Tag: angels

  • The Gift of Tongues and a Temple in Guatemala

    The Gift of Tongues and a Temple in Guatemala

    I recently learned a little about the Cessationist movement in Christianity. I learned that they believe many things have ceased in modern Christianity. One of the things they think has ceased is the gift of tongues.

    The Church of Jesus Christ is alive and well as is the gift of tongues.

    The most obvious example of the gift of tongues in Christ’s modern church is shown in the millions of 18-24 year-olds learning and speaking foreign languages to spread the gospel.

    I recently read of a true miracle in tongues, and I wanted to share.

    Allen Christenson writes the following:

    “I was privileged to help in the translation of the temple ceremony into K’iche’, a dialect of the Mayan Indians of Guatemala. In 1991, the Church brought up seven choice native Maya members of the Church to record the ceremony for the first time in their own language. Most had never traveled outside their own country. They arrived when we had a bad cold snap and snow storms last January. In a country where it never snows that was quite a shock. They wondered whether the flakes were volcanic ash, and bundled up with layer upon layer of clothing so that the snow would have no chance of touching their skin.

    The Maya today are for the most part illiterate, particularly in their native tongue. It has only been in recent years that some members of the church have begun to learn to read and write in the Maya language, so that they can read the scriptures and other church publications. This is a great tragedy, because until about 500 years ago the Maya were the most literate people in the Americas, preserving their history and culture with a sophisticated hieroglyphic script in hundreds of folded screen books. The Spanish Conquest in the early sixteenth century was a devastating blow to Maya literacy in Mexico and Guatemala. Great numbers of hieroglyphic texts were burned in an attempt to eradicate “idolatrous paganism.” Native scribes were singled out for persecution to such an extent that within one hundred years, the art of writing had nearly disappeared from among the Maya people. When I was a missionary in the Guatemala highlands, no one I knew could read in Maya. Because I opened most of the areas I worked in, the church was in its infancy and there were no members to prepare for the temple. The closest temple in fact was in Mesa, Arizona, and for a people who earned at best a dollar a day, a trip there was a goal which was simply impossible to even think about.

    Today there is a temple in Guatemala City. The Maya who were brought up to record the temple ceremony for their people had all taken out their own endowments and considered it a great privilege to have a part in bringing the blessings of the endowment to their people in a language that they could understand.

    For the first few days, the Maya were given time to read through their parts, review videotapes of the ceremony to practice their timing and voice inflections, and to prepare for the actual recording. It soon became apparent what an impossible thing we were asking them to do. Most of their homes had no electricity, and the rows of machines and blinking lights were frightening and intimidating. None could read any better than at a grade school level, sounding out each word at a time. Just getting out the words was a frustrating and time-consuming task. We frankly didn’t think that it would be possible for them to become proficient enough to read the text rapidly, much less instill in the words the spirit that such a sacred ceremony demands.

    I will never forget the first day we started to record. We put these poor, humble people in a little glass booth, surrounded by technical gadgets, microphones, and earphones and asked them to relax and speak the words with naturalness and the proper spirit. They were so frightened that they could not speak more than a few words at a time, and those were unusable.

