SUNDAY CHRISTMAS....

I'm writing this on  Sunday, Christmas Day 2016.

Christmas has been on a Sunday only a half dozen times during my life.  I don't remember much about any of them except 1983.  We were sitting in the chapel on 72nd Avenue  in Arvada during a combined one hour Sacrament Meeting with the 4th Ward when I suddenly realized I hadn't put on my bra that morning when I got dressed!  I thought about that today and decided to look in my journal to see what was happening in my life that I would forget something like that. 

Oh. I was Primary president.  I coded work orders for Bill Jones.  Harold and Brice were delivering The Arvada Sentinel every week.  Ross had been in Germany for work.  The weather was frightfully cold, like as low as 22 degrees BELOW zero.  The kids were sick. And there was just the everyday stuff that went on as usual.

Here's a little snapshot of the Nichols Family for the several days preceding Sunday Christmas that year.

Monday, 12th  Left the house dirty so I could do all of the washing--left the ironing, though--and work on gifts for my sisters and finally buying one for the folks (my mother and father).  I ended up calling Glenda to see if she could give me an idea of what to buy for them. Then went shopping, to Drake to give Brice some money, to the post office to pick up work orders to code--7 more accounts, ugh!  Then went visiting teaching and to the grocery store.  Put up the Christmas tree for FHE.  After a Mexican supper and ice cream sundaes, we are FAT!

Tuesday, 13th  The newspaper printing press broke down, so no papers until tomorrow.  Since it was Lucia Day I decided to sit down and write cards to our Swedish friends.  Birgitta Brodin called while I was doing that.  I was glad to know we were thinking about each other.  Wrapped presents to my sisters and went to mail them.  More money to mail than to purchase.  Ross is in a bad mood.  Looks like Germany might be off.  Am still coding work orders.

Wednesday, 14th  Stayed up until 2 a.m. coding w/o's last night.  I just laid in bed when I heard Brice turn off the alarm at 6 a.m.  But it was no use, no one will let me rest.  Schuyler let Britty out of bed.  Dragged around until presidency meeting.  Short one--I failed to make an agenda.  Took Linda Johnson (my counselor) with me on errands.  Came home with papers so the boys could fold them.  Made carrot pudding for the Relief Society Christmas dinner.  It was okay.  I am too tired to have a good time.  Kept going to sleep.

Thursday, 15th  Gray day and snowing until we were about half finished with the papers.  Picked up more papers for an additional route tomorrow, about $7.00 extra.  Worked on balancing the checkbook.  Took until after midnight to find the dumb error.  Took Harold and Jeremy with me to go practice at the chapel.   Harold and I practiced the organ/piano duet we have to play for the Sunday Christmas program on the 18th.

Friday, 16th  Ross left for Europe on a 4 p.m. flight to Chicago.  but when he got there, his next flight had been delayed for 12 hours, so they gave him a hotel room for the night at the O'Hare Sheraton and money to eat .  Meanwhile Brittany threw up on the way home from the airport.  We still had an extra paper route to do, so she just had to go along.  Went to the ward party.  Good food.  Harold and I practiced afterward on the organ/piano duet.   Bishop Lewis brought Schuyler to me. He had thrown up in the bathroom and was trying to clean it up himself.  Brittany so ill she just sat in her stroller and didn't move.

Saturday, 17th   After being up so much in the night with vomiting kids, I just wanted to sleep in.  Didn't sleep.  Just laid in bed until 11 a.m. when I had to take Harold to the chapel for his Sunday School party.  Cathy Callahan took me to lunch for my birthday, then we shopped and came home.  The kids had kind of done the work.  Took Harold back to the chapel for practice, then he went babysitting to Del Vecchio's while I went shopping again and then to Callahan's to watch a movie on their new VCR.

Sunday, 18th  If I could have stayed home from Church, I would have.  But there is always Primary. And Harold and I were on the Christmas program. Schuyler and Brittany are just lethargic.  Britty messed her diaper so badly I had to take off all her clothes to clean her up.  Organ/piano duet went okay, but not good like we practiced.  Went to King Soopers to get money for Harold.  Accidentally pierced a can of pop and it sprayed all over me.  Ross called from France.  Britty soooo sick!

Monday, 19th  Cold out today.  Harold left at 6:30 a.m. to go skiing with the teachers quorum.  Decided to spend the day getting ready for Christmas, but only got as far as wrapping several presents.  Let the kids do as they pleased.  No one did any work.  We went to do errands and ate at McDonald's with the coupons we got as CARRIER OF THE WEEK.  The little kids are still sick with diarrhea.  I've tried everything to stop it.  Did some more work orders before bed.

Tuesday, 20th  Really cold now--about 15 degrees below zero.  Britty and Schuyler still sick.  Called the doctor again.  The nurse gave me more suggestions.  Finished the last of the seven accounts of work orders I picked up yesterday. Went to Church and sacked goodies for the Primary activity tomorrow.  Jerry and Sue Birkinshaw brought out some candy as a birthday present.  Grandpa and Grandma Huggins called.  Dad is in bad shape.  Might have to go to the hospital.  Harold came back early from skiing.  Also sick.

Wednesday, 21st  Decided this was my last chance to get cards out.  Spent almost the entire afternoon writing after we did papers.  It had been minus 22 degrees, but was only minus 16 degrees when we started the papers at 10 a.m.  Wanted to get the car washed, but even the car wash was frozen up.  Went to the chapel a 3:30 p.m. Had to run home for a tablecloth.   Finally got the Primary activity over and the tree delivered to Wilsons.  A waste as far as I was concerned  Came home, fed the kids, and put them to bed so I could code more work orders.  Did three accounts and I am so tired.  I am going to bed. Ross never called.

Thursday, 22nd  Woke up at 7:30 and pulled the work orders over to me and sat in bed coding until about 10 a.m.  Philip called and talked only about himself.  It was a laugh. Went downstairs and did the last account.  It was a big box, but the work orders were thick cardboard so I finished by noon.  Took Brice with me to take them to Bill Jones' office.  Went to the post office for more--only one skinny account this time.  Whew!  Shopped for hours.  Took Brice to eat at Arby's.  Ross called while we were gone.  Supposed to land by 11:30 p.m.

Friday, 23rd  Wished I could have left a message last night to have Ross take a taxi home from Stapleton.  The plane was delayed until 12:36 a.m., so I left at 12:10 in a snow storm.  Waited at DOOR 2 for 30 minutes before taking the chance to leave the car in the loading zone and run in and call the kids.  No sign of Ross and he hadn't called home.  Right then I saw him!  But he didn't get his luggage for another hour and a half.  The cargo door was frozen shut and they had to take a blow torch to melt the ice.  We got home at 3 am.  Phone rang at 9:50 a.m.  Rosalie with the news that Lou Sylvester had died and his funeral was at 11 that morning.  (How did I not know that before?)  We jumped out of bed, got ready and went to the funeral.  After that Ross and I went to buy a new Christmas tree, a real full-sized one after using the little one we got our first Christmas so long ago.  The kids were SO excited.  We tried to decorate it, but we were all too tired.

Saturday, 24th  Finished decorating the new tree after Schuyler and Ross got back with three more strings of lights.  Meanwhile we cleaned house and put the other decoration out.  I said "no later than midnight to bed" but it took until about 12:30 a.m. to get all the presents ready to have Christmas. 

