel Kennedy. I was inspired.   Rory Kennedy is a power player.  She embodies the mission of both of her parents in a lifetime of independent film making and activism. In fact, when Amy Redford, daughter of Robert Redford, was interviewed recently about the upcoming festival, she specifically mentioned Rory Kennedy's documentary, "Queen of Chess."  And here, I almost didn't see it because I thought it might be "too boring" for our students. 

My participation in the Sundance Festival has enriched my life.  People are amazing!  I am inspired by personal stories told by amazing filmakers.  Ultimately, we are all independent storytellers as we write our personal histories each day of our life, with each choice. Though Sundance is going away, independent storytelling never will.  We are here to stay!

"Hey Dad, Dead Dad-I Need a Little Help Here."

I couldn't resist a musical reference to the Beetlejuice's "Dead Mom" song, especially because I've been thinking about dead dads lately.  My father's birthday was yesterday, January 4th.  He died so young at only 65 years old!   I would have loved to have been able to talk with him for the last 25 years.  I surely have needed a "little help here" on earth.  And I'm positive he would have been there for me, as he was throughout his life.  A vivid example of his help was his generous financial support while I attended Brigham Young University right after high school.  He would have much preferred me to go down the street to our local, almost free, Long Beach City College.  However, my dad supported my dreams and goals, even if he complained.   How I miss him!

Jeffrey R. Holland, recently deceased (December 27, 2025) was BYU president during my important years of my university education.  But he was much more than my president.  He was sort of like a dad to me.  I know I was just one of 25, 000 students but when he spoke, I felt like he was speaking to me personally.  His passionate and fiery testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, fueled my own fire of faith.  It was like electricity surging through our bodies when he spoke in the Marriot Center at BYU.  Even though we were all part of his professional stewardship, it felt like he cared about the one just as much as the masses. We knew he loved us.  I knew he loved me, like a father loves a child.  It was an honor and privilege to be part of his BYU flock.  

It was absolutely no surprise when he was called as one of the twelve apostles for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.   It was fun for others to discover his fire, his eloquence, his powerful teaching and most importantly, his powerful witness of Jesus Christ.  Of course he was my favorite! Many apostles and prophets have died during my lifetime, but I mourned Jeffrey R. Holland's death in a different way.  It was personal and I felt like I had a unique relationship with him.  I really didn't, I mean I'm just one in a sea of past students, but still, it meant something to me.

I had an experience several years ago that seemed to sum up this connection to Jeffrey R. Holland. I was a young mom struggling to get to church sacrament meeting on time with my 5 children, ages 5-12.  We were late, as usual, and I scurried to the front row pew in the chapel with my chaotic tribe.  I was frazzled and unorganized but tried to settle down.  Then I looked up to the stand. Sitting right in front of me next to our bishop, was Jeffrey R. Holland.  I don't know why he was visiting this particular ward as an unexpected visitor, but he was there.  As a visiting authority, he gave his testimony and some words of counsel.  I was close enough to see into his big blue eyes and he could definately see me and my children.  It was the closest I had ever been, I definately wasn't one of the 25, 000 in a basketball arena seeing him through the jumbo-tron.  

After the meeting, I went up to shake his hand and tell him that I had been one of his BYU students.  He responded with words, "I claim every one of my BYU students forever." (or something like that).  These loving words were coupled with a warm handshake and hug.  It confirmed in my heart and mind, that yes, he was like my BYU dad.  

Both of these "dead dads" helped me in different ways. Though these two men were very different, they both gave me a glimpse of what my own Father in Heaven is really like.  Through their example of fathering, they helped Heavenly Father feel more real to me-more tangible in my life.  Both of them taught me about how my Father in Heaven feels about me.  Oh, how I know, God, my Father loves and cares about me.  And though I cannot talk or listen to my dead dads anymore in a way I would like, I can turn to the one who will never die, my Eternal Father.  One that continues to answer my plea for "a little help here."   