    We all went back to our hotel rooms discouraged and felt that we were going to fail. The next day, I noticed a change in the Maya. They were unusually quiet and serious, but somehow they didn’t seem to be as afraid as the day before. When the first brother, who was assigned to read the part of Elohim, was called on to record his part, he stepped into the recording booth without hesitation. The window was set so high in the booth that we could barely see him, being only 5’4″ tall. He put on his earphones, closed his eyes and looked up momentarily, and then said quietly that he was ready. When I gave him his cue he began to speak in the most beautiful, flowing Maya that I had ever heard spoken. He read through three full pages without error before we had to stop him to check the sound level. When I cued him to stop, He asked if he had done something wrong and looked so apologetic that it broke my heart. I assured him that we just had to do some technical things and that he had done beautifully. The spirit was so strong that it was a physical presence that we all could feel. The emotion of it was overwhelming. The brother in charge of the recording instruments turned to me afterward and simply said, “We have just witnessed a miracle, one of the strongest manifestations of the gift of tongues that I have ever witnessed. His voice, inflection, and timing were as good as the best professional actors that we have in English, Spanish, or other of the more established languages.” When I asked this Mayan brother what had happened since the day before, he smiled and said that he knew the enormous importance of the temple endowment for his people and knew that he couldn’t do it on his own. He and the others had tried as hard as they could but that the words just didn’t come. So he had prayed last night to his Father in Heaven and told him that he just couldn’t do it without His help. He didn’t want his people for generations to come to hear his voice and weakness, but the voice of Elohim. He asked if his Father in Heaven would please come to that sound booth with him and speak for himself. He felt assured and that morning he never doubted that God would be there with him. One by one, each of the other Maya read through their parts with similar power and faith. [Allen J. Christenson, “Account of the Recording of the Temple Ceremony into K’iche’ Maya in 1991,” Personal Communication to Alan C. Miner]

    This is one example of a miracle. Miracles are rarely widely spread or publicized. Sometimes they are quiet, personal experiences. Sometimes the world never knows. But if you seek them out, if you look for them, they are there. Miracles happen every day in the world. Miracles happen every day in Christ’s church. Christ’s church is alive in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Miracles have not ceased. The gift of tongues is alive and active.

    Mormon 9:20

    And the reason why he ceaseth to do miracles among the children of men is because that they dwindle in unbelief, and depart from the right way, and know not the God in whom they should trust.”

    Moroni 7:29

    And because he hath done this, my beloved brethren, have miracles ceased? Behold I say unto you, Nay; neither have angels ceased to minister unto the children of men.

    God will never cease to be a God of miracles.

  • A Letter to my Brother

    A Letter to my Brother

    You think you’ve lived.

    You think you’ve loved.

    You think you’ve cried.

    You think you’ve felt.

    You haven’t felt anything yet.

    Prepare yourself.

    When that baby girl is born in June you’ll realize in one momentous second that you’ll never be the same.

    It’s the strangest thing. You’ve thought this whole time you’ve had a life and then in one moment you realize, “Woah.” Words can’t describe the moment a child is born. “Heart expanding” isn’t all encompassing enough. You’ve never had a heart until now. You realize all of a sudden every capacity to care and love that your being has possessed pales in comparison to this overwhelming feeling of care and protection you have for this helpless thing.

    It’s the craziest thing.

    Advice.

    Don’t blink. Dwell on how quickly time passes just enough to kick yourself into gear. So that when you’re tired, and, oh, you think you’ve been tired before now? You’ve never known tired. When you’re tired and grumpy and thinking you can’t wait until they just get out of diapers, or put on their own pants, or pour their own cereal, until you remember one day will be the last diaper, the last time helping them put on pants, the last time pouring their cereal. Remember every day that one day will be the last day for all these things, and it makes it easier.

    Don’t watch those “memories videos” iPhones make at any point after having a daughter. Unless you have 3 hours to spare melting into a puddle of sadness, joy, despair, and existential crisis thinking about how time goes by. And your girl grows.

    Don’t dwell on this too much or your heart will explode out of your chest.

    Don’t let the time go by without noticing.

    Don’t hate the sleepless nights too much, because, dare I even say, one day you’ll miss them.

    Many a father has experienced a new level of emotion when considering that their baby girl will one day grow up.

    So don’t miss a moment.

    Don’t listen to Beautiful Things once you have a daughter. Your heart can’t take it.

    Be careful listening to any songs.

    Be prepared for movies you used to enjoy taking on a whole new meaning. Hook is no longer a fun story about Peter Pan, it’s a story of fatherhood.

    You’ll have the HIGHEST highs and the lowest lows.

    In 5 years you’ll be a new person. You won’t even realize it’s happening. But one day you’ll realize, in an all-powerful moment – you are a new person. Probably a better person. You’ll learn so much you didn’t know you needed to learn.

