Parenting: Everything to Do with the Heart BY PATRICIA T. HOLLAND

This is another wonderful talk by Praticia Holland!!  I love how she shares quite personal experiences and recalls how difficult things could be BUT that she was able to make righteous parenting decisions by coming to The Lord in humble prayer....

"When a four-year-old was asked recently why her baby brother was crying, she looked at the baby, thought for a moment and then she said, “Well, if you had no hair, no teeth, and your legs were wobbly, you would cry too.”

We all come into the world crying—and a little bit wobbly. For parents to take a newborn infant, who is then only a bundle of potentialities, and love and guide and develop that child until a fully functional human being emerges is the grandest miracle of science, and the greatest of all arts.

When the Lord created parents, he created something breathtakingly close to what he is. We who have borne children innately know that this is the highest of callings, the holiest of assignments—and that is why the slightest failure can cause us crippling despair.

Even with our best intentions and our most heartfelt efforts, some of us find our children not turning out the way we’d like. They are sometimes very difficult to communicate with. They might be struggling in school or emotionally distressed or openly rebellious or painfully shy. There are lots of reasons why they may still be wobbling a bit.

And it seems that even if our children are not having problems, a nagging uneasiness keeps us wondering how we can keep them off such painful paths. At odd moments we find ourselves thinking, “Am I doing a good job? Are they going to make it? Should I spank them or should I reason with them? Should I control them or should I just ignore them? Reality has a way of making the best of us feel shaky as a parent.

I just reread this recently from my journal, written when I was a young and a very anxious mother:

“I continually pray that I will never do anything to injure my children emotionally. If I ever do cause them to hurt in any way, I pray they will know I did it unwittingly. I cry often inside for things I may have said and done thoughtlessly, and I pray not to repeat these transgressions. I pray that I haven’t done anything to damage my dream of what I want these children to become. I hunger for help and a guide—particularly when I feel that I have failed them.”

Well, rereading that after all these years makes me feel my children are turning out surprisingly well for having had such a basket case for a mother. And I share that with you because what I have wanted most of all to convey to you is that I am one of you—a parent, carrying a bundle of guilt for past mistakes, shaky confidence for the present, and fear of future failing. Above all, I have wanted every parent within the sound of my voice to have hope.

Inasmuch as almost none of us is a professional in child development, you can imagine why I was so encouraged to hear this from one who is. A faculty member at Brigham Young University said to me one day: “Pat, parenting has almost nothing to do with training. It has everything to do with your heart.” When I asked him to explain further he said:

“Often parents feel the reason they do not communicate with their children is that they are not skillful enough. Communication is not nearly as much a matter of skill as it is of attitude. When our attitude is one of broken-heartedness and humility, of love and interest in our children’s welfare, then that cultivates communication. Our children recognize that effort on our part. On the other hand, when we are impatient, hostile, or resentful, it doesn’t matter what words we choose or how we try to camouflage our feelings. That attitude will be felt by their discerning hearts.”

Jacob in the Book of Mormon said we must all come down in the depths of humility and consider ourselves fools before God if we would have him open the gate of heaven to us. (2 Ne. 9:42.)

That humility, including our ability to admit our mistakes, seems to be fundamental both for receiving divine help and for earning our children’s respect.

My daughter is a musically talented young woman. For many years I felt that this talent would not be developed unless I loomed over her at the piano and insistently supervised her practice like a Simon Legree. One day, sometime in her early teens, I realized that my attitude, probably once useful, was now visibly affecting our relationship. Torn between a fear that she would not fully develop a God-given talent and the reality of an increasingly strained relationship over that very issue, I did what I had seen my own mother do when faced with a serious challenge. I sequestered myself in my secret place and poured out my soul in prayer, seeking the only wisdom that could help me keep that communication open—the kind of wisdom and help that comes from the tongues of angels. Upon arising from my knees, I knew what action I must take.

Because it was just three days before Christmas, I gave to Mary as a personal gift an apron from which I had conspicuously cut the apron strings. There was a tiny pocket on the apron in which I tucked a note. It read: “Dear Mary, I’m sorry for the conflict I have caused by acting like a federal marshall at the piano. I must have looked foolish there—just you and me and my six-shooters. Forgive me. You are becoming a young woman in your own right. I have only worried that you would not feel as fully confident and fulfilled as a woman if you left your talent unfinished. I love you. Mom.”

Later that day she sought me out, and in a quiet corner of our home, she said: “Mother, I know you want what is best for me, and I have known that all my life. But if I’m ever going to play the piano well, I’m the one who has to do the practicing, not you!” Then she threw her arms around me and with tears in her eyes she said, “I’ve been wondering how to teach you that—and somehow you figured it out on your own.” Now, by her own choice, she has gone on to even more disciplined musical development. And I am always nearby to encourage her.

As Mary and I reminisced about this experience a few years later, she confided in me that my willingness to say “I’m sorry, I’ve made a mistake, please forgive me” gave to her a great sense of self-worth, because it said to her that she was worthy enough for a parental apology, that sometimes children can be right. I wonder if personal revelation ever comes without counting ourselves as fools before God? I wonder if reaching and teaching our children requires becoming more childlike ourselves? Shouldn’t we share our deepest fears and pain with them, as well as our highest hopes and joys, instead of simply trying to lecture and dominate and reprove them again and again?

I would like to close with an experience that occurred just this month.

For three days in a row, my son Duffy (who is our eleven-year-old linebacker) leaped from some hidden corner of our home to throw a body block on me, Super Bowl style. The last time he did this, in my effort to avoid the blitz, I fell on the floor and knocked over the lamp and found my fight elbow wedged up somewhere near my eyebrow. I completely lost my patience, and I scolded him dearly for making me his tackling dummy.

His response melted my heart when he said with tears rolling down both cheeks, “But, Mom, you’re the best friend a guy could have. I thought this was as much fun for you as it was for me.” Then he added, “For a long time now I’ve planned what I will say in my first interview as a Heisman Trophy winner. When they ask me how I got to be so great, I’ll tell them, ‘I practiced on my mother!’”

Every child has to practice on his mother, and in a more important way, every mother has to practice on her child. That is God’s way for parent and child to work out their salvation. I mentioned earlier that we all come into the world crying. Considering all the humbling purposes of life, perhaps it is understandable that we will continue to shed a tear or two from time to time. But it helps us to always remember that these are God’s children as well as ours. And above all, it should give us a perfect brightness of hope to know that when we need help we can go through the veil to get it."