Sunday, 25th  CHRISTMAS DAY!  Everyone is so exhausted from the cold weather and being sick and the late, late hours.  Kids didn't wake up until 7:30.  I had a hard time getting up.  Ross was worse.  It was 8:30 before we started opening presents.  Rushed and got to our combined Sacrament Meeting about 10:50 instead of 10:30.  Realized during the meeting that I hadn't put my bra on when I got dressed.  I hoped no one would notice.  Came home, ate spaghetti, and I went to bed.  Never got to rest though.  All the shouting and screaming that was going on.  Looked at 12 years of Christmas slides in the evening.  And now it is all over until next year!

And so, that is what led up to my wardrobe malfunction on Sunday Christmas 1983.  I know this was long, but I thought maybe it would be interesting to read the kinds of things that went on and compare them to what may have been parked in memories from growing up years.

I also read a little farther on in my journal.  We had a Christmas Open House on the 27th and invited 42 people from the ward and in the neighborhood.  But only EIGHT people showed up!  Yet Ross and I had gone to the Lawyers, the Schows, the Callahans, and the Birkinshaws--most of them were for refreshments and to watch movies on the new VCRs everyone was buying. (We got ours the following Christmas when we were in Berlin.) We'd spent over $80 on food and worked for two days preparing for guests that never showed up.  I wrote that I put all the stuff away and went to bed disappointed and depressed.  Isn't that a shock!

THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS...ALL YEAR LONG!

NOTE:  I GAVE THE FOLLOWING REMARKS FOR A TALK IN SACRAMENT MEETING—CARLSON FARM WARD—DECEMBER 28, 2014.  I RAN ACROSS IT RECENTLY AND THOUGHT I WOULD SHARE IT HERE AS A TESTIMONY THAT CHRISTMAS ISN'T JUST A ONE-DAY CELEBRATION.  WE HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO CELEBRATE CHRIST EVERY DAY OF THE YEAR!

THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS

Long ago, in a former life when I wasn't flying around the Friendly Skies on Christmas Day, I had a little ritual.  After all the presents were opened, the Christmas breakfast was over with, and the kids were contented and happily playing with their new stash of treasures, I would sit down at my desk and read these words from Henry Van Dyke.  They had struck a chord with me some years before when I found the poem, and they were a wonderful reminder of what Christmas is all about--The Spirit of Christ.  And then I would write the annual letter to be sent as New Years greetings to our friends and family.

I am thinking of you today because it is Christmas,                              and I wish you happiness.
And tomorrow, because it will be the day after Christmas,                       I shall still wish you happiness;
and so on throughout the year.
I may not be able to tell you about it every day...
But that makes no difference.                                                                 The thought and the wish will be here just the same...
May the Spirit of Christmas be yours throughout the year.

You may think it odd that now, three days after Christmas I am going to talk about the Spirit of Christmas, but as Henry Van Dyke wrote in 1908 the Spirit of Christmas can be yours throughout the year--indeed that is our very goal.

Actually, President Monson in the Christmas Devotional broadcast to the Church in December of 2003 expanded the idea of the spirit of Christmas lasting throughout the entire year when he said, "To catch the real meaning of Christmas, we need only drop the last syllable and it becomes the spirit of Christ."  When we come more interested in people than in things we have caught the vision of the true meaning of Christmas. 

There are many ways we can make Christmas and that spirit of Christ last all year long, but I have chosen to talk about just a few of the ways I have found helpful for me.

Today I would like to share with you what I call the Three P's.   They are important activities that can recall the Spirit of Christmas every time you participate in them:  They are Emulating Christ's Parables, Preparing for the Second Coming and establishing a Personal Ministry.

#1  Emulating Christ's Parables:

Christ taught the people very important gospel principles through stories about everyday things they were familiar with.  When we emulate the actions of the characters in His parables, we embody the ideals of Christ such as compassion, comfort, concern, and charity.

Take for example the parable of the Good Samaritan.  Now we’re not likely to find a traveler who has been beaten and robbed lying by the side of Highway 60 as it approaches Johnstown.  (I know because I would probably see them first!) But we might encounter opportunities to help people that have been “robbed” of good health through illness or rendered homeless for a dozen reasons—none of which matter.  But what does matter is what we do to take care of the poor and needy. 

Mother Teresa didn’t worry about the masses who needed help, she took care of those in need who were around her.  At times she was chastised for trying to help when her efforts were such a small drop in the bucket of miserable humanity.  But she reminded her detractors that the small help she gave those few was still an important drop.  President Monson has always been the same, taking care of the needs of the one nearby who needed help then.

So, how can we translate the parable of the Good Samaritan into our everyday, 21^st Century life?  I’m sure all of you participated within the last month to make sure someone without the means had a good Christmas.  But you can make that spirit of Christmas last through the year in other acts of service, too. 

Have you thought about reading to someone who is blind or who can no longer read because of failing eyesight?  Perhaps there is someone with a chronic illness who would appreciate a volunteer who could write letters for them—yes, even email letters.  There are dozens of community projects which operate all year long.  They collect warm coats—Roosevelt high school just did one—necessities for women’s shelters (Cub Scouts did that), toiletries for those in the military, house and yard cleanup for those too old or frail to do the yard work or housework like they used to do.  Go sing to someone—it doesn’t have to be perfectly on pitch, just genuine and loving to people who might not get out because of age or illness.  Or go play the radio for them or a CD.  Kick around a soccer ball or play an impromptu game of softball at the park.  Get out the old board games and get people together when they are on the fringes.  Think up something that you have never helped with before and blaze a new trail of concern as the Good Johnstonian.

How about the parable of the Lost Sheep.  Go after the ONE who doesn’t get picked, the one no one else has noticed, the one who doesn’t dress like the rest, the one who has secret sorrows of the heart.  You never know what a kind word, an invitation, a genuine greeting can do for those who are on the outer fringes of the in-crowd.  Make a difference in that ONE’s life!

Then there’s the parable of the Prodigal Son.  There are many around us—in our community and at our workplace—who once enjoyed the blessings of the gospel in their lives.  But for various reasons they have fallen away from activity and association with the Church.  Know this—there is usually a parent or a family member somewhere who is praying for that person’s return and for someone to care about them in a way that will kindle that spark of a spirit which I believe never dies.  Be THAT home teacher. Be THAT Visiting Teacher.  Be THAT Young Women or Young Men leader. Be THAT neighbor.  Be THAT Ward member who reaches out as a friend—over and over and over again, even when you think it isn’t making one bit of difference in the other person’s attitude or altitude in the world. When you see that person’s name on the ward list, think of them in terms of being an important part of a family who still embraces the gospel and wants very much for their family member to return. This I know because I pray for my son and his family.  I pray that their bishop and their ward won’t write them off as being without gospel roots and with no one to care about them.  

Don’t forget either that in all this giving you are doing to keep the Spirit of Christ in your life year round, you will be blessed.  Elder L. Tom Perry in a CES Devotional address in March 2011 said, “The Lord literally answers our prayers through the service we give to others.”

#2  Preparing for the Second Coming:

Now we come to the second P—Preparing for the Second Coming. 

Last week in our Relief Society and Priesthood lessons there was a great discussion about some very important aspects of our preparation for Christ to come in his glory.  One aspect was to watch and pray.  Another was to get our houses in order.  I won’t go into detail about either of those significant preparations.

