The Worth of One Soul

My husband is sick. In our own little family this is enough to set everyone into a tizzy. He rarely gets sick, and definitely not with fever chills and body aches. He even opted to stay home from church today - also a rare occurrence.

In and of itself this may not seem like a big deal, but my husband is not just your ordinary church-goer (if there is such a thing as an ordinary church-goer). You see, he is a bishop over a ward in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (also known as the Mormon Church). He is the figurative father of a local congregation, or ward. He is their spiritual leader. And today he was greatly missed.

As news of his nasty sickness spread throughout the meeting person after person came up to ask me about him. Was he okay? How was he feeling? Was there anything they could do? Wish after wish for a speedy recovery was pressed upon me to pass along to him. Much love was expressed, and promises of prayers being offered in his behalf. Even as my heart grew warm with the utter love and concern shown for him, I knew there was no way even I - a self-proclaimed artist with words - would be able to let him know just how much he was missed, and how much the people he has served over the last four years loved him.

One person. Just one person has had an amazing effect on a group of people. I began to think throughout the day about how precious a single individual can be to another, especially as that was what our lesson in young women's was on today. What are we doing to personally enrich the lives of those around us, to make that relationship between ourselves and those with whom we come in contact a little more meaningful.

My husband is extremely service oriented. If someone is in need he is the first one to jump up and say, "I will help." At times I worry he doesn't know how to say no, but over the years I have recognized in him a need to never look back and say, "I should have..." I honestly believe that is why he's so sick today - his body simply couldn't keep up with his willing heart.

When we serve those around us there becomes a softening in the relationship, for we are putting our needs away for a time to focus instead of another soul in need. It is one of the ultimate ways for us to truly come to know Christ and how He lived His life, for there is no better example of loving service than that of our Savior.

My husband has learned to be a fantastic listener. He knows when to offer advice and when someone simply needs to talk. He has learned to approach people he doesn't know and welcome them with open arms. He has been a shoulder to cry on, an arm upon which others lean, and a trusted voice of reason. His hands have joined others in giving blessings to those who are sick or otherwise afflicted, those who mourn, and those who simply need words of guidance and comfort from their Heavenly Father. He is loved by those he has served in ways he will never comprehend.

Of course, were a person to say any of this to his face, he would deny it all, unable to see what good he has done. As we all tend to do with ourselves, he constantly berates himself for never doing enough, for never being enough, and for looking more on negatives than positives. And at times this idea makes him try to be every thing to every body, which means he burns out - like today. For myself, though I hate to see him sick, I am grateful it forces him to stop and focus on himself and his need to rest. This same sentiment was echoed many times over today by different members of his congregation.

I know the difference this wonderful man has made in the lives of others, even if he doesn't always see it himself. I even know there are those out there who love me more than words can say. I also know it is because of the love we try to give in various ways that we receive this love back. We are not perfect, not by any means, but we keep trying.

I ask for you to take some time out of incredibly busy schedules, find just one person, and begin to express your love for them in little ways. Pray for them. Pray for ways of expressing love to be shown to you. Write a friend a little note saying what you admire about him/her. Do the dishes for your mom. Take the trash out for your dad. Make your husband's favorite dinner. Offer to take your wife out so she doesn't have to cook. Spend some quality time reading a book with your child. The possibilities are endless.

I love my husband. I am grateful he is taking time out to sleep today, to rest and recover. I also hope he'll get better fast, for I know what a crazy few weeks he has with work and church. I am incredibly proud of the man he is, for his willingness to serve both our family and our ward family. He constantly reminds me of what I need to do to be a better person, even if I do it whining a lot of the way. I only hope one day he will be able to know how much the love he has given is returned.

Adoption: The Gift They Cannot Give Each Other

I have two wonderful friends who are so very dear to my heart. For many years now they've tried and tried to have a baby, but God has asked them to try a different path to seek their goal. Almost a year ago they began the road to adoption.

Adoption is a wonderful thing, even if it does come out of difficult circumstances. There are many in my life who have had the opportunity to adopt, and many more who are hoping to adopt one day. But this particular couple are on my mind in such a fashion I cannot think there is a baby about to be born who is meant to be a part of this glorious family.

