Time, Food, or Money!

31 Dec 2018

Now that we are on a 2nd mission…. We see both missions in comparison.    When people hear that we were in Cambodia for 22 months the first question is always…. “how was that?”   I always respond with “It was a WOW every day!  Not always a good WOW but nonetheless, a WOW”

The Salt Lake City Headquarters Mission has proven to be very different.  There have been no language barriers, no shock value on the streets nor any cultural challenges.   Although there are still beggars but they stay on the sidewalks and are never in the middle of the street.  The beggars here seem to be seasonal, evidently, it is too cold to beg during the winter months. 

The Salt Lake City Headquarters Mission as proved to be more of a subdued “ah-ha!”  We get to see the Church up close and personal.   One thing that impresses me the most is that we get to hear about the sacrifices that people make to be here.  It has caused me to look at and evaluate sacrifice.   What HAVE I sacrificed, what DO I sacrifice, and what am I WILLING to sacrifice?  

Recently in an MTC Devotional by Elder David Bednar he quoted C.S. Lewis from the book Mere Christianity.  It is Mr. Lewis’ thoughts on what God would beg from each of us, 

 “Give me all of you!!!   I don’t want so much of your time, so much of your talents and money, and so much of your work. I want YOU!!! ALL OF YOU!! I have not come to torment or frustrate the natural man or woman, but to KILL IT!  No half measures will do.  I don’t want to only prune a branch here and a branch there; rather I want the whole tree out! Hand it over to me, the whole outfit, all of your desires, all of your wants and wishes and dreams. Turn them ALL over to me, give yourself to me and I will make of you a new self---in my image.  Give me yourself and in exchange I will give you Myself.  My will, shall become your will.  My heart, shall become your heart.”     

                

How much more would I need to give to reach that level?  Am I strong enough to do that?   Where do I begin to step it up?   It seems that as I read and study about sacrifice, obedience always ushers in sacrifice.  Faith in Jesus Christ is a must that leads to obedience.

An observation that I made many years ago was that the Church (really it was more the Ward level) was looking for one of three things from me:  my time, my food, or my money.   When I had an abundance of one they seemed to ask for the others!  During my second year as a member of the Church, I realized that when the missionaries had asked if I would be willing to pay tithing that was just a financial spit in the bucket compared to what was really required!   

The first January after we were married I learned about the Ward Budget!    WHAT?!?!?  We have to help pay for electricity and maintenance on the building?!   Who does that?   Is that the way it was with every church?  I wasn’t really reconsidering my choice I had made the previous year but we were paying 10% of an already meager wage now we have to give another $10/month for the Ward Budget (some people had larger allotments than that… every family was assigned according to what the Bishop asked).   Paying your Ward Budget was not attached to your worthiness of having a Temple Recommend but obedience and sacrifice had a definite connection!   A few years later (around 1976) the Cardston Stake had been approved by the Church to build a new Stake Center.   This was exciting news until I learned that the membership had to contribute 50% of the cost of the building.   The Stake Presidency asked every member to pay and extra 5% of their income to pay for our portion of the new building.  With faith in one hand and obedience in the other, this sacrifice was made month after month.   I could have baked a pie, made some squares, or contributed a craft a lot easier than 10% tithing + 5% Stake Budget + Ward Budget, but money is what was at the top of the Lord’s sacrifice list for now.    

The building was only a few months away from being dedicated when we moved!   We both secretly rubbed our hands together saying, “oh boy, we now have 5% more money”!  I don’t think we realized one thin dime of that money.   I don’t know how we paid that because I couldn’t see where it was coming from in the first place.   There was no extra money floating around.   That was my first great lesson learned about sacrifice, obedience, and faith.   About 1988 the Church did away with Ward Budgets…. couldn’t find that money either!!   So we continued to give our money, time, and food and didn’t try to figure out where it was coming from or how it was going to show up.   

The sacrifice the Lord asks of us is to wholly rid ourselves of the “natural man”

            “ For the Natural man is an enemy to God…unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord…”   (Mosiah 3:19)  

When we completely surrender ourselves to the Lord, then He will cause a mighty change in us and we will become a new person, justified, sanctified, and born again with His image in our countenances.   Amaleki, simply put it, “Yea, come unto him, and offer your whole souls as an offering unto him….”  (Omni 1:26)

Brother Truman G. Madsen tells about a visit he made to Israel with President Hugh B. Brown, an Apostle of the Lord.  In a valley known as Hebron, where tradition has it that the tomb of Father Abraham is located, Brother Madsen asked President Brown, “What are the blessings of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob?” After a short moment of thought, President Brown answered, “Posterity.”

Brother Madsen writes: “I almost burst out, ‘Why, then, was Abraham commanded to go to Mount Moriah and offer his only hope of posterity?’

“It was clear that President Brown, nearly ninety, had thought and prayed and wept over that question before. He finally said, ‘Abraham needed to learn something about Abraham’” (The Highest in Us [1978], 49).