However, the one preparation I want to touch on is missionary work.  We know from our prophets and apostles that the work is hastening in preparation for the Second Coming.  We can either be part of that hastening, or we can hang back and feel uncomfortable every time the subject comes up.  I hope you will feel comfortable.

The Church gives us wonderful tools to use as we participate in missionary work.  Just one month ago today the Christmas initiative He is the Gift began.  We received instructions on how to help people discover Christ, embrace Him, and then share that gift with others.  We even received pass along cards to invite our friends and associates to view that terrific 2.5 minute video which focused on Christ as the first gift of Christmas. Using social media and other means, we can reach out to an unprecedented number of people even in our small scope.

During this last month I have left for the housekeeper in each of the hotel rooms I have stayed, my written testimony of Christ, along with one of those He is the Gift pass along cards and an invitation to see the video. In addition I have handed those little cards out to my flying partners and emailed passengers and flight attendants, too, whom I have met on the plane over the years, the same invitation and the link to the video.  It’s not much, I assure you, but it’s still missionary work.  During the rest of the year I leave regular pass along cards, or I’m a Mormon cards with an invitation to read my testimony of Christ at mormon.org.

Missionary work also includes donations to the ward or church missionary funds.  Your widow’s mite along with many other widow’s mites combine to make a big difference.  Having the missionaries to dinner, inviting them to teach your friends, and yes—even having them live in your home is missionary work!

L. Tom Perry also said in that same CES Devotional in 2011 “The world has fallen away from a belief in Christ.  We must help others return to their Christian faith.”

#3  Establishing a Personal Ministry:

And now we come to my favorite P—Establishing a Personal ministry.

I always felt comfortable with the Relief Society General Presidency when   Bonnie D. Parkin was the president.  She and her counselors were my contemporaries and peers.  They went to high school the same time I did.  They were having children the same time I did.  They could relate to experiences growing up in the 50’s and 60’s. 

Sister Parkin’s messages were always homespun, down-to-earth discussions about how any one of us ordinary people could do extraordinary things.  I believed her every time she expressed those thoughts, and I felt like I had been empowered to become a better person by continuing with the good I had already established in my life.

Sister Parkin mentioned the Savior’s ministry in her BYU Devotional Address February 13, 2007. Then she asked the question, “Have you ever wondered if you have a personal ministry?”  She said she believed we all do, and that we received that personal ministry in the premortal world, that it was divinely given and lasts a lifetime.  She quoted President Kimball, “…You are accountable for those things which long ago were expected of you just as are those we sustain as prophets and apostles!”

I have listened to or read, many, many talks in my lifetime.  The majority of them have been spiritually uplifting or have been an answer to prayer, or an encouragement to go on in the face of tough circumstances, but I cannot remember a talk that resonated with me on such a deep, personal level.  Before I read this article, I knew it was important to me that I write notes to people.  But I had never really thought of it as a “personal ministry”.  But that is what it has evolved into.  Now I recognize those gestures as purposeful to my own premortal assignment. 

So I guess you are just going to keep on receiving those notes and post cards from far away places!

Your own personal ministry can be any number of things.  For some people they include acts of service, cooking, sewing, and other talents, being a peacemaker or extending oneself in friendship. 

I like to think Louis’ personal ministry is bearing testimony of the plan of salvation.  He does that almost daily with the people he works with, people he runs into—everywhere.  Case in point.  Louis went with me on my last trip.  We left early Christmas Eve morning and went first to Los Angeles and then to New Orleans for Christmas Eve night and Christmas morning.  It was nice because in 14 years I have been alone among a plethora of passengers every other Christmas except one.  He traveled with me on Christmas day, too, to Houston and then to West Palm Beach.  What a lucky individual because there was an empty seat for him on each of those four flights!  Unheard of during the holidays!  Then we got to Newark where he spent 15 hours on Friday waiting through several full flights until there was finally an empty seat about midnight.  (And so there goes the romance you might think of as getting to fly on the plane with my tickets.)  But…Louis made the best of it.  He struck up a friendship with a couple from Fort Collins who were also waiting for pass-riding seats to get to Denver.  He bore his testimony to them of the plan of salvation—they didn’t know he did—and invited them to the open house when the Fort Collins Temple is finished.  He told me all about it when he picked me up from DIA late last night.  Just another day in the life of Louis Bateman.

So, you may want to spend some time thinking about your personal ministry and pinpoint how it will ensure a spirit of Christ all year long.

CONCLUSION:

I wasn’t too keen on the short story A Christmas Carol when I was younger.  It probably wasn’t until I was in college as an English major when we studied Charles Dickens that I began to appreciate his writings and I became a fan of this classic story about Ebenezer Scrooge.  I have made it a tradition of my own ever since to either reread it every Christmas season or watch the movie—the one with George C. Scott as Scrooge is my favorite. 

You recall the story, I’m sure.  It echoes this scripture from Mosiah, “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.” 

Jacob Marley’s ghost spoke sadly to Ebenezer Scrooge of lost opportunities when he said, “Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness!  Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunities misused!  Yet such was I! Oh! Such was I!”

Marley added:  “Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led Wise Men to a poor abode!  Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!”

We can learn a valuable lesson from both Charles Dickens and the example of Christ.  President Monson in a First Presidency message in December 1987 said, “As we…remember to look outward into the lives of others, as we remember that it is more blessed to give than to receive, we, during this Christmas season, will come to see a bright, particular star that will guide us to our precious opportunity.” 

And I will add this as I close with my testimony of the Spirit of Christmas being real in our lives—it can also be always in our lives! All year long!

In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME !

I went out and bought a car for my own 71st birthday present. 

The BIG fireworks were last year for my step into the world of the Septaugenarian when my children threw a surprise birthday party for me.  Any celebration this year was going to be hard to top the one in 2015: the Thanksgiving Dinner the day before the party with EVERYONE in attendance, the family picture shoot, the make-your-own pizzas, and the homemade donuts ala Maude Huggins who used to make them per my request for my birthday instead of an ordinary cake when I was growing up .  Oh, and the personalized Trivial Pursuit Game with questions straight from 10 years worth of the Nichols Family News.

Yeah.  That was a show-stopper event.  One that could never be duplicated or even measured up to.  So, I bought a new car. 

Actually, I didn't set out to do that.  I knew I needed to purchase a new vehicle pretty soon since the Momma G Eclipse was 14 years old.  And, though it is still a near-perfect ride, I knew it would soon begin to need major replacement parts.  The original ones weren't designed to last forever.  But I just couldn't bring myself to even THINK about the overwhelming prospect of finding a car that I liked or could afford.

So, I thought I would just keep my eyes open for something that struck my fancy.  There was a little criteria I had already set up :  had to be more than just a reasonable car for one person i.e. something with four doors and room for TWO car seats if we had family visit--but on the sporty side.  Plus, I wanted to make sure the back window wasn't just one of those little peep hole things but an opening with lots of space to look out of when checking the rear view mirror.  I still wanted "four on the floor".  Oh, and the price had to be right.  Whew!  I guess that was just a little more than a few requirements. 

Still....I was in no market to even begin looking, though Louis kept trying to entice me to jump start the process by test-driving several vehicles.  Beginning with a BMW which he thought I would look good in.  (Incidentally, Brice thought the same thing and even offered an incentive.)  Not ready.  Not interested. 

Then I got a letter from Mitsubishi with news that the visor over the passenger side window was defective, and I needed to take it to the car dealership to get it repaired.  No money involved.  Why not.  So, I went up to Fort Collins Mitsubishi and had the recall taken care of.  (They put a "bra" on the visor because there were some Eclipses in which the visors just flipped down on their own and caused some kind of mayhem--however minor.  Mine had never even thought about flipping down!)