Lds endign 1985 

By Persuasion, long suffering, meekness and love

"Persuasion and the Gospel

We recognize that the greatest power on our planet—the power to act in the name of God, or the priesthood—can be “handled only upon the principles of righteousness” (D&C 121:36). This concept is part of what President Dieter F. Uchtdorf recently referred to as the “owner’s manual” of the priesthood (“Your Potential, Your Privilege,” Ensign, May 2011, 59) and what President Heber J. Grant noted to be one of his most oft-quoted verses from the Doctrine and Covenants:

No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned;

By kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile. [D&C 121:41–42; see Heber J. Grant, CR, October 1923, 159]

Why are these principles of power and influence included together? What does it say about persuasion, long-suffering, meekness, and love, among other virtues, that makes them essential? And how can they be applied in the myriad of social interactions we have as lifelong learners and disciples?

Early in the Book of Mormon, Lehi had a dream in which his family was commanded to obtain critical records on plates of brass. The only problem was that these records were located somewhere other than where his family was, and it meant doing something that several of his sons weren’t planning on nor were enthused about doing—namely, going back.

Lacking agreement, after “consult[ing] one with another” (1 Nephi 3:10), the sons made the decision on who would face Laban by casting lots. Laman was chosen to head back to Jerusalem. He subsequently failed to get the plates and returned to tell his brothers the bad news.

At this point the brothers were finished, but Nephi wasn’t willing to give up just yet. He gave them a charge:

As the Lord liveth, and as we live, we will not go down unto our father in the wilderness until we have accomplished the thing which the Lord hath commanded us. [1 Nephi 3:15]

His directive was followed by a series of reasons including the need to be faithful, the context of Jerusalem’s wickedness and its imminent destruction, and the key role of the records for linguistic and spiritual continuity. His plea worked.

And it came to pass that after this manner of language did I persuade my brethren, that they might be faithful in keeping the commandments of God. [1 Nephi 3:21]

In this case Nephi persuaded his brothers to do what they should have already understood was the right thing to do—to go and try again to get the plates. But just like us, they needed to be engaged in a conversation, to be reminded and persuaded. It is interesting to note that for some reason the brothers didn’t have a hard time returning once more to Jerusalem to persuade Ishmael and his daughters to join them in the wilderness.

Later on we see how their attitude changed when they lost their commitment to their father’s vision and escalated to violence against their little brother. At that point their choices were mitigated by an angel; but Nephi’s efforts throughout illustrate the process of persuasion and show how dialogue played an important part in Nephi’s relationship to his family and his commitment to truth.

"Persuasion is widely perceived as a skill reserved for selling products and closing deals. It is also commonly seen as just another form of manipulation—devious and to be avoided. Certainly, persuasion can be used in selling and deal-clinching situations, and it can be misused to manipulate people. But exercised constructively and to its full potential, persuasion supersedes sales and is quite the opposite of deception. Effective persuasion becomes a negotiating and learning process through which a persuader leads colleagues to a problem’s shared solution.Persuasion does indeed involve moving people to a position they don’t currently hold, but not by begging or cajoling. Instead, it involves careful preparation, the proper framing of arguments, the presentation of vivid supporting evidence, and the effort to find the correct emotional match with your audience. [Jay A. Conger, “The Necessary Art of Persuasion,” Harvard Business Review, May–June 1998, 86; emphasis added]

Indeed, we know that persuasion is a theme that cuts across many different academic and professional fields. In an even larger sense, persuasion is at the core of the learning process because it changes the way we perceive and understand reality, influencing our attitudes and creating our vision of the world.

Learning involves active engagement in introducing, evaluating, and deciding what ideas have merit and what do not. As a proud graduate of this institution, I feel that one of my formative learning experiences occurred in honors courses where Dean Hal Miller took us into a world of new “conversations” where we could engage in a discussion with some of the greatest minds and on important topics in the world of ideas. We wrestled with Plato, plumbed the Bhagavad Gita, pondered St. Augustine, and wrote alongside Montaigne. Our job as students was to read, question, and determine what was persuasive and what was not. More often than not we missed the point; yet Dr. Miller carefully and patiently explained and answered questions as we stumbled along the path of learning.

As Latter-day Saints, our spiritual foundation influences all aspects of our learning, professions, and family life. Also, experiencing give-and-take and intellectual back-and-forth helps us to increase our understanding and ideally make better decisions, as Hugh Nibley explained in a talk given to Pi Sigma Alpha, the political science honor society:

A discussion with God is not a case of agreeing or disagreeing with Him—who is in a position to do that?—but of understanding Him. What Abraham and Ezra and Enoch asked was, “Why?” Socrates showed that teaching is a dialogue, a discussion. As long as the learner is in the dark he should protest and argue and question, for that is the best way to bring problems into focus, while the teacher patiently and cheerfully explains, delighted that his pupil has enough interest and understanding to raise questions—the more passionate, the more promising. There is a place for discussion and participation in the government of the kingdom. [“Beyond Politics,” Nibley on the Timely and the Timeless, 2nd ed. (Provo: Religious Studies Center, Brigham Young University, 2004), 306; emphasis in original]

But persuasion is merely a tool, and instruments can be used for differing moral purposes (see Moroni 7:17). Thus it seems essential that section 121 of the Doctrine and Covenants places persuasion in close quarters with at least three qualities previously introduced: namely, meekness, long-suffering, and love. These virtues can modify and direct our persuasive efforts, especially as we interact in a world filled with conflict, strife, and disagreement. Let’s consider each virtue separately as we try to understand how they relate to our efforts in persuasion.

Long-Suffering

Defined, long-suffering means “an enduring disposition” or “having endured mental or physical discomfort for a protracted period of time patiently or without complaint.” It might seem a stretch to our modern world, but if we hope to persuade others, we must listen to their concerns and create a space for others to engage in conversation, just as Nephi did with his siblings.

Orson Scott Card, an LDS author and frequent columnist, recently observed the following:

Even within our country, some Latter-day Saints will strongly disagree with others about the actions of our government. Because I have written extensively on political matters, I have received many letters from Saints who disagree with me, asking, “How can you hold that opinion and still be a faithful Latter-day Saint?” (Of course, some of the letters are not so politely worded.)

I get such letters about equally from the left and the right, and about almost every topic I’ve covered. . . .

But the point of freedom is that we should not assume that people who disagree with us are unworthy of full membership in our community, or that their voices should not be heard.

On the contrary, it is essential that all voices be heard in order to reach wise decisions that take into account the needs and judgments of all people. [In the Village, “No Nation Is Devoid of Error,” MormonTimes.com, 2 July 2009; emphasis in original]

Students are especially adept at and enjoy new opportunities in social media, in which an incredibly wide range of viewpoints, ideas, and arguments resides. On occasion I have watched with horror as my Facebook page became the staging ground for battles of opposing views mirroring many newspaper discussion boards, sports websites, blogs, and anywhere else that open (and especially anonymous) interaction is allowed. My students tell me that it’s appropriate to delete or censor my online “friends,” but I secretly hope that their inner angels will help these commenters regain a sense of decorum, if not a measure of kindness.