$200

Last month, when I was running around like a crazy person at our "Battle of the Bands," I had $200 stolen from my briefcase.  I didn't notice it missing until that evening when I went to have my hair colored.  I assumed it was one of my impulsive students who just couldn't resist the temptation to steal cash.  I had such a sinking feeling when I realized I had been robbed.  It was hard to describe the feeling of loss, violation, and disappointment, quickly coalescing into a distinct pit in my stomach. I should have been more careful.  I should never carry cash in my wallet.  Stupid.  I certainly shouldn't have left my bags unattended anywhere near the vicinity of my students.  Nevertheless, what was done, was done. I alerted staff to be on the lookout and continued to get my hair colored to the tune of $160!  So expensive for me!

That evening, I was awakened by a memory. I saw two distinct dollar bills.  I touched them!  Right near the beginning of our music performances I grabbed my briefcase and sat directly in back of the judges.  I noticed two bills directly underneath the judge's feet.  I motioned to the young adult judge to pick up the bills saying, "You dropped some money."  Another therapist even witnessed it.  The judge picked it up.  I didn't think anything of it UNTIL I realized that was probably MY $200 bills.  The next morning I sent a text to the organizer asking him to reach out to the judges, fully expecting that at least the judge guy would say, "Oh yeah,  I picked that up".  Or at least offer some explanation whether it was indeed my $200 or his own cash.  I waited for a response.  Crickets.  Nothing.  The organizer finally texted back that each of the three judges hadn't picked anything up off the floor or seen any cash laying around. 

This time I felt sick.  Are you kidding me?  I SAW the judge pick up the cash!  I can understand the impulsive students taking it out of my bag-but dishonesty from the adults?  It made me feel sick inside.   My best guess is that one of the boys took it out of my wallet that was in my briefcase.  When they saw me pick it up, I think they may have felt remorse when they realized it was "Erin's bag".  Maybe they didn't want to steal from me. So using their stupid teenager brain,  as one of the boys went to the restroom, he passed by me and discretely dropped the two bills on the floor where I might find it.  AND I DID!  But I thought it was the judges money!  

Regardless, it was gone.  With time, it became a humorous story.  People felt bad for me.  My tenant, felt sorry for me so she paid her rent early.  My boss said she would find a way to get my $200 back to me.  Throughout the month, it was like the video, "Windows of Heaven" where cash rained down on me, specifically in the specific amount- $200.  I was glad I had been one of the first people to sign up for tithing declaration in October!

The first $200 came that evening as my son paid back a prior loan for the exact amount of $200.  Then the same week, my mother sent a check for the exact amount of "$200".  Then my boss gave me $200 worth of gift cards right before my trip to Boston.  Then when returning from my trip, my son gave me $200 worth in cash along with a big hug at the gas station.  Then last week, while in the residential directors' office, they whipped out another gift card for $200 "just because". So for the initial $200 loss, I received $1000- all in $200 chunks.  

Talk about being financially blessed, financially supported, financially protected!  I think that is pretty amazing.  Of course, it all comes and goes so easily.  Most of it has already been paid out again to other adult children for various needs.  But I have to, I must recognize God's hand in this financial blessing.  It was not just a coincidence.  And to make it clear, the $200 symbolic gesture was repeated at least FIVE different times!  I am grateful for his generous care as he works through the GENEROUS HEARTS of my fellow human beings.  How gracious is our God!  

Chaos and Order

 This morning I was thinking about chaos and order.  Chaos so close to home and events so close together is cause to pause and think. The assassination of Charlie Kirk,  the Michigan church shooting, and an Orem Jr. High student suicide on a school field trip have been sources of great anxiety.  How do we calm our own hearts? Where do we turn for peace?  How do we move forward?  How do we keep the children safe? 

I have my primary song answers.  I first turn to God through prayer.  I cling to my covenant relationship with Christ and his gospel. I find safety in keeping the commandments. I try to make a difference in my own little corner of the world in spreading light, life, and love.  I find refuge and peace as I gather with the Saints at church and in the temple. 

A day before the shooting, President Russel Nelson, our prophet died at age 101. In all this commotion, members of the church of Jesus Christ gathered around the world and tuned in to General Conference for answers, for peace.  There was some speculation about a new prophet and a new apostle and how the church would respond to the recent chaotic events around the world. 

What impressed me about this General Conference and our current president of the Quorum of the Twelve, was a profound sense of order.  There is a certain way the Lord does things through his priesthood.  There was no frenzied rush to call a new first presidency, appoint an additional apostle, or announce new temples, policies, or procedures.  The messages are rooted in Christ and his gospel, preached by His authorized servants.  There is no panic.  The church is prepared and is helping all of us prepare.  