Louis suggested it was a marketing ploy to try to sell me a new car, but not one word was said about buying a new car or even looking at one of the models on the showroom floor during my visit for the recall/repair.  I was pleased about that as I have such a difficult time saying "no" to a salesperson even though I know most of the ploys they use.  I used some of them myself to sell computer memory years ago.

But one day a few weeks later as we passed by that dealership, I remarked to Louis that I kind of thought the little white sporty SUV parked out in front looked sort of like my style.  He turned right into the lot and insisted I take a test drive.  I was embarrassed.  I wasn't ready. I didn't have enough money.   I had a thousand reasons NOT to.   But Louis wouldn't take no for an answer. 

Turns out the little white sporty job was a RAV 4!  Well, I was in the dealership.  It wouldn't hurt just to take a look at the two cars on the showroom floor.  One was a great color blue.  Yet when I found out there was a red one on the lot behind us, I hung with the instant thought to check out the red one.  So, the salesman brought it around.  Turns out it was a full-sized model I was looking at, a car the same size as Louis'.  Didn't want THAT huge thing filling up space in the garage and guzzling gas.  I was used to going between 425 and 450 miles per tank of gas! 

But it was love at first sight when I saw this little Outlander Sport made by Mitsubishi.  I asked the agent why I have never seen them on the highway.  He said it was a model that was mostly marketed in Australia and just recently made its debut in the United States but that they were going to expand across the country in the next year or so.

I went on the test drive.  I was as nervous as could be with Louis to my right and the salesperson in the back seat.  But I hadn't gone more than a few blocks when I had the overwhelming assurance I could handle a car like that.  We went in to see what the damages were going to be.  As it turned out, it was a "doable" offer. 

The car is a 2016 model, so the price came down for that.  Obviously, no credit for my car because it was way too old, but there turned out to be a few thousand dollars in rebates and concessions including $500 because I am a current owner of a Mitsubishi.  And there were only 27 miles on the odometer!  It isn't the fancy version with all the bells and whistles like the back-up screen Louis has on his car or the spoiler or upgraded seats.  And no      four-on-the-floor either--automatic which I am still getting used to (like NOT putting my foot on the non-existent clutch).  I just want a basic, dependable car.  This looked like it was the one.

We left the car dealership telling the salesperson that we were going to go to a couple of other places to check out similar vehicles, but instead we went home.  I knew I wanted to buy this car, so it seemed pointless to  traipse over to Loveland Ford or Peak KIA and get inundated with reasons I should buy their sporty versions of an SUV.  After a sufficient amount of "wait time", we went back to Fort Collins Mitsubishi where I inked the papers and became the proud owner of a Rally Red Outlander Sport for just $254 a month.

There is no pre-payment penalty, so I will double the payments every month for a year, throw any bonuses and profit sharing (if we get some this spring) toward the principle, and add what little I will get from the sale of the Eclipse to that, as well.  That now delays my plan to retire until my 72nd birthday, but I am confident the year will pass quickly.  I may have to get a little job after I retire just to cover the car payment for a while, but my goal is to have the vehicle paid off in two years.

I did ask that they keep it on the lot until the first of December.  I just had sooooo many things on my plate during that time, I couldn't wrap my head around getting a new car home and the old one into the garage and readied for sale.  (That part STILL hasn't happened yet.  It's a work in process.)  I had to change all the info for the toll road, the parking lot for DIA, and the insurance, etc.  Way, way overwhelming those first few days.  Then, I settled in on my next day off and started doing all the paper work so I could take possession of my new ride.  That sporty little car found its spot in the south side of the garage after Louis took ALL the patio furniture and Burgandy's stuff down the basement so he could park the Eclipse behind the little garage door on the north. 

The first trip to DIA was a little disconcerting.  I felt like the car was going to topple over when I was going around curves since I was used to a low car that hugged the ground and responded to down-shifting.  But....all in good time.  I will get used to how this car works and the little ins and outs like how to set the clock.  It took TWO weeks before I figured that one out!

I often get myself something for my own birthday, but this is the first time my happy birthday present to myself was just too big to wrap.  But it was worth it....

A shiny red wagon!

The other pictures didn't turn out so well.  So, you only get to see the rear of the car.  It's "cute" in the front, too!

SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE...

---

I don't like to cook.  The failure rate is too high.  And the amount of time it takes to cook, and then have it be a sub par product is really discouraging.

Over the years I have blamed my unfriendly cooking outlook on the fact that I was the youngest of a large family, and my work detail for the BIG family dinners was 1) set the tables  2)  watch the grand kids 3) dry the dinner dishes, of which I was just one of many trying to keep up with my mother who could wash dishes really, really fast.

At the time I  felt lucky I didn't have to be in the kitchen sweating away among a group of women  with little space in which to accomplish putting together the delicious meals that were paraded out of there to the formal dining room in my childhood home in Rawlins.  But...my mother and older sisters all knew what they were doing.

 

As I got older I realized that busy kitchen would have been a great training ground for me to learn how to prepare food and serve it--especially for guests.  I had watched my mom over the years turn out what looked like effortless meals, countless dishes for needy people, and huge banquets for every holiday including her own birthday and Mother's Day celebrations. 

But watching just didn't cut it.  As President Kimball used to teach, we have to practice or we loose the skills we once knew.  It's not enough to know or have done it at one time in our lives, we need to keep at it in order to do our very best.

I'm sure Ross was dismayed when we got married and my cooking skills produced some pretty pathetic meals.  What I knew and could do, I had learned at college while cooking during my week of the monthly duty wheel rotation at my apartment. 

However,  Ross' mother was a horrible cook, so he didn't complain.  He ate what was prepared--burned, underdone, tasteless, or just plain crappy.  And the few times he REALLY didn't like it, he just said, "You don't ever have to fix this again."  A subtle way to tell me it wasn't so good, but not in any way that would hurt my feelings.

Ross always thanked me for preparing the meal--channeling Grandpa Huggins who said the same words to my mother every time he rose from the table.  But Ross would click an invisible button in his mid-section before he said the same thing.  It usually made me laugh.  Ross was grateful to have a meal put on the table before him.  He didn't pick or complain that wasn't what he wanted.  Over time, my skills got better, and I could actually cook some things pretty well.

But cooking for company put me into a dither!  It didn't matter if it were for visiting family, the missionaries, or guests at a holiday dinner.  (THAT was far and few between, but it did happen very occasionally.)  It would seem I lost my mind and couldn't focus on anything until the whole menu was completely ruined. 

Ross knew that I struggled and that there was usually some kind of disaster.  So, when a regular dinner at home turned out perfectly, Ross would say, "Too bad we're not having company tonight."  And that would assuage my paranoia that I couldn't ever cook a decent meal.  Because there were lots of fiascos. 

For example:  Invited my supervisor at the library for dinner to reciprocate after she had fed Ross and me an authentic  Italian dinner with homemade, hand tossed pasta.  I thought a roast would be easy.  Nada!  It was totally scorched and dry.  Plus I'm sure the rest of the meal was also not so great either.  I was embarrassed to say the least. 

Here's another one:  totally forgot the potatoes for Christmas dinner when both the Nichols and Huggins grandparents came to Christmas dinner in 1976.   We sat down to eat--no potatoes.  Didn't just forget to put them on the table--they hadn't even been peeled  or cooked!