Henry David Thoreau wrote, “Thaw with his gentle persuasion is more powerful than Thor with his hammer. The one melts, the other but breaks in pieces” (Walden [1854], 17, Spring). And yet it seems that some of my “friends” would rather be Nordic superheroes than forces of nature. That’s because the language and tone of many comments online preclude a conversation. Discussions can become less about respecting or enduring other views and more about making our point heard.

These discussion enders may be insensitive responses, but as part of communities—especially learning communities—they become deal breakers that replace dialogue with an awkward silence at best and “sharpness” at worst, usually without the “increase of love” we are advised to employ afterward (D&C 121:43). More important, they demonstrate a lack of long-suffering in our demeanor because we don’t want to have to listen to something that doesn’t fit our thinking. We recognize that not all ideas are equal or even correct—that is why we need to learn. But being long-suffering increases our chances of gaining understanding, and it keeps us connected to those in the discussion.

Clearly this is a very small part of being long-suffering, as many with greater trials can attest. But this important virtue may give us resolve to find ways to stay connected, to be patient, and to try and better understand others.

Meekness

Meekness is another virtue recommended to us, and, like the others, it is a subject matter unto itself. We know that personal growth occurs best when we submit to God’s will, but as President Ezra Taft Benson taught, “Either we can choose to be humble or we can be compelled to be humble” (“Beware of Pride,” Ensign, May 1989, 6). One way that we can immediately experience our limitations is through cross-cultural interactions on our smaller, more globalized world.

Cultural differences are rarely more apparent than when we experience another place firsthand. Last year our family traveled across Europe, and while contending with different food, language, and environments—mostly in large, urban cities—our eight-year-old son Jack concluded, “In Turkey they don’t seem to understand our personal space or our family bubble.” In fact, he and his younger brother were regularly pinched, patted, observed, and remarked upon, and he wasn’t really prepared for all of that attention. Buses were crowded, unlike the one he’s used to riding. City streets were filled with a myriad of smells, sights, and sounds that were unfamiliar and even frightening at times. Many things seemed so very different to us—from electric plugs to the experience of worshipping with sixty members of the Church in a city of 13 million people.

In these instances we can withdraw, retreat, or even become outright defensive. We can also fail to see what is happening before us. But when we approach these new cultural adventures with meekness and humility, we can begin to understand our limitations in new ways. In a letter to Edward Partridge and the Church, Joseph Smith wrote from Liberty Jail:

We ought always to be aware of those prejudices which sometimes so strangely present themselves, and are so congenial to human nature, against our friends, neighbors, and brethren of the world, who choose to differ from us in opinion and in matters of faith. Our religion is between us and our God. Their religion is between them and their God. [HC 3:303–4]

Elder Neal A. Maxwell, nearly thirty years ago, addressed this topic here at Brigham Young University, noting:

In the ecology of the eternal attributes these cardinal characteristics are inextricably bound up together. Among them, meekness is often the initiator, the facilitator, and the consolidator.

He further explains the link to persuasion this way:

Since God desired to have us become like Himself, He first had to make us free, to learn, to choose, and to experience; hence our humility and teachability are premiere determinants of our progress and our happiness. Agency is essential to perfectibility, and meekness is essential to the wise use of agency—and to our recovery when we have misused our agency. . . .

In contrast, we see in ourselves, brothers and sisters, the unnecessary multiplication of words—not only a lack of clarity, but vanity. Our verbosity is often a cover for insincerity or uncertainty. Meekness, the subtraction of self, reduces the multiplication of words.

Without meekness, the conversational point we insist on making often takes the form of I, that spearlike, vertical pronoun. Meekness, however, is more than self-restraint; it is the presentation of self in a posture of kindness and gentleness. It reflects certitude, strength, serenity; it reflects a healthy self-esteem and a genuine self-control. [“Meekly Drenched in Destiny,” BYU fireside address, 5 September 1982; emphasis in original]

Love

Finally, an über-virtue that guides our persuasion efforts is real love. This may well be the hardest part of a gospel approach, because it is so easy for us to become enamored with our own ideas, accomplishments, and interests. It’s also quite difficult to love at close range when our family, friends, or colleagues don’t appreciate our efforts. And it’s even harder still when we face down our real or perceived enemies.

For over five years I attended a number of United Nations conferences in New York, Nairobi, Geneva, and elsewhere in which I was involved in lengthy negotiations with countries and groups that had opposing views on a number of policy issues. This competition of ideas—common to the sports arena, courtroom, and marketplace, or among the electorate—often led to zero-sum outcomes through long negotiation. Try as we might to break through and find common ground, discussions were difficult, and both sides were regularly frustrated. Some of these differences were structural, but I was struck by the degree to which our opposing sides displayed personal animosity and even open hostility.

We occasionally had hard-won victories at the expense of the other side. The lack of empathy was readily apparent, and in some ways understandable. Since then I have often thought about these experiences and what was to be learned.

Recently, someone who has been involved in these very issues was interviewed. In talking about how to address these types of intractable conflicts, she said that as a result of thinking about them over a long period of time, she recognized the need for and advocated a type of sportsmanship that seems to me to be an essential part of a Christian approach in such areas:

The need to approach others with enthusiasm for difference is absolutely critical to any change. You know . . . I’m the toughest of fighters. And you know I love a good fight. And I love to win. But I think what I have learned is that you have got to approach differences with this notion that there is good in the other. And that if we can’t figure out how to do that and if there isn’t the crack in the middle where there are some people on both sides who absolutely refuse to see the other as evil, this is going to continue. [“Listening Beyond Life and Choice,” radio interview with Frances Kissling, Being, 20 January 2011; Krista Tippett, host; http://being.publicradio.org/programs/2011/listening-beyond/transcript.shtml]

How do we meekly, patiently, and lovingly engage with others, especially when the stakes are the highest? For me this gospel ideal of love warrants our serious consideration. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf observed:

We must realize that all of God’s children wear the same jersey. Our team is the brotherhood of man. This mortal life is our playing field. Our goal is to learn to love God and to extend that same love toward our fellowman. We are here to live according to His law and establish the kingdom of God. We are here to build, uplift, treat fairly, and encourage all of Heavenly Father’s children. [“Pride and the Priesthood,” Ensign, November 2010, 56]

There will always be times when we must take a stand for what is right. But I believe that we can try to do so in a loving and genuine manner, avoiding ad hominem and mean-spirited attacks. I recognize that possessing love unfeigned is extremely challenging, but I have seen examples throughout my life from my parents, wife, colleagues, and students that give me hope.

