"Oh Grandma, What are These Things?"

"...Proof you breathed for one short space...words on paper saying, "Love life, Live it well!"

The neighborhood note above, started brain juices going.  Then came an assignment to talk in August with the topic:  "How can capturing our stories keep our eyes on [what matters] and become a strength to those that follow? "  May I share with you pieces of my talk? 

When I was about 10 years old, my mom and I were riding to an Education Week in Boston.

Following a school bus that stopped on the road with flashing lights, the little car I was in halted suddenly.  A car behind jarred the hatchback where friends and I had been playing cards. I found myself perched on the asphalt of a four-lane highway.  Knowing memories can be fleeting, I wrote to my mom’s friend, who had been driving.  She affirmed the incident, with details of viewing her children on the grassy side of the road and safety officials affirming she was not at fault.   Who was my mom’s friend?  C.S. Lewis said:  "There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat." (C. S. Lewis (2014). “Christian Reflections”, p.11, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing)

My mom’s friend, Laurel Thatcher Ulrich,

in search of material to write a thesis for a history doctorate, discovered 1400 loose pages in a Maine library.  The pages comprised a log of an 18^th century midwife who delivered 816 babies over 27 years, a diary overlooked with its ink blots, margin comments, herb recipes and tally marks. Unlike annals of an American revolution detailing skirmishes and battles, Martha Ballard’s  papers unveiled tales of neighbors, daily doings, traveling river and horse ridden roads. Laurel peered between ledgers and jottings to carve a Pulitzer Prize winning book,

crafting a post-Revolutionary War story of births and healing, weaving and milling—mending of splintered communities, with sifting, sorting, resurrecting relationships that transcended transactions.    

What will angels do with the tally marks of my life and yours?  I know that heaven hopes to build faith among children on earth.  President Henry B. Eyring (10/2007) shared about hearing an inner nudge, “I am not giving you these experiences for yourself.  Write them down!"  He did.  Elder Richard G. Scott (BYU, 8/1993), suggested that recording a valuable message opens the path for greater mercies.  

Five years ago, I walked out of a funeral home after the viewing for a niece who died at a young age.  My heart leapt as I read words carefully penned in an 8 x 10-inch leather prayer journal. 

As I pondered sentences that spoke of thankfulness for life, the gift of a Savior, and a request to find a simple missing medical tool, I considered faith emanating from the cursive and wondered: “If it helped this niece to pen a letter to heaven, what would happen if Laurene tried it?” 

Tara Walker in a 2014 Ensign, shares ideas for gathering and keeping things that matter.  Walking through Egypt, she kept an audio journal. What other ways can you think of?  A photo journal, art diary, video log, online blog, scrapbook, or “sloppy copy” in stitched composition notebook? Would choosing a time or place help keep a habit--for exploring interests, hopes, creativity, or quieting the mind?    

“What could you do better for your children and your children’s children than to record the story of your life, your triumphs over adversity, your recovery after a fall, your progress when all seemed black, your rejoicing when you had finally achieved?” President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985), “President Kimball Speaks Out on Personal Journals,” Ensign, Dec. 1980, 61.

Val and I met Nic Brown in the mountains of Guatemala, Cobán.  Diagnosed with four illnesses, including dengue, Elder Brown’s path appeared to be headed for his family home.  Elder Nic sat weak and dejected-looking at the entryway of our stake center mission office.  Pointing to a painting of Jesus emerging from an empty tomb, 

Elder Brown asked me, “Why does the Savior still bear the marks of his wounds?" I couldn't tell him exactly why, but we reasoned that Christ wants us to see and remember what he did for us.  Watching Elder Brown, head in his hands, I so wanted to cheer him up.  I handed him a talk by President Holland telling missionaries: “Don't you dare go home!” Your brothers and sisters, your friends, future children and grandchildren need your stories!  (MTC Fireside – January, 2001)  Elder Brown stayed.  He taught in San Jerónimo and finished his mission.  A few years later, Val and I were invited to witness Nic’s temple marriage in the Twin Falls temple to our beloved friend Angie, whom we had seen baptized in Jerónimo. Nic became acquainted with  Angie after his mission, connecting with mission friends electronically.  The wedding was inspiring and beautiful. 

 In the celestial room just before the sealing, there came a discussion of unsettled questions:

 Three days before our daughter’s long-awaited delightful twins were born, my husband had received a nudge, “It's time." Time for what? Val had completed papers for our third mission.  (Have you ever related to the words of the prophet Amulek who knew but he would not know?  I was busy.  And NOT listening!)  Exiting the Twin Falls temple, Val and I crossed Wyoming to visit Honduras temple mission friends. 

Driving the long stretches brought memories of my dad’s mission diary of 1958. I had perused pen scratchings of broken bike chains and burgeoning bread dough on the counter overnight, and dusty roads traveled with a mission leader sharing words of “eternal life and the joy of the saints. “(Enos 1:3) His stories “sunk… into my heart… my soul hungered.” Resistance to serve tumbled with surrounding tumble weeds.   At 4 a.m. in a Gillette, Wyoming motel room, I finished my part of our mission papers because the day before, I had  “driven today where Glendon drove.” 

My mother Shirley’s mother passed away when Mom was 16 months old. 

 Imagine the thrill of my mom, as a teen, to poke around her farmhouse attic and find a day book penned when her mother Lucille was turning 18.  

Lucille was attending her junior year of high school after staying home as a freshman to help her mother with twins.  Lucille played and worked and met and was courted by Grandpa Floyd.  She studied and graduated valedictorian of her class.  She retires her day book at the end of 1932 concluding: “Trouble sometimes comes up, of course, but love is a great thing to help us through them.  Well, goodbye, dear Diary, I am going to lay you away and read you in later years when you will remind us both of our great happiness and love.  And maybe you can help us [and upcoming generations] to keep it. Lucille".  After scanning stories and remnants that Lucille had gathered and kept, our grandson bore his testimony in seminary, “They knew what we know!” 

Bruce Feiler taught at 2016 Roots Tech of a 2013 most read NY Times article, The Ties that bind in family stories:  “...Bottom line: if you want a happier family, create, refine and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and your ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.”   

What stories are touching and inspiring you today?  Where are they pointing you? Are there dots in your life that might need connecting? What stories might help someone you love?  I cherish President Eyring’s October 2007 invitation: 

“Tonight, and tomorrow night, you might pray and ponder, asking the questions: Did God send a message that was just for me? Did I see His hand in my life or the lives of my children? I will do that. And then I will find a way to preserve that memory for the day that I, and those that I love, will need to remember how much God loves us and how much we need Him. I testify that He loves us and blesses us, more than most of us have yet recognized. I know that is true, and it brings me joy to remember Him. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” 

Love, the Starkeys