When we were in Sweden the missionaries came to dinner for a menu of Mexican food.  I always steamed the pintos and made refried beans from scratch.  That day I must have salted the beans TWICE while preparing them, once while steaming and once while mashing them.  They were soooo salty we couldn't eat them.  Probably gave the Elders hypertension, as well!

I could go on and on.  And with each incident that I remember, my cheeks burn all over again.

So, I learned early on that taking food to Church dinners always meant I would be taking it home again.  It would sometimes be the ONLY dish that had anything left in it--a LOT left in it.  And there were other occasions that my dish was held  "in reserve" in the church kitchen because the other women were such good cooks, theirs were the ones that got served.  After that happened enough times and my next assignment had been baked potatoes with the same result--I found them in the kitchen untouched-- I always made sure my contribution was bread or salad dressing, or some other food item that I didn't care whether or not it got used.

And taking a meal to someone--not my forte.  Though I always accepted the assignment anyway and then jockeyed with my Visiting Teaching partner for me to take the "incidentals" like salad and bread, dessert maybe.  I could do pretty good desserts.

After years and years of feeling bad because I had never morphed into Chef Molly Mormon, I finally understood THAT wasn't my personal ministry.  I had come to know just exactly WHAT my personal ministry is--and it doesn't have to do with food!

However, I set myself up for failure once again.   The young couple across the street who is in our ward had their baby on Thanksgiving Day instead of Martin Luther King Day, and the babe will be in the hospital for a long time.  When the "take in dinner" sheet came to Primary in the RS binder, I saw one of the days on the calendar was one  I was going to be at home.  I thought, "How hard can this be?  I will fix two of my best dishes--homemade potato soup and hot chicken sandwiches--include a tossed salad with some extras and round it out with some pumpkin pie still in the freezer from Thanksgiving.  A snap! I can handle this."

The appointed time came.  Knowing I was going to have lunch with Cathy Callahan at 11 am that day, then go straight to the temple in the afternoon, I made the guts for the chicken sandwiches the night before AND peeled the potatoes and put them in cold water in the fridge and took the pie out of the freezer to the refrigerator to thaw.  I also cut up some of the extras for the salad I would be tossing just before I took the meal across the street.  Is all I had to do the next day was unwrap and fill the crescent dough to bake the sandwiches and make the soup.  All doable to be done between five and six p.m.

But at my Primary meeting the night before, the  assignment fell to me to pick up, the day of the dinner, a dozen bottles of sparkling fruit juice for our Christmas offering to Primary workers.  Oh, and that was compounded by not getting up before five a.m. as usual because I had waked up that morning at 2:30 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep.  Primary on my mind after our meeting the night before and much to do to get ready for our new Primary year.  So, I got out of bed and went upstairs to work at the computer for a few hours.  THEN I went to bed.  NOT a good thing to do, but by then I was really tired and needed some shut-eye to function. 

Here again is proof of that old adage I learned as a young mother in Relief Society:  "an ounce of morning is worth a pound of afternoon"--ala Daryl Hoole.  I used up my morning ounces, and there weren't enough pounds left to do my assignment to take dinner to our neighbors the way it should have been done. 

First it was too much drive time in the car.  Johnstown down to Westminster up to Fort Collins then down to Loveland with stops in between to cover the bases for some other stuff that needed to be done, in addition attending the temple.  TRAFFIC on I-25. I didn't get home until 5:15 p.m.!

Right off the bat I started to panic.  Then instead of focusing on the best things to do in priority, I decided to start the potatoes to steam.  The steam valve is so old and the rubber so hard, it cracked and fell right into the pan.  FREAK!  I put the pan on the burner and wondered if the whole thing would blow up like happened to Lois once and she had a mess on her kitchen ceiling.  Then I started sautéing the onions in butter.  Decided to toss the salad.  Put it into a bag, but not back into the fridge.  Rolled out the crescent dough and pinched it into squares and got the melted butter and bread crumbs ready to dip the tops into. 

Oh, no!  There is a huge amount of steam coming out of that open hole.....but how long should I let the potatoes cook without the steam inside the pressure cooker?  I glanced over at the onions in butter.  The onions were carmelized and the butter was brown!  No! No! No!  Take it off the burner, take out the too-brown onions, add more butter and try to get that melted for the addition of the flour.

Terrible smells of scorching food--and I knew exactly what had happened.  The water had burned off, and the potatoes were cooking right on the bottom of the pan--burning is the better word.  I looked at the clock.  Too late to start more potatoes.  It was already inching toward six thirty.  And the sandwiches were ready to come out of the oven.

I cooled the pressure cooker and opened the lid.  Very few potatoes managed to escape death by scorching.  I spooned out the ones I could, carefully lifted out some more and tried to slice off the burned parts so I could make the potato puree.  Very little puree!

So, I made the white sauce base with flour and cooked it with milk.  Tasted like hot milk with a little bit of potato flavoring.  What to do?  So, I melted more butter, made more flour paste with that and used the hot soup to make a thick base and added it to the thin, watery, watery soup.  It actually turned out pretty good with those additions!

It was nearly seven p.m. when I called Aubrey and told her I was FINALLY coming across the street.  It had been more than an hour since I had called and told her the sandwiches took about half and hour to bake and I would be over then.  So, I put the soup into a quart jar, the sandwiches on the cute Christmas platter I had bought at the thrift store and scrubbed up, the now limp salad with croutons and cheese baggies, and two pieces of pumpkin pie on a red plastic candy dish I had purchased at the dollar store onto a cloth covered cookie sheet and embarrassingly and apologetically skulked across to the Wilsons.  Aubrey graciously thanked me for bringing supper when she was probably thinking in her mind what kind of woman as old as I am could run into so many cooking roadblocks and deliver a little meal for two people nearly two hours late. 

Too bad there was no assignment on that sheet in the RS binder to set the table for the take-in meal.  Now that is something I learned really well all those years ago as the youngest.  Over the years I have collected table cloths plus fancy, plain, and unusual plates and dishes because I DO love to set the table.  So, I can still set a pretty terrific table that looks gracious and inviting for a sumptuous repast cooked to perfection.  Sometimes that good looking table even downplays a meal that isn't so great either.  My mother always used to say, "Make the table look inviting.  Even if there isn't a lot to eat or it's not fancy, the food will taste good anyway."

Now I have yet another memory of good intentions going awry.  I couldn't believe all the disasters for that meal.  If it could go wrong, it did go wrong.  So, that is why I'm sticking to a pen and paper for my personal ministry...

Because some things NEVER change!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless 4G LTE Tablet

THIS JOB CAN MAKE YOU CRAZY@#$%&*?!

A few weeks ago when I had a layover for the first time in Missoula, Montana, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep.  I had been all set for a good night's rest because I was in my own  Mountain Time Zone and didn't even have to get up until 5:30 a.m.   A couple hours later than we had been getting up on layovers all month.  Both good circumstances for a full night of sleep. 

But when my peepers wouldn't close again an hour or so after midnight when I got up to go to the bathroom--and I had tried every trick in the book to get back to sleep including the ones my mother taught me when I was growing up--I began to panic.  I NEVER look at the clock in the middle of the night just so I don't start counting the hours that I have left for a potentially good night's rest.  That can put me into a panic right there if there is less than an hour:  "I'll never be able to get enough rest for a full day of flying ahead of me.!"  Then if I don't take a peek at the clock, I start to second guess myself that I didn't turn the alarm on.  That I didn't set the alarm for the right time.  That I didn't even set the alarm at all! 