Changing Minds and Hearts

Recently, the filmmaker Sidney Lumet passed away. He was known for a remarkable film titled 12 Angry Men, which portrays the compelling transformation of wide-ranging attitudes in a short period of time. In the film a young man of low social status has been accused of murdering his father. As the title suggests, twelve jurors are chosen to deliberate his fate, and they bring with them lifetimes of experience, pain, and perspective.

The entire 1957 film version takes place in one room and occurs in real time. Initially it appears to be an open-and-shut trial. But one lone juror—Juror #8, played by Henry Fonda— quietly voices his dissenting opinion. He does so through the first part of the film by listening quietly, thoughtfully assessing each juror’s view, and asking probing questions.

As the film progresses, it becomes clear that he is beginning to persuade other jurors, one by one, but the way in which he does it still surprises me. Through continued engagement with the other men—including the one last holdout juror—and a great deal of silence and discussion, Juror #8 eventually persuades all eleven to the “not guilty” conclusion.

Ultimately, it may be more important how we are persuaded rather than how we persuade. For, while changing our mind is important in learning, the opening of our hearts is critical to our salvation. The scriptures teach that we may know truth and that we may be persuaded “to do good” and to “believe in Christ” through the power of the Spirit (Moroni 7:16; see Ether 4:11–12). Opening our hearts can lead to the greatest blessings.

In the hymn “That Easter Morn,” we sing that Christ overcame “pain,” He overcame “death,” and He can help us overcome “fear” (Hymns, 1985, no. 198). Perhaps it is fear that limits much of our ability to listen, learn, persuade—and be persuaded—by others and by the Holy Spirit of God.

I am grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ that gives us a restart in our frequent frailties and pray that we may be better able to enjoy the full range of discourse and discussion as Christians in the broader world around us, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

http://speeches.byu.edu/?act=viewitem&id=1948

 

The blessings of the Temple

The following is taken from a talk by Elder Richard Scott explaining how Temple Covenants help him deal with the death of some of his infant children and the death of his wife.  Bless him for sharing such a intimate part of his life story with us.  It is very inspiring to read of his absolute trust and faith in Gods plan for him and his family.

"Now I would like to speak of the special meaning the temple has for me. Part of this message is going to be sensitive, so I will appreciate your prayers as I give it so that I do not become too emotional.

Fourteen years ago the Lord took my wife beyond the veil. I love her with all my heart, but I have never complained because I know it was His will. I have never asked why but rather what is it that He wants me to learn from this experience. I believe that is a good way to face the unpleasant things in our lives, not complaining but thanking the Lord for the trust He places in us when He gives us the opportunity to overcome difficulties.

We had the blessing of having children. A daughter, the first child, continues to be an enormous blessing in our lives. A couple of years later a son we named Richard was born. A few years later a daughter was born. She died after living only a few minutes.

Our son, Richard, was born with a heart defect. We were told that unless that could be cured, there was little probability that he would live more than two or three years. This was so long ago that techniques now used to repair such defects were unknown. We had the blessing of having a place where doctors agreed to attempt to perform the needed surgery. The surgery had to be done while his little heart was beating.

The surgery was performed just six weeks after the birth and death of our baby daughter. When the operation finished, the principal surgeon came in and said it was a success. And we thought, “How wonderful! Our son will have a strong body, be able to run and walk and grow!” We expressed deep gratitude to the Lord. Then about 10 minutes later, the same doctor came in with an ashen face and told us, “Your son has died.” Apparently the shock of the operation was more than his little body could endure.

Later, during the night, I embraced my wife and said to her, “We do not need to worry, because our children were born in the covenant. We have the assurance that we will have them with us in the future. Now we have a reason to live extremely well. We have a son and a daughter who have qualified to go to the celestial kingdom because they died before the age of eight.” That knowledge has given us great comfort. We rejoice in the knowledge that all seven of our children are sealed to us for time and all eternity.

That trial has not been a problem for either of us because, when we live righteously and have received the ordinances of the temple, everything else is in the hands of the Lord. We can do the best we can, but the final outcome is up to Him. We should never complain, when we are living worthily, about what happens in our lives.

Fourteen years ago the Lord decided it was not necessary for my wife to live any longer on the earth, and He took her to the other side of the veil. I confess that there are times when it is difficult not to be able to turn and talk to her, but I do not complain. The Lord has allowed me, at important moments in my life, to feel her influence through the veil.

What I am trying to teach is that when we keep the temple covenants we have made and when we live righteously in order to maintain the blessings promised by those ordinances, then come what may, we have no reason to worry or to feel despondent.

I know that I will have the privilege of being with that beautiful wife, whom I love with all my heart, and with those children who are with her on the other side of the veil because of the ordinances that are performed in the temple. What a blessing to have once again on the earth the sealing authority, not only for this mortal life but for the eternities. I am grateful that the Lord has restored His gospel in its fulness, including the ordinances that are required for us to be happy in the world and to live everlastingly happy lives in the hereafter.

This is the work of the Lord. Jesus Christ lives. This is His Church. I am a witness of Him and of His Atonement, which is the foundation that makes effective and lasting every ordinance performed in the temples. I so testify with every capacity I possess, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2009/04/temple-worship-the-source-of-strength-and-power-in-times-of-need?lang=eng

Choose the Good Part - A Christ Centered Life

Just a few quotes from the April 1984 talk - Choose a the Good Part

Making Comparisons....

"Some mothers seem to have the capacity and energy to make their children’s clothes, bake, give piano lessons, go to Relief Society, teach Sunday School, attend parent-teacher association meetings, and so on. Other mothers look upon such women as models and feel inadequate, depressed, and think they are failures when they make comparisons.

We should not allow ourselves to be trapped into such damaging inferiority feelings. This is another tool of Satan. Many seem to put too much pressure on themselves to be a “supermom” or “superwoman.”

Sisters, do not allow yourselves to be made to feel inadequate or frustrated because you cannot do everything others seem to be accomplishing. Rather, each should assess her own situation, her own energy, and her own talents, and then choose the best way to mold her family into a team, a unit that works together and supports each other. Only you and your Father in Heaven know your needs, strengths, and desires. Around this knowledge your personal course must be charted and your choices made."

Happiness

"We must constantly remember it is not our situation or problems that make us unhappy; it is our failure to properly resolve them.

Someone has said that happiness is like a butterfly. The more you chase it, the more it will elude you. But if you turn your attention to other things, it comes and sits softly on your shoulder. (See Nathaniel Hawthorne, quoted in Reader’s Digest, Apr. 1982, p. 148.)"

Positive Self Image 

"Make a decision as to the kind of person you want to be regardless of external circumstances. The first challenge in life is to learn, accept, and internalize “Who am I?” If this question is researched carefully in the scriptures and in Church teachings, the importance of each and every soul will be verified. A good self-image is one of the most important and necessary steps in facing life. So often we believe about ourselves only the things that others have implanted. There is no woman in or out of the Church who is not a loved child of God—no one!

