Sunday, March 30, 2014

Baylee


I first saw Baylee through a dirty window at the villa in Qatar where our church services were held. Her yellow eyes connected with mine and I instantly knew we had a future together. When I tried to coax her toward me, she rubbed her thin white body against my leg, but was gone before I could return the affection. I thought maybe I had imagined the connection with this stray kitty, but when my friend told me that she and her family had rescued this orphan cat, and that they couldn't keep her because of her daughter's allergies, I knew I had to officially meet her.

She was all kindness and cuddles when we were introduced. Her fur felt like whispered feathers as I stroked her in my lap, and she looked at me with hesitant expectation. She soon joined our family and was "welcomed" by our menagerie of pets. We named her Baylee Boo because she was as white as a ghost and hid like one too. I spent a lot of time trying to ease her into her new life with us, but just as she was getting somewhat relaxed and settled in, off she went to the vet to get spayed. Her stay at the vet forced a case of kennel cough on her and forced me to be nursemaid. I quickly learned that our pure white angel cat was not as sweet as I had thought. She bit through my thumbnail when I tried to get her to swallow her much needed medicine. Even after another trip to the vet where I was tutored by an "expert" on how to dose this cat, it was clear that no one, not the vet, not I the self-proclaimed "Cat Whisperer", was going to tame this sad kitty.

I tried to tell myself that Baylee was damaged from a tortured past of terrible owners, breeders, or children. I tried to LOVE her into being a secure, happy pet, but nothing worked, and I mean nothing. Demons from the past seemed to haunt her and keep her from completely trusting me. I still remember the day that I realized I had failed. After working with Baylee for over a year, and constantly reassuring her that she was safe, loved, and at home, while trying to brush her, she clawed and bit me so desperately I knew that we were going to have to call a truce. She wasn't going to be the lap cat I wanted her to be. Her appearance signaled everyone who saw her that she was angelic and warm. Even her initial meeting of strangers was all sweet and friendly, but then in a schizophrenic snap, she would turn into a devil.



So I went to my corner and she went to hers. She eventually accepted a little love and cuddles from Brett early in the mornings when he would get ready for work, but even on those occasions, she would have a quick change of personality, ending the love fest as quickly as it started. Even though Baylee adjusted to life with us, her wanderlust never went away. Whenever the front door opened, she was there in a flash, ready to run for freedom. No matter how many times she left our comfortably air-conditioned villa and suffered from hunger, thirst, and heat, she would gain her strength back only to try to run again.









When we came home from Qatar in 2012, Baylee made the long trip with us and became an official American cat. She endured the long 28 hour flight and seemed to adapt well to yet another new environment. But she couldn't stay away from the door! The world outside seemed even more inviting to her with all the green grass, plentiful trees, and outdoor sounds. After being home for about a month, Baylee slipped out the front door when company came and we couldn't find her anywhere. We called for her, walking the neighborhood with sad footsteps. We put up signs with her beautiful picture and hoped someone would call. We visited the animal shelter to make sure she wasn't stuck in the corner of some smelly cage, scared to death. She wasn't there, but we left our information with those in charge and it paid off. It was about three weeks later that a neighbor called us and said that she had a white cat who was hanging out in her window well. It was Baylee. She was all skin and bones when we got her home, but she had survived three long weeks on her own AND in the middle of fireworks July. She didn't go near the door for at least a month after that little "vacation", but the door still held her captive. Last night she slipped out undetected yet again, for the last time.

Brett found Baylee this morning on our front parking strip, stiff and cold, the victim of an apparent collision with an unforgiving car. It broke my heart to watch as Brett picked her up and carried her home once more. Even though she and I had kept a wide berth over the last few years, she was family and I knew her heart. Fighting and running had saved her life time and time again, but now she was finally enjoying peace that she had never known before; the peace only heaven can bring. We will miss the playful, beautiful Baylee who reluctantly became part of our family and taught us how to love no matter what. Enjoy those extra birdies and bugs up there, Bay Bay. We will always love you.