I tried NOT to look at the clock.  Too late!  My eyes automatically caught the red display which revealed I had been tossing and turning for about two and a half hours.  I suspect I had even gone to sleep and dreamed I was awake.  I've done THAT before.  Then miraculously, mercifully, I fell into a deep, deep sleep but woke up abruptly because of my very vividly real dream. 

I dreamed I was in a group somewhere--it had started out with Judy in the group--and there was a male Southwest flight attendant.  The details blurred as I gradually awakened, but I was supposed to be getting ready for a 7 am pick up.  The Southwest guy was boasting about something, and I thought maybe I had better just check the clock while he was telling his story.  It was 8:30 am!

I was freaked out and said I would just have to go to work the way I was dressed  I still had my uniform on, but I remember trying to pull it off over my head and also a big necklace with some red daisies on it.  I recall thinking I was going to have to have someone in the group take me to DIA.  I distinctly saw the way to DIA from Brice and Judy's house to the airport.  That was when I woke up for real and was afraid to look at the clock because the memory of that awful morning in Houston when the alarm was off by an hour and I had to go without a shower, etc. has been etched permanently onto my subconscious brain. Mind games!

My heart was racing because of my dream.   I was REALLY scared to look at the clock.  But I knew I had to.  It was 5:10 am!  I hadn't been asleep very long, yet I had managed to stuff a whole detailed story full of stress into that compressed byte of time while I was asleep.  After the feeling of relief that I wasn't late after all, it still took me a few minutes lying there to calm my racing heart.  While I was staring at the ceiling I thought of an experience I had in Chicago just a few months after I began flying.

It was Fall of 2000 when I had luckily found a nice two-bedroom apartment in Mount Prospect  not too far from United's Training Center in Elk Grove Village.  My roommates were young, about the same ages as my older kids.  The young man Greg and the beautiful young woman Renata deBorba (ALWAYS thought that was a classy name!) shared one of the bedrooms--not as boyfriend/girlfriend, though--and I shared the other bedroom with an attractive young woman by the name of Shannon O'Donnell.  Because our suitcases and totes took up so much space, we had a "house rule" that we parked all our suitcases out in a designated space in the living room. 

I had let Brittany take my car to Provo to have at college (what WAS the name of that place?).  I had cavalierly waved goodbye to her as I sailed out the door for DIA and six weeks of training in Chicago just days before her classes started.  What a contrast to the times Harold and Brice left for college.  I had "mother-henned" the big boys into their dorm rooms at BYU and Ricks, respectively, but poor Britty I left to get where she needed to go on her own.  Thankfully, big sister Burgandy took her and her stuff over to Provo.  So, when Britty called and asked if she could take my car to college--what could I say after I had so unceremoniously left her to fend for herself in a new college experience?  "Of course, you can." 

However, the initial request for Brittany to have my car at her disposal until such and such a time was extended when she called and wheedled me into a new agreement terminating several more weeks down the road.  That meant I was without wheels in Chicago, but it was a doable thing.  As soon as I got my reserve assignment each time, I would call a taxi and take the $5/5 minute ride to the Training Center so I could catch the UAL bus headed for O'Hare.  It all worked out.

One night I was home alone in the apartment.  The others were each on a trip, so I turned out all the lights and went to bed, knowing that I would probably get a call from the Crew Desk for my own trip sometime after midnight.  Not long after I went to bed, my roommates each came home from their assignments, said a brief "hello" and also went to bed.

Sure enough, about four hours later I got a call for a 6 a.m. standby assignment at O'Hare.  I called for a taxi pick-up at 5:30am and reset my alarm so I could sleep another hour or so. When it was time to get up, I moved through the dark of our bedroom to the bathroom which was connected to mine and Shannon's room so I could get ready.  (Greg and Renata used the main bathroom for their personal care.)  After I was completely prepared for work, I tiptoed out to the main room and flipped on the light so I could put a few things into my bag. 

Mine was the only suitcase and tote siting in the living room.  The rest of the area was bare! I shook my head like maybe I wasn't seeing straight.  Where were the other bags that were supposed to be parked next to mine?   All three of them had come in after I had gone to bed.

I just stared at my suitcase for a minute or so.  Then I tiptoed back to my bedroom and gently turned on the light.  Shannon's bed was empty!  I walked to the other side of the apartment and went down the short hallway to Greg and Renata's room.  Again I carefully turned on the light switch.  Their beds were empty, too!  But I knew they had come home!  I had talked to them before I went back to sleep and they went to bed.  Yet they clearly weren't there!

I called the Crew Desk.  "This is Georgia Nichols, 265584.  Did you call me and give me a standby assignment for 6 a.m.?"  The  voice on the other end told me "no" and that my number on the board still hadn't come up.  "Are you sure?"  After the crew scheduler assured me I did NOT have an assignment, I then told her the whole story.  It was apparent by my file number that I was fairly new.  So she probably "got it" right away.  Then she started to chuckle.

"Honey, this job will make you crazy!  Cancel that taxi and go back to bed!"

So I did.  Never did get a call with an assignment for the entire rest of the day.  And when my roommates came home the next afternoon, we all got a huge laugh out of the dream I had that was sooo real I got up and got ready to go to work.

Needless to say, the crew scheduler was right. 

This job has made me crazy@#$%&*?!

THE LAST HURRAH...!

AUTUMN DAY...BRIGHT AND GAY!

The weather has remained absolutely phenomenal for the past month.  This is really the first and ONLY Autumn Season I can remember in all my time in Colorado--nearly 50 years now since 1968--that there hasn't been at least one hard frost before November.  Or even a skiff of snow on those rare years we actually HAD an Autumn. 

But this year has been exceptional.  Though most of the trees have lost their leaves, the grass isn't really brown (and some lawns are still lush green) there are still flowers blooming in the gardens.  I have gone out twice now in the last two weeks to round up the dead plants, empty the garden containers, and even put the lawn furniture away.  I have come back in without having accomplished my goal because so many flowers are still blooming.  I've just rearranged the pots and watered the ones which needed a perk. 

All of the patio furniture has been cleaned and is in the garage, shrouded for next summer.   Except for the metal chaise lounge which I folded and left out "just in case" I might get an opportunity to sit on the patio one last time. 

That one last time was today.  We had our Regional Video Conference at 10 am- noon at our stake center across from the Temple.  I had been kind of bummed about having to attend a SECOND stake conference after our "real" one in September, but it was a very spiritual and uplifting meeting.  I don't remember any details about the last one we had, but I definitely felt good about this one.  As we walked to the car, the day was just brilliant and "feel-good", especially with the temple in view.  A definite combination of sun and Son.

So, I decided today was the day I was going to sit outside for one last time.  AND kill two birds with one stone while I was out there.  Since I wasn't able to watch the special "Teaching in the Savior's Way" broadcast yesterday because I wasn't anywhere near a place I could tune in  even on my tablet, I figured why not sit outside and enjoy concurrently both the lingering ambiance of the back yard and the spiritual insight to the Savior's unique way of teaching . 