I don't know that the answer to their prayers will come through this blog, but if I had the chance to further their opportunity to have a baby and did nothing about it...well, I couldn't very well live in peace.

I am putting up a link to their adoption site, and pray someone out there who knows of a baby in need of a family will take a good, hard look. For those who don't, I beg you will include them in your prayers. There is nothing these two want more than a little one to raise, and the love they can provide him or her is immeasurable.

Before the link, I want to share the lyrics to two songs written by a Christian musician by the name of Michael McLean. He has been one of my favorites for years. One day he received a phone call from a young woman who asked him to write a song for her and the baby she had chosen to let someone else raise. The first song is his inspiration. Later he penned another song, this one done through the voice of an adoptive mother who was so grateful to have received a gift she and her husband could not give each other. Please, stop and read these lyrics, and think about what you can help give to these friends of mine.

From God's Arms, To My Arms, To Yours

With so many wrong decisions in my past, I'm not quite sure
If I can ever hope to trust my judgement anymore.
But lately I've been thinking, 'cause it's all I've had to do.
And in my heart I feel that I should give this child to you.

And maybe you can tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.

If you choose to tell him, and if he wants to know,
How the one who gave him life could bear to let him go;
Just tell him there were sleepless nights; I prayed and paced the floors
And knew the only peace I'd find is if this child was yours.

And maybe you can tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.

Now I know that you don't have to do this,
But could you kiss him once for me
The first time that he ties his shoes, or falls and skins his knee?
And could you hold him twice as long when he makes his mistakes,
And tell him that he's not alone, sometimes that's all it takes.
I know how much he'll ache.

This may not be the answer for another girl like me;
But I'm not on a soapbox saying how we all should be.
I'm just trusting in my feelings and I'm trusting God above,
And I'm trusting you can give this baby
Both his mothers' love.

And maybe you can tell your baby
When you love him so that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.


The Gift We Could Not Give Each Other

When she was a little girl she held her dolls like children
Dreaming of the day when she'd have babies of her own.
Now those dolls lie on a shelf as lifeless as the dreams she dreamed.
It's become the deepest ache her heart has ever known.

There's a man who's trying his best to comfort her with roses,
Telling her he'll find a way to make their dreams come true.
He's been saying this for years, but now his tears reveal the truth.
In his heart he fears there's nothing else that they can do.

Then a gift is given, a phone call straight from heaven.
There's a child that's nearly due that a young girl's giving you.
She gave more than just one life
When she makes of this man and wife a father and a mother.
She gives the gift they could not give each other.

More than we could ever know this couple thanks the heavens.
Every time they hold their child, they feel they hold the world.
Words will never be enough to share the way the family feels.
From deep inside their hearts they want to tell that girl:

Not a day is ever through till we've thanked the Lord for you.
Your sweetness lingers near in our hearts and thoughts and prayers.
You gave more than just one life when you made of this man and wife,
A father and a mother.
When you gave the gift we could not give each other.
You have changed our lives forever.

Only you and God above could give this gift of love
We could not give each other.


Please, please, help God give this gift to Brian and Erin.

A Fairly Scrumptious Baker's Dozen

Awww, how cute are they!!! This week my darling hubby and I celebrate our 13th anniversary. That's right, this remarkable man has stuck by my side for 13 flavor-filled years. Seeing as how this is my blog...I reserve the right to take a few minutes to be utterly cheesy, sappy, mushy, slushy, syrupy, mawkish and maudlin. In other words, I'm going to tell you 13 reasons why I absolutely adore this man of mine.


1. He's awfully nice. I mean really, really nice. Where others might be snappish or rude, he always turns the other cheek and gives people second, third, fourth and fifth chances.

2. He's tolerant. He has to be in his job, his calling in this church, as well as in having such a crazy wife and kids. Once again, where others might not be willing to put up with the utter insanity of life, he is. Continually.

3. He's compassionate. My husband has been compassionate his entire life, but oh my how I have seen him grow stronger in this trait as he has been a bishop. His ability to share himself with those in need has been extraordinary, not to mention felt by those whose lives he has touched.

4. He is an amazing father. Even though he's worked two jobs most of our married life and has had callings that take him out of the home even more, there is no doubt in the minds of our children their daddy loves them. He is willing to change diapers, help with homework, take them on bike rides, read together, and have tickle fights.