In Psalms 8:4–5 we read:

“What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?

“For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.” [Ps. 8:4–5]

But Satan is ever present, trying to destroy our glory and remove our crown. One of his most powerful tools is discouragement. Single sisters, don’t let your discouragement make Satan rejoice.

Sometimes singles are inclined to become wrapped up in themselves rather than searching for a way to affect the future. Become success oriented. Know that you can succeed. Believe that you can succeed. Step into auxiliary organizations of the Church and into community organizations and make your presence felt."

Goal setting 

"Set your goals—without goals you cannot measure your progress. But don’t become frustrated because there are no obvious victories. Remind yourself that striving can be more important than arriving. If you are striving for excellence—if you are trying your best day by day with the wisest use of your time and energy to reach realistic goals—you are a success.

Commune daily with your Heavenly Father who knows you best of all. He knows your talents, your strengths, and your weaknesses. You are here on the earth at this time to develop and refine these characteristics. I promise you He will help you. He is aware of your needs. He is aware of your unanswered prayers." 

Only upon the principals of righteousness - gc 2012 - Elder Larry Y. Wilson

I have been learning a lot from doctrine and covenants 121:34-46 and especially this part, that when we " exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority's that Man"

This really is fantastic advice for parents as it is always very tempting to try and control and force children's decisions- feeling that it is the best for them.  However this talk makes it clear that there is a very negative long term effect this kind of compulsion can have over our children- " ompulsion builds resentment. It conveys mistrust, and it makes people feel incompetent."  As Jospeh Smith so wisely said we should "teach them correct principals and let them govern themselves".

Only upon the Principles of Righteousness

By Elder Larry Y. Wilson

Of the Seventy

Wise parents prepare their children to get along without them. They provide opportunities for growth as children acquire the spiritual maturity to exercise their agency properly.

A month or so after we were married, my wife and I were taking a long road trip in the car. She was driving, and I was trying to relax. I say trying because the highway we were traveling had a reputation for speed traps, and my wife might have had a slight tendency toward a lead foot in those days. I said, “You’re going too fast. Slow down.”

My new bride thought to herself, “Well, I’ve been driving for nearly 10 years, and other than my driver’s education teacher, no one ever told me how to drive before.” So she replied, “What gives you the right to tell me how to drive?”

Frankly, her question caught me off guard. So, doing my best to step up to my new responsibilities as a married man, I said, “I don’t know—because I’m your husband and I hold the priesthood.”

Brethren, just a quick tip: if you are ever in a similar situation, that is not the right response. And I’m happy to report, it was the one and only time I ever made that mistake.

The Doctrine and Covenants explains that the right to use the priesthood in the home or elsewhere is directly connected with righteousness in our lives: “The powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness.”¹ It goes on to say that we lose that power when we “exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of [others], in any degree of unrighteousness.”²

This scripture says we must lead by “principles of righteousness.” Such principles apply to all leaders in the Church as well as to all fathers and mothers in their homes.³ We lose our right to the Lord’s Spirit and to whatever authority we have from God when we exercise control over another person in an unrighteous manner.⁴ We may think such methods are for the good of the one being “controlled.” But anytime we try to compel someone to righteousness who can and should be exercising his or her own moral agency, we are acting unrighteously. When setting firm limits for another person is in order, those limits should always be administered with loving patience and in a way that teaches eternal principles.

We simply cannot force others to do the right thing. The scriptures make it clear that this is not God’s way. Compulsion builds resentment. It conveys mistrust, and it makes people feel incompetent. Learning opportunities are lost when controlling persons pridefully assume they have all the right answers for others. The scriptures say that “it is the nature and disposition of almost all men” to engage in this “unrighteous dominion,”⁵ so we should be aware that it’s an easy trap to fall into. Women too may exercise unrighteous dominion, though the scriptures identify the problem especially with men.

Unrighteous dominion is often accompanied by constant criticism and the withholding of approval or love. Those on the receiving end feel they can never please such leaders or parents and that they always fall short. Wise parents must weigh when children are ready to begin exercising their own agency in a particular area of their lives. But if parents hold on to all decision-making power and see it as their “right,” they severely limit the growth and development of their children.

Our children are in our homes for a limited time. If we wait until they walk out the door to turn over to them the reins of their moral agency, we have waited too long. They will not suddenly develop the ability to make wise decisions if they have never been free to make any important decisions while in our homes. Such children often either rebel against this compulsion or are crippled by an inability to make any decisions on their own.

Wise parents prepare their children to get along without them. They provide opportunities for growth as children acquire the spiritual maturity to exercise their agency properly. And yes, this means children will sometimes make mistakes and learn from them.

Our family had an experience that taught us about helping children develop their ability to make choices. Our daughter Mary was a standout soccer player growing up. One year her team made it to the championships and, wouldn’t you know it, that game was to be played on a Sunday. As a young teen, Mary had had years of teaching that the Sabbath was a day of rest and spiritual regeneration, not recreation. But she still felt pressure from her coaches and teammates to play, as well as a desire not to let her team down.

She asked us what she should do. My wife and I could easily have made this decision for her. However, we decided after prayerful consideration that in this case our daughter was ready to take spiritual responsibility for her own decision. We read some scriptures with her and encouraged Mary to pray and think about it.

After a few days she announced her decision. She would play the game on Sunday. Now what were we to do? After further discussion and receiving reassurance from the Spirit, we did as we had promised and permitted her to carry out her choice to play. After the game ended, Mary slowly walked over to her waiting mother. “Oh, Mom,” she said, “that felt awful. I never want to feel like that again. I’m never playing another game on the Sabbath day.” And she never did.

Mary had now internalized the principle of Sabbath keeping. If we had forced her not to play the game, we would have deprived her of a precious and powerful learning experience with the Spirit.

As you can see, helping children exercise their agency properly requires teaching them how to pray and receive answers to their prayers. There must also be teaching about the value and purpose of obedience as well as about all other essential principles of the gospel.⁶

In raising our family, we decided that our most important goal would be to help our children establish their own connection to heaven. We knew that ultimately they would need to depend on the Lord, not on us. Brigham Young said, “Were I to draw a distinction in all the duties that are required of the children of men, … I would place first and foremost the duty of seeking unto the Lord our God until we open the path of communication from heaven to earth—from God to our own souls.”⁷

Mary had received answers to her prayers in other, earlier situations, and so we trusted that our daughter was developing this path of communication with heaven in her life. Thus she learned something positive from her experience and was equipped to make better choices in the future. Without a link to the Spirit, children and parents alike would be able to rationalize all sorts of poor decisions in the name of exercising their agency. The promise of scripture is that “they that are wise … and have taken the Holy Spirit for their guide [are not] deceived.”⁸

An additional and tragic side effect of unrighteous dominion can be a loss of trust in God’s love. I have known some people who were subject to demanding and controlling leaders or parents, and they have found it hard to feel the very love from their Heavenly Father that would sustain them and motivate them along the path of righteousness.