Truth be told, I had to wrap up in a blanket because even though the temperature was over 70 degrees, the back of the house was already in shadow, and the wind was chilly.  Reminded me of growing up in Wyoming.  Chill wind even on a summer's day that would make a jacket and even a blanket welcome.  But once ensconced in a little cocoon before I pushed "play", all was well and I was comfortable.  What a great way to attend a meeting!

Daylight savings time is over.  The sun will be gone in another thirty minutes, but right now the slant of light is still warm and buttery as it comes in the front windows.  Cold has been forecast for tomorrow.  Does that mean snow is just around the corner?  I suppose so.  One day soon, I'll get up and see everything covered in white.  It will be a shock, as that first storm always is, but it will also be more seasonal.  And then we can get on with our late year agendas.

Next it will be over the river and through the woods....but not to this grandma's.  I am scheduled to fly Tuesday through Saturday of Thanksgiving week.  Boo Hoo!

ONE WOMAN'S QUEST TO STAY VALIANT IN HER TESTIMONY OF JESUS CHRIST AND HIS GOSPEL...

INTRODUCTION:  Not surprisingly with the new Fort Collins Temple in the forefront of our lives for the past six months, it seemed natural  for the bishopric of the Carlson Farm Ward in Johnstown to focus the topics for Sacrament Meeting talks around temples, temple work, temple experiences, being worthy for a recommend, etc.

The temple dedication had just taken place three days before I returned from a trip late one night and listened to my one voice message.  It was from the second counselor in the bishopric who asked me to give a talk on the following Sunday (October 23, 2016) addressing how I stay valiant in my testimony, with particular reference as to how that affects my temple worship.

It was an easy talk to prepare.  I have a whole "United Airlines lifetime" of material from which I could write a BOOK, let alone a talk for Sacrament Meeting.  I sat down at the desk in my Marriott Hotel room in Atlanta a couple of nights later after we were done flying for the day, and this is what I wrote and delivered to the congregation for my talk.

I thought maybe you might like to hear about some of my efforts to keep valiant in my testimony working in an industry that does little to harbor sacred feelings,  religious experiences, or support for the basic moral laws which have always been the foundation of marriage and family.  It has not always been simple or easy, but it is definitely doable!

THE TALK:

When the new Millennium dawned at the turn of the 21st century, it presented some options that had not been available before.  Consequently, I decided to leave the structured Monday through Friday work week in corporate America and join the service industry with its irregular schedules and iffy opportunities for a "normal" life. That meant Sundays would be in question, as well as regular time for a calling in the ward.

I struggled with the pros and cons of those questions but figured the dilemma would automatically be taken care of for me because United Airlines probably would NOT accept my application for employment as a flight attendant.  After all I was a 54 year old woman living a sheltered life, with a home, a family, and lots of tethers to those things.  I could get myself a piece of bread and to the bathroom in five languages but that hardly constituted being able to "speak" a foreign language.

At that time, United was looking for mature people from the business world who had sat in their planes' business seats.  That was ME during the years I had traveled for the corporations with whom I had worked.  After a long interview process the deal was clinched when, during a final interview at United's corporate headquarters in Chicago, I was asked if United hired me, what could I bring to United.

After I answered, "Thirty years ago when I graduated from college your recruiters were looking for beauty.  Now you are looking for experience, and I have a lifetime of it."  The interviewer looked at me and said, "I think we want you!"

And THAT'S when I had to decide whether or not I wanted to swing 180 degrees from everything I had been used to for so many years. 

I accepted United's offer and figured the Lord would get me through this new experience just as he had for every other endeavor and challenge in my life prior to that time.  But I was also aware that wouldn't happen without a lot of effort on my part, as well, starting with my personal desire which was to stay as close to the Church and the gospel of Jesus Christ as I could.

Truthfully, if I had not had that determination it would have been soooo easy to set my membership in the Kingdom aside and succumb to an easier way to deal with my inability to control my schedule.

My first five years with United was straight reserve:  that means they told me where, when and how long.  I did have the ability to submit a bid every month for what days I wanted to work, but my seniority was so low that during most of that time, including one stretch of 13 months where I had NO SCHEDULED Sunday off, my days off were middle of the week days--never a weekend.  I never got any of the choices I submitted that would allow me to attend meetings at home.  That was discouraging!

There are a fair number of flight attendants who belong to the Church that I have run into over the years who have told me they are no longer active because their schedule didn't allow it.  Or those who say they belong to the Church but now drink coffee or tea because they had to stay awake or wanted a hot drink, or everyone else is having Starbucks!  Or many even who have served missions but have turned to alternative life styles and a complete reversal toward the doctrine about marriage and the family. Their political choices are usually polar opposite of what mine are, as well. 

I can see where it would be easy to be nervous about the people in the large and spacious building mocking and pointing fingers.  The work force in the airline industry is full of them.  On occasion, I have had people tell me my church is intolerant, practices polygamy, and is biased.   And yet, wonder of wonders, I have flown with a couple of people who have actually defended my faith and the Church for me to others because they know members of the Church who DO live the principles and commandments of the gospel.

There was a choice from day one whether or not I was going to hold onto the iron rod.  I wanted to hold to the rod.  So, this is how I have tried to remain valiant in my testimony.

FIRST It seemed imperative that I keep my life away from home as regular as if I were home.  Each night when I get to my hotel room, one of the first things I do is take out a small picture of the temple.  That makes my hotel room a holy place for as long as I am there.  This last week I retired my little picture of the Denver Temple and replaced it with a picture of the Fort Collins Temple. 

Every day I have a morning devotional in my hotel room which I begin with my morning prayer, then I sing a hymn and study my scriptures before I get ready for my flights and leave for the airport.

No matter where I am on Monday nights, I have Family Home Evening for one in my hotel room.  It isn’t long or elaborate, but I study some gospel principle then give myself an assignment that relates specifically to what I studied.  And I usually end with a treat, just like at home.

SECOND I determined that I could have a Sabbath attitude even if I had to fly on Sunday. 

If my trip started later in the day, I tried to attend some part of my own ward either in Chicago or here in Colorado.  The same with coming in from a trip later in the day on  Sunday --I have stopped at chapels along the way home in order to attend Church and sometimes only got there in time for Relief Society.  That's when I loved the chapels that had wards meeting as late as two or two-thirty p.m. start time.  It meant I could have a Sabbath experience. 

Many, many times in those first years (and even some after that) I had layovers on Sunday that were long enough where I could either walk or rent a car or take a taxi or the train to the nearest chapel.  I started by looking in the phone book for the telephone number of the bishop’s office or the hall phone to see if there were any ward members who could swing by and pick me up for Church.  As time went on that became easier because I could just look on the Church’s website for the nearest location of a ward.   

I have been to Church in Chicago, Kansas City, Washington DC, Manchester New Hampshire, Philadelphia, St. Petersburg, Los Angeles, a Tongan ward in San Francisco, St. Louis, Atlanta, Sioux Falls, Portland, Seattle, Detroit, and Orlando among other cities. A couple of times Louis ended up in the same city as I was in while he was traveling for HIS work and I showed him where we could go to Church together. 

On one occasion, I called a bishop who told me there were no ward members near my hotel, but that I could take the train from the airport to the Oakland station where I would be able to see the chapel out the train window.  That would be my stop.  I did that and walked over to the church building where I met Bishop Jermaine Sullivan and many other members of the Atlanta Ward whom I recognized a couple of years later when I saw the movie MEET THE MORMONS!