    Your faith will grow. Your faith will be tested.

    Be a good father, and husband, at all costs. Nothing else matters as much as this.

    Be careful not to miss what she teaches you. Be like her.

    Don’t forget that children are angels sent from heaven and because of that, God will always watch over them, and you.

    Don’t forget to take her everywhere you can.

    Don’t forget that even sickness can be a blessing.

    ALWAYS embrace the chaos.

    I guess I could go on forever. But most of it you’ll have to learn on your own.

    Since you won’t be listening to Beautiful Things anymore I’ll give you my version:

    And I thank God every day
    For the girls He sent my way
    But I know the things He gives me
    He can take away

    And I hold them every night
    And that’s a feelin’ I never want to lose
    But there’s no man as terrified
    As the man who stands to lose

    Don’t be terrified. Just know time flies. Don’t waste it. Welcome to fatherhood.

  • Good Samaritan Mechanic

    Good Samaritan Mechanic

    I referenced our “van issues” in this post about our trip to Six Flags in April 2024. It is a story worth telling even all this time later. The six hour drive turned into 10 hours. This is how.

    We were planning to drive to California. The van was packed and ready to go. 

    Beth had started not feeling well the day before. As our time for leaving approached, she voiced more concern about how she was feeling. I reassured her that she would be okay once we got going.

    We didn’t get far before Beth said she couldn’t do it. She was too sick to be in the car for 6 hours to California. 

    Back home we went. We dropped off Beth and quickly unloaded her essentials. When Six Flags beckons, only the strong survive (just kidding Beth *mwah). 

    Back on the road we went. Just me and my two little girls.  

    We purchased the van we were driving from Beth’s parents. It drove well and had a brand-new engine but had some aesthetic issues. As we were driving Ivy began the drive with her normal excitement about our trip. It didn’t take long for her and Sage to both be asleep. In the quiet I started to hear things. A scraping sound was coming from the bottom of the van. 

    I pulled over and looked at the front of the van. It looked okay. Then I noticed a protective wheel well liner, the protective covering near tires, was flapping. That’s what was dragging. It seemed okay so I kept driving. I was paying close attention and noted that it started to make a very disconcerting noise if I got to 65 miles per hour or above. I couldn’t drive to California going less than 65 the whole way. 

    This led to me literally doing a back and forth exercise for the next 45 minutes. I drove ahead a little, I turned around, I called my mom, I turned back around for California, I called my dad, I pulled over and looked again, I turned back around for home, I turned back around for California.

    Like the wheel well liner, I was torn on what to do. Six Flags was waiting! Only the strong survived! Was I going to let this keep us from our already planned trip? 

    We had our SUV at home so I could have gone back, unloaded the whole car, girls, everything, then got back on the road. We were only about 45 minutes on our way. There was another problem. My brother was meeting us and the hotel was in our name. I wondered if he’d be able to stay in the room. I was in a difficult spot, and I didn’t know what to do. 

    I was praying this whole time, looking for an answer.

    Finally I decided I couldn’t risk driving the van with my girls in the back all the way to California. I turned around for the final time to go home.  

    That’s when Beth texted me a new thought – what if I looked for a place that could just fix up that part so we could make the drive? I figured it was worth a shot. I looked up a repair shop nearby and drove to it. The place I ended up at didn’t look right but I was resigned to trying one place and then giving up. At this point it was still early enough that we could get to California in a reasonable time if we hurried.  

    I wasn’t sure where I’d ended up, but it wasn’t a normal auto-repair shop. I parked the girls in front and ran into the building. Once inside, I knew I wasn’t in the right place. It was a corporate office with a front desk. Why did my navigation bring me here? 

    I decided I was already this far so I might as well ask. I started to explain my situation to the girl at the front desk who looked panicked. Panicked girl went and got another lady.  

    The other lady showed up. This lady exuded a lot more confidence than panicked lady. I think it was panicked lady’s first week. 