I am so grateful for this measured, calm, orderly response.  Not impulsive, but grounded in prioritized values and eternal realities.  I'm like a child looking at his parent to figure out how to respond to all this stress-all this mess.  The church is that parent for me.  I watch and try to emulate the calm as I navigate chaos. There is so much I cannot control, but there are things I can influence and even put in order.  

Though God is in control, I'm glad he does not control our choices.  It makes for a messy, chaotic world but for everything and everyone who will listen and respond to His voice, there is a great ordering.  For that is how the Great Creator brought the cosmos into existence-order from chaos. 

Baby Moments

 Happy Birthday to Sonny and Rooney! They are my grandbaby twins born on the same day, same half hour, but in different hospitals to different parents!  I've had so many precious moments with them during the past two years.  I don't do well capturing these moments with my cell phone camera, yet these moments of light and love make an impression on the invisible camera plate in my soul.  These small moments are mere snapshots of experience, but are still worth remembering.  These moments also form and strengthen our bond. I see them, and they see me. 

Not simply spectating as they grow up,  the moments I'm referring to are the ones where we see and experience the world together.  We increase our mutual understanding by being in each other's presence and find simple joy in it.  Here are a few recent snapshots:

Moment of Comfort: Noticing Rooney's reluctance to go to Nursery and holding him close, assuring him things would be okay as I stayed with him.  It's pretty easy to see his trembling lip and shaking body to discern his fear.  I don't want to say a hug absorbs the fear, but it does help me get closer to their feelings in an effort to understand and respond.  I see you.  I got you.  I'm there for you.  

Moment of Delight: Later that hour, we played "Ring a Round the Rosie" for the first time with Rooney during this same Nursery class.  He was all lit up, wanting to do it again and again.  It was a joyful moment of simple delight.  

Moment of Work: It's one thing to point to a firetruck or see a firefighter mow the grass in front of the station.  It's another thing to witness the same firefighters respond to a call and watch them in action.  Sonny and I (and the 2 dogs) watched from the stroller as they calmly and quickly put on their pants, coats, and hats, jumped in the truck, and turned on the lights and sirens.  

Moments of Patience:  It's not easy to not get what you want when you want it or even at all.  Sonny has a loud, piercing cry (like the siren of a fire truck) when things don't go his way.  Even if it was only a short distance until he could ride his new bike on a more suitable surface (basketball court) rather than the thick grass, he still had to learn and wait.  It was great to see him understand and redirect his attention.  

Moment of Wonder:  Witnessing the Tracy Aviary Bird show from the first row with Sonny.  How thrilling it was for Sonny and me to have large birds of prey swoop over our heads and see them up close.  I held Sonny tightly in my lap so he would feel secure as he experienced new sights and sounds. 

Moment of Learning: Throughout the past seasons, I have enjoyed taking Sonny to the City Center Library's story time.  It is a refuge amidst Salt Lake City's urban chaos. It is a Mecca of interactive play and learning spaces. I would even call it a sacred space with dedicated professionals leading thoughtful, interactive, educational experiences for babies and toddlers.  We have had many learning moments together while singing, speaking, reading, writing, and playing.  

Moment of Pleasure:  Though I thought Rooney would enjoy making his first "Build a Bear", instead, he was terrified of the stuffing machine and overwhelmed. He experienced more joy running through the mall at full speed and sharing a Chick-fil-A kids' meal with Gram "E" in the food court.  I loved sitting close and looking into his eyes while holding the sauce as we dipped the nuggets and fries into the sauce.  We didn't need words.  Just a shared moment of pleasure. 

Though simple and small, these moments have great weight and meaning in my life. They give me a glimpse of what it means to have joy in my posterity, one by one. It is not a collective gathering of posterity to bask in their collective greatness.  At this time, I have the opportunity to bask in the individual greatness of their spirit as I spend time with them individually.   Rooney and Sonny are great! It is a privilege to be near them. It's about presence.  

It also reminds me how the Savior ministers to us one by one, individually. My testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ is based on these one-on-one moments of feeling His presence through His Spirit. They are fleeting moments, but they have made a lasting impression on my soul.   They are baby moments worth remembering.