5. He helps around the house. Are all you ladies drooling right now? More than once he's cleaned the house when I wasn't up to it. He's done laundry. Now that he's home most evenings he'll willingly wash dishes. Not only this but he gets the kids involved where I might do it myself because it would just be easier. He'll cook when I'm not feeling well, and will even involve our oldest in the process.

6. He's a worker. It's inherited, you know. Those who are familiar with the Walker family know if a job needs to get done, they will do it and do it to the best of their abilities, something that was pounded into the minds of every Walker child since their youth.

7. He comes with an amazing family. I never knew what an extended family could be until I was warmly welcomed into this one. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews...I have learned so much from them all.

8. He is a humble leader. The best leaders are those who don't feel worthy of the position, who don't ask to lead, and who would willingly pass the job along to someone else. Because of this they work hardest to do their best in the hopes of not letting their boss's and those they serve down. My husband is one of these leaders.

9. He is dedicated and loyal. Even though he may be physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally exhausted, if something needs to be done he will push himself to do it. If there is a need he will fill it. I have watched him push his body beyond excruciating limits to get the job done.

10. He is ever aware of my needs. There are days when I'm just "done," and he knows it. On those days he'll take the kids away to grandpa's house, or kicks me out of the house, just so I can get in my "alone time." He also knows I need my creative outlets, and will move heaven and earth to make sure I have some way of following those pursuits.

11. He has dreamy eyes. Even after thirteen years I think his eyes are the most gorgeous blue, framed by fantastic lashes. Of course, being his wife, I'm the only one allowed to gaze into those eyes, so don't even think about it ladies.

12. He makes me a better person. He claims it's the other way around, but I just let him think that. the truth is he has helped me to stretch beyond my self-set boundaries, to increase in faith, and to spread my wings. He is my best friend and I am better for having him in my life.

13. And last, but certainly not least, after all these years my hubby still loves this off-the-wall, moderately hormonal, overly single-minded, sadly sentimental, excruciatingly chunky, has-probably-cost-him-a-million-dollars bundle of me. I'd say that earns him some kind of award!!!

Sunday Inspirations June 15, 2008 Father's Day

First and foremost I want to wish all those who are dedicated, righteous fathers, and any other man who has ever taken a child under his wing, a very Happy Father's Day.

I had a most extraordinary experience of speaking in Church today (having members of the congregation speak is a fairly common occurrence to those who are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). The topic was, of course, fathers. I wanted to share this talk with all of you, especially as I know my Heavenly Father guided my words.

One of my earliest memories of my father is of a night when I was
desperately sick. I don’t even recall how old I was. I simply remember the night
my door was opened, the bright light of the kitchen across the hall blinding me.
I was frightened for a moment, unsure of who the tall shadows were who boldly
walked into my room, each one looming at either side of my bed. It wasn’t until
the soft whisper of my father’s voice was heard that I became calm. I felt his
considerable hands press gently upon my fevered brow as he and a trusted friend
gave me a blessing.

Those hands have been a symbol of love, of gentleness, and of power from that day. I recall those hands gently lifting me up out of my bed on Sunday mornings, cradling me to his chest as he would rock me awake. Just like many other fathers, he worked an awful lot, and our time together was rare and precious. I loved to go on odd jobs with him, to watch those hands fixing a swamp cooler or a heater. Those hands showed me what it meant to serve my fellow men.

My father-in-law is another special man who knows what it means to use his hands in righteous works. Like my own father, most days you can find him in the home of a friend, family, or ward member who is in need of help. I can’t begin to tell you what it’s meant to watch as those hands, perhaps not so steady as the years have gone by, help to give healing to my sick children. Those hands also stand as a testament to what a good and righteous father can do for those he loves.

I recall the moment my husband took our daughter, so scrawny and gray and weird looking as she first came into this world, and with wonder in his eyes held her for the
first time. It was a miraculous moment for him, and for me as well. I remember the day our first son was born. With agony he laid his hands on his son’s head, followed by my father’s and my older brother’s, and together in a crowded hospital room, amid the sniffling and crying of doctors and nurses, they gave this precious boy a name and a blessing. My husband held this child only once that day.