If we are going to help those in our stewardships make the all-important link with heaven, we must be the kind of parent and leader described in Doctrine and Covenants, section 121. We must act “only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned.”⁹ President Henry B. Eyring has said, “Of all the help we can give … young people, the greatest will be to let them feel our confidence that they are on the path home to God and that they can make it.”¹⁰

As we consider the principles that should guide us in the Church and at home, let me close with an illustration from the biography of President Thomas S. Monson. Ann Dibb, the Monsons’ daughter, says that to this day, when she walks in the front door of the house where she was raised, her father will say, “Oh, look who’s here. And aren’t we glad, and isn’t she beautiful?” She goes on to say: “My parents always give me some compliment; it doesn’t matter what I look like or what I’ve been doing. … When I go and visit my parents, I know I am loved, I am complimented, I am made welcome, I am home.”¹¹

Brothers and sisters, this is the Lord’s way. Even if you’ve been mistreated in the past, I know the Lord wants you to come unto Him.¹² All are loved. All are welcomed. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

1.  

   1.  Doctrine and Covenants 121:36.

   
   

Come Onto Christ

Trust in God is imperative to our personal happiness and contentment in life.  I love how Ellder Holland describes how hurt he would be as a loving Father if his children dod not trust in his help or his concern for their wel being.  Some things we may not understand now but we can be certain that God has our best intentions at heart.  This trust between me and Heavenly Father, in that He will guide and direct me with my family is imperative for just as President Monson said:.  God and a mother, are two sacred persons; partners in creation, in love, in sacrifice, in service are one (President Monson) 

Come Onto Christ - Elder Jeffrey R. holland 

"“This is the way,” Nephi said—there is that word again—“and there is none other way . . . whereby man [or woman] can be saved in the kingdom of God” (2 Nephi 31:20–21).

This reliance upon the forgiving, long-suffering, merciful nature of God was taught from before the very foundation of the world. It was always to give us hope and help, a reason to progress and improve, an incentive to lay down our burdens and take up our salvation. May I be bold enough to suggest that it is impossible for anyone who really knows God to doubt his willingness to receive us with open arms in a divine embrace if we will but “come unto him.” There certainly can and will be plenty of external difficulties in life. Nevertheless the soul that comes unto Christ dwells within a personal fortress, a veritable palace of perfect peace. “Whoso hearkeneth unto me,” Jehovah says, “shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from fear of evil” (Proverbs 1:33).

That is exactly what Paul said to the Corinthians. Trying to help them keep their chin up—and the Corinthians had a lot to be grim about—he wrote:

Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort;

Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. [2 Corinthians 1:3–4]

Jesus taught the same thing to the Nephites, who also lived in a difficult world. “For the mountains shall depart and the hills be removed,” he said, “but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed [from thee]” (3 Nephi 22:10; see also verses 13–14). I love that. The hills and the mountains may disappear. The seas and oceans may dry up completely. The least likely things in the world may happen, but “my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed [from thee]” (emphasis added). After all, he has, he reminds us, “graven thee upon the palms of my hands” (1 Nephi 21:16). Considering the incomprehensible cost of the Crucifixion, Christ is not going to turn his back on us now.

Peace to Our Souls

The Lord has probably spoken enough such “comforting words” to supply the whole universe, it would seem, and yet we see all around us unhappy Latter-day Saints, worried Latter-day Saints, and gloomy Latter-day Saints into whose troubled hearts not one of these innumerable consoling words seems to be allowed to enter. In fact, I think some of us must have that remnant of Puritan heritage still with us that says it is somehow wrong to be comforted or helped, that we are supposed to be miserable about something.

Consider, for example, the Savior’s benediction upon his disciples even as he moved toward the pain and agony of Gethsemane and Calvary. On that very night, the night of the greatest suffering the world has ever known or ever will know, he said, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. . . . Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).

I submit to you that may be one of the Savior’s commandments that is, even in the hearts of otherwise faithful Latter-day Saints, almost universally disobeyed; and yet I wonder whether our resistance to this invitation could be any more grievous to the Lord’s merciful heart. I can tell you this as a parent: As concerned as I would be if somewhere in their lives one of my children were seriously troubled or unhappy or disobedient, nevertheless I would be infinitely more devastated if I felt that at such a time that child could not trust me to help, or should feel his or her interest were unimportant to me or unsafe in my care. In that same spirit, I am convinced that none of us can appreciate how deeply it wounds the loving heart of the Savior of the world when he finds that his people do not feel confident in his care or secure in his hands or trust in his commandments.

Just because God is God, just because Christ is Christ, they cannot do other than care for us and bless us and help us if we will but come unto them, approaching their throne of grace in meekness and lowliness of heart. They can’t help but bless us. They have to. It is their nature. That is why Joseph Smith gave those lectures on faith, so we would understand the nature of godliness and in the process have enough confidence to come unto Christ and find peace to our souls. There is not a single loophole or curveball or open trench to fall into for the man or woman who walks the path that Christ walks. When he says, “Come, follow me” (Luke 18:22), he means that he knows where the quicksand is and where the thorns are and the best way to handle the slippery slope near the summit of our personal mountains. He knows it all, and he knows the way. He is the way.

Listen to this wonderful passage from President George Q. Cannon teaching precisely this very doctrine:

No matter how serious the trial, how deep the distress, how great the affliction, [God] will never desert us. He never has, and He never will. He cannot do it. It is not His character [to do so]. He is an unchangeable being; the same yesterday, the same today, and He will be the same throughout the eternal ages to come. We have found that God. We have made Him our friend, by obeying His Gospel; and He will stand by us. We may pass through the fiery furnace; we may pass through deep waters; but we shall not be consumed nor overwhelmed. We shall emerge from all these trials and difficulties the better and purer for them, if we only trust in our God and keep His commandments. [“Freedom of the Saints,” in Collected Discourses, comp. and ed. Brian H. Stuy, 5 vols. (Burbank, California: B.H.S. Publishing, 1987–92), 2:185; emphasis added]

Once we have come unto Christ and found the miracle of his “covenant of peace,” I think we are under obligation to help others do so, just as Paul said in that verse to the Corinthians—to live as much like he lived as we possibly can and to do as much of what he did in order that others may walk in this same peace and have this same reassurance....