After her July "vacation" she was thin and dirty but surprisingly grateful to be home. Her gratitude was even vocal as she ate her food.








Abbey wrote this poem today:

BAYLEE
The white cat was her name.
She never skipped a beat
or let a hand be unplayed with.

She started with a yawn,
and ended with a silent bow
that only other creatures can understand.

Living a life of running,
May her paws be rested and well,
That she will chase and jump
At those birds that
Her sisters had scampered after.

Oh white cat,
May you swat and play with the big man's hand
And brush against angels' feet,
For you can be kind to all.

When the wind rises,
And the snowflakes fall,
May you be in our spirits,
And prance through the snow.
And you my dear white cat,
Will conquer all.




Thursday, March 13, 2014

A Little Poetry Today




Alternate Plumage

The flit of a bird caught my eye this morning
As I soaked in the late winter sunshine
at my kitchen window.

The tiniest of sparrows sat perched on the wood rail of my deck,
And turned his head this way and that - in an instinctual effort
To protect,
To defend
His quick heartbeat and delicately feathered existence.

Balancing there he revealed a slice of orange trailing down his back -
A secret something for my human eyes of appreciation,
But more likely for the lady birds who might come to call.

Had it been a dangerous winter for him and his aviarial crowd?
Was it time to escort springtime out into the crisp March embrace?
Were the worms waking for ravenous beaks to gather?

Or was the ground still frozen with hard hearted indifference,
Forcing my little bird to beg for the crumbs of a stranger?

The questions crowded my head for this little one in my gaze.
Ah, questions.
Maybe he didn't have any.
Of course he didn't!
His hidden tangerine tartan
Gave him all the answers he needed.
His destiny was to trust, and
Allow himself to be encircled
In the arms of safety,
Ready for the promise of warmer days and
Delicious delicacies in the bug section of his
Outdoor grocery store.





Saturday, March 8, 2014

Women and the Priesthood



If you are on social media these days you have probably seen a lot of links to blog posts, newspaper articles, and various statements about LDS women and the Priesthood. Women have been using the priesthood inside and outside of the temple for years and years. I feel like I use the Priesthood on a daily basis. It is so sad to me that women feel "less than" and unfulfilled if they are not the ones at the pulpit conducting Sacrament Meeting or laying hands on the head of their child to give a blessing. Because I am an endowed member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I am accessing Priesthood power when I gather my family to pray, to search the scriptures, or to have Family Night. I am activating Priesthood power when I use the knowledge and blessings I received in the temple to manage and direct my career. I am blessed with priesthood power when I make decisions with the help of the Holy Ghost and the strength of my temple covenants. I have been blessed with Priesthood power when I have prayed at the bedside of my child when she was suffering from a terrible illness. I have been able to call down heaven's power with my relationships, profession, and family crises. Our church has been organized by our Heavenly Father and He has inspired both men and women to be a part of its infancy. Now He inspires them in the church's modern day.


I have been directed and guided in every church calling I have ever had because I recognized and utilized the gift of the Holy Ghost and my endowment in the temple. No, I didn't lay my hands on the heads of my primary class members and administer blessings on them or anoint my visiting teaching sisters with consecrated oil because there is a cultural, ecclesiastical, and even a divine decision in our religious organization that assigns men this more public responsibility. I realize that this is the part that many women are unhappy with, but truly, I have learned in my 50 years that whenever I have sought out a responsibility or calling because it will give me more public acknowledgement, I know those have been the times when my motivations have been skewed and selfish. I'm so sorry that some women in our church today don't realize the priesthood power that they already have and use on a daily basis. The covenants we make in the temple and the astounding blessings that are pronounced on our heads are powerful and life changing if we can but see them for what they truly are: eternal blessings from a loving Heavenly Father who wants us to see our potential so we can fulfill that potential. I know that there are women who feel like they are being held down from being fulfilled because they are not allowed to use Priesthood power in a public forum, but my experience has taught me that this is Satan's whispered lies that confuse and degrade the strength of women on this earth. Satan would have us think that everything must be the same for men and women so that we can be truly fulfilled, but my time on this earth has taught me that "equal" is a term that is thrown around in this world to suggest scarcity and lack. I know that the Lord wants each of His children to have the earthly experience that she needs to learn and grow in order to return to our heavenly home and heavenly parents.