Since that time two more rambunctious boys and a vivacious little girl have come to grace our home. I love to watch as each child embraces their father as he comes home from work, or takes his hand with their own, anxious to keep hold of him. I count myself as one of the most fortunate of women to have this remarkable man as the father of our children. Like both of our fathers, he is rarely able to be home as his life is spent in working to help those in need, either through his jobs or through his callings. I know my children are watching as those hands bless not only their lives, but others as well.

I believe it is in these precious moments we can witness a small portion of what it might be like to be a child of God. It is not the material gifts we present to our children, the movies we take them to, or how many times we all go to get a Slurpee. It is in the moments when the bond between children and their fathers are brought into focus.

There is a time in the life of Jesus Christ where my appreciation and love for our
Heavenly Father intensifies each time I think about it.

This beloved Son had never once sinned. Never. He could not understand what it meant to sin. Neither could he comprehend until the moment He walked into the Garden of Gethsemane what one little sin can do to a person. All at once the
realization of what He was being asked to do begins to settle upon His mind, and
He cried out, “Oh my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.”

Perhaps the Father’s perfect Son is now frightened by what He is being asked. We do not know. It is only in empathizing with our elder brother, in trying to imagine just a little of what agony the weight of sin had already placed upon Him in those short moments, that we can even begin to appreciate His next words: “Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

Up in a world of spirits stood a Father who must have been in agony himself. Have any of you thought even for a moment what watching this scene must have been like for Him? As He watched His perfect Son writhe in anguish, did He wish to call out, to bend to His Son’s wishes, to stop the pain? Was His hand stretched out, shaking, wishing He could do just that?

The Father would not stop what was happening, but He could give His Son some form of comfort. He sent an angel, perhaps one of Christ’s greatest friends, down to give Him what little support could be offered. Still, it wasn’t enough.

The time came when Christ would be asked to endure more than even He thought possible. Not only was the angel’s presence withdrawn, but the Father pulled His own Spirit and influence away as well. I cannot begin to imagine the shock this must have been to a Son who had never, in His entire life, gone without the influence of His Father. These two individuals had never known a moment like this before. How do you imagine the Father felt at that moment, knowing the intense distress He was causing His Son?

Yet what a joy it must have been for both when the Holy Spirit and influence of the Father was restored. Never does one appreciate the blessings in one’s life until those blessings have been taken away.

Surely this should have been enough. Hadn’t Christ just endured all that would be required? Could not the Father now take His Son up to Him, satisfied that all had been accomplished?

We all know it was not enough. Still the Father watched on as His Son was brutally beaten, mocked by those who simply could not comprehend, nailed to a cross, and hung. Surely the Father desired to send legions of angels to stop the cruelty, to at last allow His perfect Son to be at peace. Instead, the Father knew the mission was not complete. Once again He needed to take His influence away from His Son. Is it any wonder, after all that He had endured, Jesus the Christ yelled out in agony, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46.)

How the Father’s heart must have torn at those words. They were not a condemnation, but a desperate cry from a Son to His Father.

There is a moment I often ponder upon, as perhaps only a parent can. Christ has given up the ghost, and returned to the spirit world, where He is embraced by friends and family who have gone before. His body is no longer in pain. What do you think our Heavenly Father was thinking at that point? Was He grateful for the little time it took for the resurrection and ascension to calm His trembling hands, to wipe His tears, before finally being able to take His Son up into His arms and hold on tight? Was His voice choked as He patted His Son on the back and whispered, “Well done, my good and faithful servant”?

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland has said, “[The Father] endured what He saw because it was the only way that a saving, vicarious payment could be made for the sins of all His other children, from Adam and Eve to the end of the world. I am eternally grateful for a perfect Father and His perfect Son, neither of whom shrank from the bitter cup nor forsook the rest of us who are imperfect, who fall short and stumble, who too often miss the mark.”

As we celebrate this Father’s Day, take some time to recognize what it is our Father sacrificed that day, but don’t stop there. If you have never realized it before, it is time to recognize it now. He allowed all of this to happen because He loves each and every one of us so very much. We are not perfect. We all have sinned. We will never be asked to go through what Christ went through. Yet the Father love us so much that He sacrificed His only perfect child so that we can all come back to live with Him someday.

What a remarkable Father.