Christ Watches over Us

One last piece of counsel regarding coming to Christ. It comes from an unusual incident in the life of the Savior that holds a lesson for us all. It was after Jesus had performed the miracle of feeding the five thousand from five loaves of bread and two fishes. (By the way, let me pause here to say, Don’t worry about Christ running out of ability to help you. His grace is sufficient. That is the spiritual, eternal lesson of the feeding of the five thousand.) After Jesus had fed the multitude, he sent them away and put his disciples into a fishing boat to cross over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. He then “went up into a mountain apart to pray” (Matthew 14:23).

We aren’t told all of the circumstances of the disciples as they set out in their boat, but it was toward evening, and certainly it was a night of storm. The winds must have been ferocious from the start. Because of the winds, these men probably never even raised the sails but labored only with the oars—and labor it would have been. We know this because by the time of “the fourth watch of the night” (Matthew 14:25)—that is somewhere between three and six in the morning—they had gone only a few miles. By then the ship was caught up in a truly violent storm, a storm like those that can still sweep down on the Sea of Galilee to this day.

But, as always, Christ was watching over them. He always does, remember? Seeing their difficulty, the Savior simply took the most direct approach to their boat, striding out across the waves to help them, walking on the water as surely as he had walked upon the land. In their moment of great extremity, the disciples looked and saw in the darkness this wonder in a fluttering robe coming toward them on the ridges of the sea. They cried out in terror at the sight, thinking that it was a phantom upon the waves. Then, through the storm and darkness—when the ocean seems so great and little boats seem so small—there came the ultimate and reassuring voice of peace from their Master. “It is I,” he said, “be not afraid” (verse 27).

This scriptural account reminds us that the first step in coming to Christ—or his coming to us—may fill us with something very much like sheer terror. It shouldn’t, but it sometimes does. One of the grand ironies of the gospel is that the very source of help and safety being offered us is the thing from which we may, in our mortal shortsightedness, flee. For whatever the reason, I have seen investigators run from baptism, I have seen elders run from a mission call, I have seen sweethearts run from marriage, and I have seen young couples run from the fear of families and the future. Too often too many of us run from the very things that will bless us and save us and soothe us. Too often we see gospel commitments and commandments as something to be feared and forsaken.

Let me quote the marvelous James E. Talmage on this matter:

Into every adult human life come experiences like unto the battling of the storm-tossed voyagers with contrary winds and threatening seas; ofttimes the night of struggle and danger is far advanced before succor appears; and then, too frequently the saving aid is mistaken for a greater terror. [But,] as came unto[these disciples] in the midst of the turbulent waters, so comes to all who toil in faith, the voice of the Deliverer—“It is I; be not afraid.” [Jesus the Christ, 3d ed. (Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1916), p. 337]

Brother Talmage used there the word succor. Do you know its meaning? It is used often in the scriptures to describe Christ’s care for and attention to us. It means literally “to run to.” What a magnificent way to describe the Savior’s urgent effort in our behalf. Even as he calls us to come to him and follow him, he is unfailingly running to help us.

Finally recognizing the Master that night, Peter exclaimed, “Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.”

And Christ’s answer to him was as it always is, to all of us: “Come,” he said.

Instantly, as was his nature, Peter sprang over the vessel’s side and into the troubled waves. While his eyes were fixed upon the Lord the wind could toss his hair and the spray could drench his robes, but all was well—he was coming to Christ. Only when his faith and his focus wavered, only when he removed his glance from the Master to see the furious waves and the black gulf beneath him, only then did he begin to sink. In fear he cried out, “Lord, save me” (Matthew 14:28–30).

In some disappointment the “Master of ocean and earth and skies” (see “Master, the Tempest Is Raging,” Hymns, 1985, no. 105) stretched out his hand and grasped the drowning disciple with the gentle rebuke “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” (Matthew 14:31). (See also Frederic W. Farrar, The Life of Christ[Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1994], pp. 310–13.)

Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. This is his true and living Church. He wishes us to come unto him, to follow him, to be comforted by him. Then he wishes us to give comfort to others. However halting our steps are toward him—though they shouldn’t be halting at all—his steps are never halting toward us. May we have enough faith to accept the goodness of God and the mercy of his Only Begotten Son. May we come unto him and his gospel and be healed. And may we do more to heal others in the process. When the storms of life make this difficult, may we still follow his bidding to “come,” keeping our eye fixed on him forever and single to his glory. In doing so we too will walk triumphantly over the swelling waves of life’s difficulties and remain unterrified amid any rising winds of despair.

I pray we will hear this very night that sweet utterance from the Savior of the world: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden. . . . And ye shall find rest unto your souls” (Matthew 11:28–29). “Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid” (Matthew 14:27). I pray this for you and for those you can help, in the sacred name of Jesus Christ. Amen."

http://speeches.byu.edu/index.php?act=viewitem&id=734

The Hands Of The Fathers -Jeffrey R.Holland 1999

a wonderful talk for all parents, especially fathers, out there :) 

"On this Easter weekend I wish to thank not only the resurrected Lord Jesus Christ but also His true Father, our spiritual Father and God, who, by accepting the sacrifice of His firstborn, perfect Son, blessed all of His children in those hours of atonement and redemption. Never more than at Easter time is there so much meaning in that declaration from John the Beloved, which praises the Father as well as the Son: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” ¹

I am a father, inadequate to be sure, but I cannot comprehend the burden it must have been for God in His heaven to witness the deep suffering and Crucifixion of His Beloved Son in such a manner. His every impulse and instinct must have been to stop it, to send angels to intervene—but He did not intervene. He endured what He saw because it was the only way that a saving, vicarious payment could be made for the sins of all His other children from Adam and Eve to the end of the world. I am eternally grateful for a perfect Father and His perfect Son, neither of whom shrank from the bitter cup nor forsook the rest of us who are imperfect, who fall short and stumble, who too often miss the mark.

In considering such beauty of the “at-one-ment” in that first Easter season, we are reminded that this relationship between Christ and His Father is one of the sweetest and most moving themes running through the Savior’s ministry. Jesus’ entire being, His complete purpose and delight, were centered in pleasing His Father and obeying His will. Of Him He seemed always to be thinking; to Him He seemed always to be praying. Unlike us, He needed no crisis, no discouraging shift in events to direct His hopes heavenward. He was already instinctively, longingly looking that way.

In all His mortal ministry Christ seems never to have had a single moment of vanity or self-interest. When one young man tried to call Him “good,” He deflected the compliment, saying only one was deserving of such praise, His Father.