Sadly, there are very imperfect men who sometimes use the Priesthood as an opportunity to exercise authority and power over others because they are in a public position. I have experienced this first hand. This is always a counterfeit of what the priesthood's purpose is. Its true purpose is to bind families together and bless the lives of others, and if that is being sacrificed for the more selfish purpose of bringing acclaim to an individual, then it is wrong. That is the very definition of what the Lord has called a "secret combination" or an "abomination". We usually think of a secret combination as a secret organization of wicked men, but looking closer at the purpose of the secret organization we can identify the root purpose as building up a handful of men to have all the power, all the acclaim, all the riches they can gather. Men who use the Priesthood power they have been given to set themselves up above others might be guilty of being an abomination in the sight of the Lord. An abomination is that which the Lord hates. He is not pleased with those of us who use the church, and especially His priesthood, for our own personal gain. Elder Neal A. Maxwell said that our baptism is only the beginning of humility. If that is true then the temple endowment would be yet a continuation of our opportunities to be more humble and more selfless.

After reading this blog post, I felt like I needed to articulate some of my feelings about this important issue in the Mormon church. Yes, there are those who, because of their confusion and lack of gospel education, make embarrassing comparisons and statements about women and the Priesthood, but this should not be an invitation to mock the Lord's anointed or condemn leaders. It should be an invitation to teach and testify.

I hope that I haven't offended anyone by expressing my thoughts. I sorrow with anyone who feels left out, disenfranchised, or marginalized. If we had perfect people in the church's leadership roles we could probably expunge any actions that create this dissonance, but we don't. We have very flawed individuals who are usually doing what they think is best, and sometimes they get it right. At other times tender feelings are hurt and hearts are offended. But the Savior is aware of all of us and can soften hearts and bind wounds that seem beyond healing. He alone can conquer this for us.

You Know You Are the Bonus Baby of the Family and Have Oldish Parents When . . . .








. . . you're the designated reader when their glasses aren't handy.

. . . they're sacked out and snoring when you come home punctually before your curfew.

. . . your nieces and nephews' ages are closer to yours than your actual brother and sister's ages are.

. . . you're constantly having to "put words in your mom & dad's mouths" so they will finish their sentence before you nod off.

. . . you have to wake up your dad to have scripture study and family prayer each night at your bedtime.

. . . you develop a love/hate relationships with 70s & 80s music, especially Fleetwood Mac and Michael Jackson.

. . . you also develop a rare teenage ability to talk to adults confidently and challenge some of their conversation points in a respectful manner.

. . . you dine on take-out food instead of the "gourmet" mac and cheese your brother and sister endured.

. . . you attach yourself to your friends' big families and hang out with them as often as possible so you can be entertained by "annoying" little brothers and sisters who always want your attention (which you're happy to give), and as a result, you are the most in-demand babysitter in the neighborhood.

. . . you find yourself arguing with the dog over who is going to sit closest to mom during the movie.

. . . you have an extra sensitive sense about someone else's aches and pains and know the appropriate words of comfort and solace.

. . . your family dinner conversations consist of a lot of questions about doctor appointments, medications, sore feet, and retirement funds.

. . . you're the I.T. expert in your home.

. . . you hear the phrase "Oh, if only I could have some of your energy!" at least once a day.

AND

. . . you are a blessing of strength, hope, and bubbling, joyful youth in your home where your parents can teach you in a more relaxed, less strict style because they have time to savor the last few years of their hands-on parenting time.

(We love you to eternity Abs!)