Ward members in all of those places have been the kind of people you hear about in General Conference talks...the ones who come up to the stranger in their midst and welcome them.  Many have given me their phone numbers in case I ever had that same layover on a Sunday again.  I always assured them that my being with them that day was a once in a lifetime experience, yet on a few occasions I did have a layover on a Sunday again in the same city.  And I did indeed call those people who then went out of their way to pick me up so I could attend Church with them again. 

The Lord has provided so many tender mercies for me to be able to attend Church over the years!  There is no way I could even begin to count them.  I have been blessed by a myriad of lessons with thought provoking spiritual discussions.  I have been touched by uplifting talks, including one very memorable one on High Council Sunday in St. Petersburg by a high councilor originally from Colorado who invited the congregation to “EXECUTE WITH EXCELLENCE!”  That advice still rings in my ears….

When flight attendants used to be able to read while we were sitting on the jump seat, I always made sure I read the Ensign magazine on Sundays.  It was a surefire way to strike up a conversation about the gospel and my beliefs. Or share with the other person some wonderful nugget of gospel thought.

If it is Fast Day, I fast.  And I look for opportunities to share why I am and what Fast Day is for.  That in turn gives opportunities for my co-workers to share with me what they have heard about the Church's HELPING HANDS program and what kinds of things THEY do to alleviate the suffering of the poor and needy.

THIRD, I knew I could be valiant in my testimony by bearing it to others--coworkers and passengers, too, for all of a sudden I had a ready audience.  It was like being a Stake Missionary all over again.  I remembered what President Uchtdorf said in General Conference years ago--and repeated last Sunday at the temple dedication--share with others what happens in our Church meetings over the weekend.  A talk, a principle from a lesson, and things like that instead of talking about the weather or the big game over the weekend.  Mentioning that my sons served missions for our church—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—is a great segue to gospel discussions and opportunities to bear witness about some gospel principle.

So, without couching my testimony in the phrases we use here over the pulpit, I have shared my testimony with words like, "I know, I feel, I believe, I am sure, I have had a personal experience with that."  And statements about God and Jesus Christ such as “I believe God goes to a lot of trouble to orchestrate things behind the scenes for us...and it is up to us to be in tune so we know when we can help other people.”  Or something like “Christ's atonement gives us comfort during our times of sorrow and sadness.  It has been so for me.”

The most amazing thing for me in working with all these people at my employment, is that so many of them DO believe in a higher power.  They have also had spiritual experiences which they have shared with me.  It is a testimony to ME, that we are all children of God and he loves and watches over all of us. I don't know why I thought Mormons had a corner on the market of God's love and attention.  But I found out we don’t.

FOURTH I knew I needed a calling in order to keep me involved with my ward and not be isolated.  I didn't want to transfer my records from my ward in Arvada to my Chicago ward, but I still wanted to serve.  I approached the Relief Society president in Arvada and asked if I could write letters to the no-contact sisters, as I had done that years before in Berlin, Germany.  She spoke with the bishop about it, and he said he thought it would be a good idea.  That began a calling I have had now in all the wards I have been in for the last 16 years.  What a wonderful way to serve! 

I was also a Visiting Teacher in my Chicago Ward, and was invited to substitute for the Gospel Doctrine teacher now and then.  Same in Arvada.  I was a team teacher there with the Gospel Doctrine teacher during those early years when I was based in Chicago and commuted home every Sunday I had a chance. 

When Louis and I moved to Johnstown, it was during that horrible period when I did not have one single scheduled Sunday off.   And it took a long time to feel like I was a part of the Johnstown Ward because I hardly ever got to attend our meetings.  

Bishop Hull called me to be a Family History specialist, but my assignment was to spend a certain amount of time each week writing my OWN family history.  And thus began the Nichols Family Newsletter which I wrote for my children for 10 years.  The idea of sitting down and writing “I Georgia Carol Huggins Nichols Bateman was born  blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…” didn't appeal to me.  Instead I told the story of my life in little chapters like my school experiences and my relationship with my seven sisters, cars I had owned, moving to Denver after I graduated from BYU, and our experiences living in Europe, plus my testimony interspersed about any number of different gospel principles directly related to what had happened to me and with my children in the Nichols Family.

Then came callings to play the organ for Sacrament meeting and serve and teach in Relief Society and attend the temple with them.  All these interactions with ward members here at home helped me remain valiant in my testimony.

I also continued playing the organ at the Denver Temple, but instead of a regular slot like before, I was on the sub list and played for others when they needed to be absent and I was available.

Finally that brings me to a very important thing which has helped keep my testimony bright and strong.  And that is the temple.

During those years in Chicago when I never had a Sunday off for real, I would go to the Chicago Temple during the week so I could have a spiritual "church experience".  Now the Fort Collins Temple is close, but the Chicago Temple was only 10 minutes up the road from my apartment.  Plus, I would do the same thing in my layover cities during the week, as I did on Sunday.  But instead of finding a chapel, I would walk, take the bus, or rent a car so I could go to the temple. 

You cannot imagine how the Lord has blessed me when I have made the effort to do that.  I have had wonderful experiences in Boston, Orlando, Washington DC, Las Vegas, Reno, Salt Lake City, Omaha, Atlanta, and other temples.   Another plus has been the times Louis came with me on layovers to San Diego, Honolulu, Calgary, and Edmonton Alberta where we attended the temple together.

The temple has been a major subject on the minds of all of us for the last several months as we have geared up for the finale--the Cultural Celebration and the Dedication of the Fort Collins temple last week. 

We have anticipated a shorter drive with less hassle of traffic, that's for sure, but these months have also given us time to reflect on what the temple means to each of us individually. 

I have always loved the account of Hannah in the Old Testament 1st Samuel chapter one.  You know the story:  Hannah was one of Elkanah's two wives.  But not only was she not able to bear a child, the first wife gave her a hard time about it.  Year after year Hannah would faithfully go with the rest of the family to the temple to worship.  Her one prayer was that the Lord would give her a son whom she would consecrate BACK to the Lord.  Eli the priest saw her and, in the course of the narrative, tells Hannah to go in peace, that the God of Israel would grant her petition. 

Shortly thereafter, Hannah does have a baby boy whom she later brings to the temple to serve as consequence of her promise.

Here in Hannah's story is one temple lesson for me:  the temple is a place where we can go when our hearts are troubled and we need solace.  Our prayers and our deep petitions which we offer there will be answered.  That has been the case many times in my lifetime.  I have always found comfort and even solutions for some of the thorny problems in my life.  Direction given to us in the temple is pure and goes straight to a humble heart which is seeking divine guidance.

Two other lessons from the temple were called to mind again last Thursday when I went to the Fort Collins Temple for the first time since the dedication. 

Adam had a great determination to keep all of God's commandments.

But Eve could see the eternal view and knew that without the Fall, the Lord's plan of happiness would be frustrated.   The priority law to support that plan was that they multiply and replenish the earth. 

Brothers and Sisters, the temple is our focus.  It is the only place where our families can realize the potential we have been given to be a forever family.  We need to be steadfast and immovable in keeping the commandments, but we must keep the commandments not just as requirements.  We need to see the commandments with the understanding that they are the means we have of achieving eternal life.

Let the temple be your beacon.  Go often to worship there because it is the receptacle of God's light and love for us here on earth.  Go when your heart is troubled.  Go when you need answers.  Go as you do your family history work.  Go, not only because it is a commandment, but because it provides a greater eternal view for our—sometimes—limited  earthly perspective.

That we do so is my prayer.