    I started explaining, “This is a long shot, it doesn’t look like I’m in the right kind of place, but I’m trying to go on a trip to California, my girls are in the car, and we’re having an issue with the car. I was wondering if anyone could take a quick look and see if there might be an easy fix just so we can make the drive.” 

    To my surprise, the lady asked if she could come look at it. She walked out to the van with me and got down on the ground. She quickly assessed what the issue was. She was talking out loud and wondering if she could fix it with tape, or if she could screw it in, or if it could be ripped off altogether. She stood up. “Follow me.” 

    Okay… I jumped in the car and followed her slowly as she walked around the side of this corporate building. In the back of the building was a huge auto repair shop. This was the place cars went when they were totaled. It was a massive corporate building with a giant repair shop attached.

    I saw the lady walk up to a mechanic in his bay, in the middle of a dozen other mechanics in their bays. Why did she choose this man? He was in the middle of working on a car. After a quick conference with him, she walked over to me and told me he was going to look at the car and see what he could do. He pulled the car he was in the middle of working on out and guided me into the spot.  

    I pulled in, somewhat bewildered by the kindness being shown. He immediately got down and started evaluating the problem. He quickly determined what was needed.  

    The girls continued to sit in their car seats while I stood outside the car. I opened their doors so they could see me.  

    “What are we doing, Daddy?” Ivy asked. I told her we were seeing if this nice guy could help us get to California. 

    I started talking to the guy and learned he had 6 children of his own under the age of 16.  

    He stood up. He told me what I needed to get it fixed and be able to make our trip to California. I was confused. I asked if he knew of a repair shop that could help.  

    “Oh, I’ll do it. Just go buy the part and bring it back here and I’ll get it fixed up for you.” 

    I was still kind of taken aback by the help I was receiving. 

    I hastily reserved the part at a nearby shop and got in the car to go pick it up. When I got back to the repair shop with the required part, my new angel mechanic friend put the part on. While he was at it, he took care of two other items that needed addressing. All told he spent over an hour fixing things on the van.

    At one point during the fix, what seemed to be the mechanic’s supervisor came by to see how some other work was coming along. I got worried, was I going to get this selfless good Samaritan in trouble? My mechanic (whose name, if you haven’t noticed, I embarrassingly can’t remember) explained how he was working on something and gave the timeline for that other car to get done. The supervisor was completely understanding and told him to take his time. This place seemed to have a phenomenal work environment.  

    When he finished his work, I still had the nerves of considering the drive to California in a car I wasn’t sure I could trust. I asked him if everything was good and if he would feel comfortable driving his family in it now.

    He looked me dead in the eyes and said, “I wouldn’t send you away from here if I wasn’t confident those two girls would be safe.” 

    I was touched. As I re-read my writing of this story, and just remember that moment, of this man I didn’t know pausing his whole day to help me and then assuring me that my two daughters’ safety was the most important thing in the world to him, I’m just in awe of the kindness shown. 

    When Beth suggested seeing if the car could be fixed real quick, I said a prayer. I asked my Heavenly Father for help. I asked Him, if it was possible for us to still make our trip to California, to help me find a place that could fix the car. 

    After I picked up the part I needed and was driving back to the location with my good Samaritan, I was trying to search for the place. I knew its location, I was able to retrace my steps back to it, but I was curious how I ended up there in the first place. I couldn’t remember what I’d searched to find it. 

    “Car repair shop.” 

    “Mechanic nearby.” 

    “Car maintenance.” 

    “Auto shop by me.” 

    “Auto repair garage.” 

    “Car parts.” 

    On and on I tried. I couldn’t remember what I searched for, but surely it was one of those options. Nothing brought me back to that corporate garage. How did I get there in the first place? I still don’t know. 