I learned many things about myself during those years.   Tithing didn’t seem like a challenging commandment at all when first approached with it but you add Ward Budget and a Stake Budget on to it and it became a true sacrifice.   This was my pioneering lessons in tithing.   It was my own personal way to trudge through the snow.  

The word sacrifice means literally “to make sacred,” or “to render sacred.”  Today we are not called to pay Ward budgets or Stake budgets or to pull handcarts through the snow-swept plains of Wyoming.  However, we are called to be ministers within the gospel of Jesus Christ.   It is interesting how often we now see the word ministering in the scriptures.   A sister recently queried, “how did we miss that?  Why didn’t we see ministering before?”    I have come to the conclusion that we read ministering to be the act of teaching and preaching (and maybe sometimes some finger wagging!).   President Nelson has put us on a higher plain.  Now we see ministering as it has been redefined and refined as being an act of loving, nurturing, giving, and serving.   We have been lifted higher in thought, word, and now it is up to us, in deed.   

I now need to decide what part of “ALL of me” am I holding back?   What does “ministering” look like on my shoulders?   This is some of the “ah-ha’s” that the Salt Lake City Headquarters Mission gives to me.   Although, these upcoming sacrifices are still in the question form rather than an answer…..

To Be Continued.

Putting on the Armour of Light

28 Nov 2018

As a young girl in Oklahoma we would play well into the summer evening hours.  By 6pm it would be pitch black outside.   We never knew what time it was.  It was so dark that you couldn't see your hand in front of you face.  Just like a responsible Canadian mother would never allow her child to go out in the winter without a scarf, gloves, and toque.   Any good southern mother would not send her child out into the summer night without a flashlight.  I have many fond memories of chasing lightening bugs and flashlight tag.  

No jacket was required and shoes were optional but the flashlight was a must.  The summertime flashlight showed me the possible dangers ahead and kept me on the correct path.   The light served as safety and protection.   I was taught how to put on the armor of light.   I would guess that if ancient Paul could have, he would have included a flashlight in his armor scenario!  

Recently, one of our Interpretation Department events was recording the introduction of the Light of the World campaign in different languages.   We see advertisements and invitations to Light the World everywhere on the Temple Square campus.   

 
We also witnessed the lights being turned on throughout Temple Square.   There are so many lights and it is so bright that it feels like daylight.  We watched the ground's keepers begin in August and just barely finished a week ago.    It was amazing to watch it all unfold.   It is spectacular to see!  As you walk through Temple Square you feel embraced in light.  



Paul counsels us even today, "let us put on the armour of light" (Rom.13:12)
So How do I put on the armor of Light today?

Genesis implies that light began with the Creation but Abraham clarifies that our source of light began in a pre-earth life. 

God asked, "Whom shall I send?" 

When I first read that, I was a bit puzzled.   Wasn't the blueprint for this divine plan already established?  Why ask the question?   The answer is simply that agency was always going to be a fundamental principle of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.   

 




God was looking for a volunteer because the Plan required this undertaking to be a GIFT not an assignment.   Jesus stepped forward as well as Satan.   The deciding factor between the two proposed plans was that Jesus' offer was based on love of God and love of His fellowmen.   Satan's offer was based from self-interest.   Christ is the source of all light.  Each Sunday we partake of the Sacrament where we promise to "put on the armor of Light" by taking upon us His name. 


Light Brings Knowledge
"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path"  (Psalms 119:105) 

Through the years this has become one of my "go to" scriptures that seems to fit every situation and can be the answer to all problems.   

"Thy word" directs our minds to the scriptures.  I believe that the intended meaning is more than just words.  I believe that it is pointing to a higher level.  What do we find in the scriptures?    We find the Gospel of Jesus Christ.   We read about not only principles but also ordinances.  The scriptures are physical.  Where the Gospel of Jesus Christ has a more spiritual nature.  The scriptures teach us WHAT.... the Gospel teaches us HOW to apply it. 
  
"Thy word is a LAMP".   A lamp is much like my flashlight.   It is a guide.  It gives direction "unto my feet".   Our feet takes us places.  Our feet are also subject to the choices we make.  Feet will only go in the direction of how we choose.  So when we read about "feet" in the scriptures it  is usually implying the choices we make. 
"Thy word is a ...light".  Who's word?  The Lord's word is a light.   The Lord's words can be a righteous influence for good.  The path refers to the life style of this mortal journey.  
The knowledge of the Gospel teaches me how to conduct myself.  It can be a righteous influence on the choices that I make and give me direction for the lifestyle that I lead., meaning, being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.   

Light Dispels Confusion
Recently in our Sacrament Service I was reminded of some scriptures that I used to teach often in Seminary.   It was a sweet reminder and I learned new thoughts and ideas about what Isaiah was trying to emphasize.   
"And kings shall be their nursing fathers, and their queens thy nursing mothers: they shall bow down to thee with their face toward the earth, and lick up the dust of thy feet; and thou shalt know that I am the Lord:"  (Isaiah 49:23)

When Isaiah talks about the kings and queens he is referring to the Gentiles or the Lord's covenant people.  They will help everyone.   And why wouldn't they?   They will have the Gospel of Jesus Christ in it's fullness.  When they bow down their heads they are not being subservient they are being respectful and showing honor to those they teach.    I could never find it appealing to be licking anything more or less the dust off of feet.  I knew I needed to look at this with Isaiah's eyes.   