In the early days of His ministry He said humbly, “I can of mine own self do nothing: … I seek not mine own will, but the will of the Father which hath sent me.” ²

Following His teachings, which stunned the audience with their power and authority, He would say: “My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me. … I am not come of myself, but he that sent me is true.” ³ Later he would say again, “I have not spoken of myself; but the Father which sent me, he gave me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should speak.” ⁴

To those who wanted to see the Father, to hear from God directly that Jesus was what He said He was, He answered, “If ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also: … he that hath seen me hath seen the Father.” ⁵When Jesus wanted to preserve unity among His disciples, He prayed using the example of His own relationship with God: “Holy Father, keep through thine own name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, as we are [one].” ⁶

Even as He moved toward the Crucifixion, He restrained His Apostles who would have intervened by saying, “The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?” ⁷ When that unspeakable ordeal was finished, He uttered what must have been the most peaceful and deserved words of His mortal ministry. At the end of His agony, He whispered, “It is finished: … Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.” ⁸ Finally it was over. Finally He could go home.

I confess that I have reflected at length upon that moment and theresurrection which was shortly to follow it. I have wondered what that reunion must have been like: the Father that loved this Son so much, the Son that honored and revered His Father in every word and deed. For two who were one as these two were one, what must that embrace have been like? What must that divine companionship be yet? We can only wonder and admire. And we can, on an Easter weekend, yearn to live worthily of some portion of that relationship ourselves.

As a father, I wonder if I and all other fathers could do more to build a sweeter, stronger relationship with our sons and daughters here on earth. Dads, is it too bold to hope that our children might have some small portion of the feeling for us that the Divine Son felt for His Father? Might we earn more of that love by trying to be more of what God was to His child? In any case, we do know that a young person’s developing concept of God centers on characteristics observed in that child’s earthly parents. ⁹

For that reason and many others, I suppose no book I have read in recent months has alarmed me more than a work entitled Fatherless America. In this study the author speaks of “fatherlessness” as “the most harmful demographic trend of this generation,” the leading cause of damage to children. It is, he is convinced, the engine driving our most urgent social problems, from poverty to crime to adolescent pregnancy to child abuse to domestic violence. Among the principal social issues of our time is the flight of fathers from their children’s lives. ¹⁰

Of even greater concern than the physical absenteeism of some fathers is the spiritually or emotionally absent father. These are fatherly sins of omission that are probably more destructive than sins of commission. Why are we not surprised that when 2,000 children of all ages and backgrounds were asked what they appreciated most about their fathers, they answered universally, “He spends time with me”? ¹¹

A young Laurel I met on a conference assignment not long ago wrote to me after our visit and said, “I wish my dad knew how much I need him spiritually and emotionally. I crave any kind comment, any warm personal gesture. I don’t think he knows how much it would mean to me to have him take an active interest in what is going on in my life, to offer to give me a blessing, or just spend some time together. I know he worries that he won’t do the right thing or won’t say the words well. But just to have him try would mean more than he could ever know. I don’t want to sound ungrateful because I know he loves me. He sent me a note once and signed it ‘Love, Dad.’ I treasure that note. I hold it among my dearest possessions.” ¹²

Well, as with that young woman, I don’t want this talk to sound ungrateful, nor is it meant to make fathers feel they have fallen short. Most fathers are wonderful. Most dads are terrific. I don’t know who wrote these little storybook verses remembered from my youth, but they go something like this:

Only a dad with a tired face,

Coming home from the daily race,

Toiling and striving from day to day,

Facing whatever may come his way,

Glad in his heart that his own rejoice

To see him come home and to hear his voice.

Only a dad, but he gives his all,

Smoothing the way for his children small,

Doing with courage so stern and grim

The deeds that his father did for him.

These are the lines that for him I pen,

Only a dad—but the best of men.

And, brethren, even when we are not “the best of men,” even in our limitations and inadequacy, we can keep making our way in the right direction because of the encouraging teachings set forth by a Divine Father and demonstrated by a Divine Son. With a Heavenly Father’s help we can leave more of a parental legacy than we suppose.

One new father wrote: “Often as I watch my son watch me, I am taken back to moments with my own dad, remembering how vividly I wanted to be just like him. I remember having a plastic razor and my own can of foaming cream, and each morning I would shave when he shaved. I remember following his footsteps back and forth across the grass as he mowed the lawn in summer.

“Now I want my son to follow my lead, and yet it terrifies me to know he probably will. Holding this little boy in my arms, I feel a ‘heavenly homesickness,’ a longing to love the way God loves, to comfort the way He comforts, to protect the way He protects. The answer to all the fears of my youth was always ‘What would Dad do?’ Now that I have a child to raise I am counting on a Heavenly Father to tell me exactly that.” ¹³

A friend from college days wrote to me recently, saying: “Much in my chaotic childhood was uncertain, but one thing I knew for sure: that my dad loved me. That certainty was the anchor of my young life. I came to know and love the Lord because my father loved him. I have never called anyone a fool or taken the Lord’s name in vain because he told me the Bible said I shouldn’t. I have always paid my tithing because he taught me it was a privilege to do so. I have always tried to take responsibility for my mistakes because my father did. Even though he was estranged from the Church for a [time], at the end of his life he served a mission and worked faithfully in the temple. In his will he said that any money left over from taking care of his [family] should go to the Church. He loved the Church with all of his heart. And because of him, so do I.” ¹⁴

Surely that must be the spiritual application of Lord Byron’s couplet: “Yet in my lineaments they trace / Some features of my father’s face.” ¹⁵

At a vulnerable moment in young Nephi’s life, his prophetic future was determined when he said, “I did believe all the words which had been spoken by my father.” ¹⁶ At the turning point of the prophet Enos’s life, he said it was “the words which I had often heard my father speak” ¹⁷ which prompted one of the great revelations recorded in the Book of Mormon. And sorrowing Alma the Younger, when confronted by the excruciating memory of his sins, “remembered also to have heard [his] father prophesy … concerning the coming of … Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the sins of the world.” ¹⁸That brief memory, that personal testimony offered by his father at a time when the father may have felt nothing was sinking in, not only saved the spiritual life of this, his son, but changed forever the history of the Book of Mormon people.

Of Abraham, the grand patriarch, God said, “I know him, … he will command his children and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord.” ¹⁹

I bear my witness this Easter weekend that “great things [will] be required at the hand[s] of [the] fathers,” as the Lord declared to the Prophet Joseph Smith. ²⁰ Surely the greatest of those things will be to have done all they could for the happiness and spiritual safety of the children they are to nurture.

In that most burdensome moment of all human history, with blood appearing at every pore and an anguished cry upon His lips, Christ sought Him whom He had always sought—His Father. “Abba,” He cried, “Papa,” or from the lips of a younger child, “Daddy.” ²¹

This is such a personal moment it almost seems a sacrilege to cite it. A Son in unrelieved pain, a Father His only true source of strength, both of them staying the course, making it through the night—together.

Fathers, this Easter weekend may we be renewed in our task as parents, bolstered by images of this Father and this Son as we embrace our children and stand with them forever, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."