    I’ve since (these two years later) spent considerable time searching Google Maps and various keywords to try to find this place. I don’t have a phenomenal sense of direction and honestly have very little clue of the rough area I was in. I’ve scoured Google Maps for mechanic, demolition, and salvage shops in the area I thought I was in. It’s like the place disappeared, an angelic phantom of my imagination that did real, concrete work on our van. The only proof I have that the place existed are the still present fixes on our van.

    I asked the mechanic if I could pay him. I knew what his answer would be. 

    “Knowing those girls are going to have a great trip with their dad, that’s reward enough.” 

    I told him and the woman that I prayed for help and believe I was led there. In an increasingly non-spiritual world, it was nice when they agreed and were happy to be the answers to my prayer. 

    What were the odds of arriving at that place, and meeting a woman willing to go outside and get on the ground to look at the fender of a van, and then be led to a man, and that man be willing to drop what he was doing in his busy day to fix that van – all for no payment, reward, or recognition in return? They were a real answer to prayer, real angels. 

    I’m grateful for kindness and good people. I did nothing to deserve this kindness. It is people like those individuals that make this world a better place. They exemplify why we’re here and I thank them for their example to me of selfless service.  

    Now I can’t believe it’s been almost two years since this experience. I want to send cookies, or this thank you, or anything. But I can’t find them. While I desperately want to thank those two people, maybe this just makes it more of a miracle. I ended up there miraculously as an answer to prayer, and it’s as if the place disappeared after.

    Those two people will never see this but thank you. That became a memorable trip for me and my girls. More importantly, I was reminded that there are still exceptionally good, amazing people out there. 

  • Ministering of Angels

    Ministering of Angels

    I read something from Hugh Nibley recently that stood out to me. It was very simple, but it jumped out at me. I think there is a profound truth about our existence in the vast universe behind this simple realization.

    What I was reading was a lecture from Nibley’s Book of Mormon class in the 1990s.

    Hugh Nibley asked a question:

    What is it that angels do when they minister to an individual?

    His answer – “It’s quite simple. They talk to them.”

    When Christ was on the mount of transfiguration with Peter and John and He was ministered to by angels, what did they do with Christ at that time? They spoke to Him.

    When Nephi was taken up in vision atop a mountain and spent time with an angel, what did the angel do? Talk to him.

    When Daniel was in the Lions’ Den, the angel shut up the mouths of the lions, but what else did he likely do? Do you imagine the angel and Daniel just sat there looking at each other? I think not. I think it likely the angel was talking with Daniel while they were in the den together.

    Same goes with Shadrach, Meshach , and Abednego who were thrown in the fiery furnace. Do you imagine the angel was standing and staring at them? I don’t.

    What is the significance of this?

    What is the ministering of angels? The ministering of angels is quite often angels simply conversing with mortals.

    What is the point?

    Angels come from another realm to visit mortals, and what do they do? Talk.

    Yet we’re surrounded by mortals all day every day. How often do we really talk?

    The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has a ministering program. I think this program gets overcomplicated. All the program really asks is for us to talk to each other. Angels come from other dimensions to do it. We can pull out a phone and have someone on the other end of a line in seconds. We can be angels every day. All it takes is talking to people.

    I think this a profound thing to consider. All it takes for you to be someone’s ministering angel is to reach out and talk to them. This can be the difference in someone’s life.

  • Goals

    Goals

    I never used to set goals. I’m not exactly sure why. Could have been partly due to the thinking: if you don’t set goals you don’t fail.

    Throughout life, despite not actively setting goals, I think I’ve always had goals, even if those goals are subconscious. I think we all have goals.

    It’s interesting to look back on my life and see how my goals have changed.

    High school – graduate

    College – have as much fun as possible and meet as many people as possible

    After college – have a job to provide for myself

    Over time my goals changed in drastic ways. I went from wanting to have fun to thinking about a family. At some point, I went from only thinking about myself to thinking about others. 

    I’ve never been one to put a whole bunch of stock in goal setting. I always heard the logic: “You can’t accomplish it until you write it down.” I can see how that makes sense, but I just never subscribed to it. That includes New Year’s Resolutions. What’s the point of a whole population of people setting goals due to an arbitrary date? A goal they will stop putting any effort toward after week 3. 

    My Dropbox account has a whole lot of random and miscellaneous items in it. Random word documents, thoughts, quotes, letters, theories, links, notes, etc. When I had been back at church a couple years, I stumbled across something interesting, something I had almost no recollection of writing. I’ll post some of it here. It was a Word document called “2016 Goals.”

    Here is what I wrote in 2016. Through context clues, I can determine it was written either very early in 2016 or even *gasp as New Year’s Resolutions.

    Life

    • Stop swearing
      • Every time I swear out loud, take note of it. At the end of the year, donate $1 for every swear word I said through 2016.
    • Drink less
      • Try to limit drinking to twice per month.
    • Go back to church
      • In January go at least once.
      • February-December go to church at least 2 times per month. If I go less than 2 times in any given month, make up for it in a future month.
    • Go out of my way to do one nice thing for someone else at least once per week.
    • Buy a property.

    High aspirations, right? Try to limit drinking to twice per month, wow… aim for the stars.

    Other than the “Life” category I also had poker, work, and exercise. For the purpose of this post, I’ll focus on the above – Life.

    First of all, I immediately didn’t keep pretty much any of these goals. I never donated $1 for every swear word, though I do remember trying to keep track of my swearing. Drink less – out the window almost instantly. I don’t think I went to church at all January or February, so that’s pretty funny. 

    But here’s the extraordinary part. The year 2016 was the year I accomplished EVERY SINGLE ONE of those goals, with only buying a property bleeding into 2017.

    I stopped swearing in 2016, completely.

    I stopped drinking in 2016, completely.

    I started thinking about others. I don’t know if I did a nice thing for someone every week, but I know I tried.

    I bought my condo in 2017.

    In my opinion, without a doubt, the most important one and the one that enabled me to accomplish all the other goals I set – March 2016 was the month I started going back to church. I laugh at the fact I didn’t go in January or February, but is there any chance I would have gone in March if not for writing down these goals? Probably not.

    Remember, I don’t even remember writing these down. I know that seems strange, but I don’t. That’s how little thought I put into it. Within 2 months I’d completely forgotten about these goals. But, I think, something inside of me didn’t forget about these goals. Call it my subconscious, I’ll call it my soul, somehow, some way, writing these down gave me the power and strength to do things I thought impossible. Note again the goals, swear LESS, drink LESS. I went back to church and that became I don’t want to swear, I don’t want to drink.

    I’d be remiss if I gave all credit to myself for writing these goals down and accomplishing them. These goals that were written down and forgotten, my soul remembered them. I also think they were written and acknowledged somewhere much more important. I believe someone took note of my goals and sent help. That’s the only logical conclusion after all these forgotten goals somehow fell into place in the year 2016.

    After all this, I still don’t set concrete goals. Shame on me after the evidence I’ve seen. When I stumbled upon that “2016 Goals” Word document, I became a believer. Writing down goals is powerful. God sees our goals. Maybe our subconscious kicks in. Maybe good goals cause your spirit to cry out with joy that you’ve set some standards for yourself to try to accomplish.

    What I do know, is that goals are powerful. Writing them down is powerful. I should really try to be better at setting and WRITING DOWN concrete, solid goals. I’ve seen extraordinary things come from that. I think we all can accomplish extraordinary things when we set ourselves on a path.

    I have to conclude by thanking them. God. How could that all have happened without His support? My goals were so lame, and yet He made them something. Jesus Christ. How could I accomplish anything without Him forgiving me for all my wasted time, bad actions, and mistakes? I could only move forward by Him letting me look past my past. The Holy Ghost. There were countless difficult situations, countless times I ALMOST gave in and started drinking again, countless times, countless times. I know he was always there begging me to listen to him. Finally, the countless angels God undoubtedly sent, seen and unseen, to lift me up, help me along, protect, and encourage me. I owe it all to them. I am grateful.