If you Google "dust" you will find that one of the meanings of dust (ei. a cloud of dust) is confusion or disturbance.   Feet again refers to the choices you make.  With their tongues or words of the kings and queens they will dispel confusion from the places they live.  The words they teach will help in the decisions that others make.    Our missionaries today do that very thing.   They bring the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a city or a community and the light of Christ blesses the people who are willing to listen.    Therefore, light (meaning Jesus Christ) will take away confusion. 

The crowning emphasis on this scripture is the Savior testifying, "know that I am the Lord".   We have read many times the Savior say, "I am the light of the world".   When I read that, in my heart, there is always an audible "YES".   Matthew recorded the Lord's words a bit differently when he wrote, "YE are the light of the world" (Matt.5:14)   Was the Lord trying to tell us that we can be like Him?  We can exemplify the Savior?   We can take upon us His name.    

Putting on the armor of light just like my flashlight will protect us and give us safety.  It will keep us on a correct path.  It will lead us to Christ and help us to return to our Father in Heaven.  Isn't this what we all want?



 



 

Sweet Reminders

17 October 2018

God called Joseph Smith by name.   He had watched over Joseph's family generation by generation long before the Scribes began writing their books.  The heavens must have been filled with great joy when Joseph Smith was born in 1805.   The Plan was still in place and going forward.   

A prayerful 14 year old Jospeh entered a grove of trees and God called him by name.   This is not hard to imagine since God had painstakingly watched over Joseph.   I wondered though,  could God really call me by name too? I have had sweet reminders through the years that might give me an answer.   

As a very young girl, maybe 4 or 5 years old, it was on my grandfather's farm of my first memory of when it was implied that maybe God did know who I was and had my best interest at heart.  When I now look back on this accident,  I realize that I was being protected.  

In 1958 while living on the farm we had our own landfill for our garbage.   Today that sounds aweful but that is the way it was.   My grandfather had dug a huge hole far off into the field.   We took our garbage barrels out there and lit it on fire and when it filled he covered it up.  It was a great thrill to ride on the tractor's trailer hitch holding on to Papa as we traveled across the field.  I had done this numerous times and was a seasoned trailer hitch rider!   

 One day my dad had taken on the job of garbage disposal and I assumed my regular position hanging on the back.   Dad proved to be the novice this day.   I guess Papa knew all the bumps, rocks, and holes along the way and knew how to avoid them.   Dad, not so much!  He hit a big rock and it bounced me off the hitch with little effort.  I landed on the ground under the trailer.   By the time Dad had realized what had happen the wheel of that trailer drove right over my little head.  There was a lot of weight in the trailer that day loaded with several garbage barrels.  My dad was ill with the immediate thought of him having crushed my head.  I am sure he thought he would find me seriously injured if not dead, but instead,  he found me dusting myself off trying to figure out how I had fallen off of my well acquainted hitch!  My head should have been crushed between the weight of the trailer and the rock hard Oklahoma ground.   The bedrock is really close to the surface of the land in Oklahoma but that day there was ONE extremely soft, sandy patch of ground.   My head just sunk into the ground and was no worse the wear.  

I never heard God call my name that day but it was evident that He knew who I was and where I was. Much later in my life it became one of those sweet reminders that God could have called me by name had He needed to do so.  

As a teen I was protected again.   Several of my summertime friends and I were swimming at our favorite swimming hole, The Bend.   It was a bend in the Spavinaw Creek that created a deep water hole.   There was also a heavenly sent boulder that was perfectly placed, probably centuries ago and served as the best diving board for miles up and down the creek.  The water was fast running and in order to get to the diving rock you had to go up stream, float down with the water inching your way over to get to the rock.  On the way down you snag the rock, pull yourself up and before you know it, your diving back into the water.  

One day several of us arrived at the Bend anticipating hours of great fun.   I was first in the water and heading toward the rock.   Just as I snagged the rock, it took my breath when I realized that I was eyeball to eyeball with a coiled up Cottonmouth snake just sitting on top of that rock like a chameleon.   I heard instructions as clearly as two people speak.... "let go NOW and float on by as if you are driftwood".   The snake nor I never flinched!  I got to shore as quickly as I could.   My friends and I went downstream and found another swimming hole.   

I didn't understand at the time what had happened but I know now.   Another sweet reminder....

Through the years there have been many such occasions just not so dramatic.    Somehow I get the feeling that I was protected a lot but I just don't always know when and how.  The reminders have not always involved protection.   Most of the time it has been just a sweet message indicating that He knows who I am and where I am.    The most recent was just a few weeks ago. 

At times I get a bit crusty and a bit hard-hearted. One Sunday morning I prayed that I would have an experience that would soften my heart and feel the Spirit.   As almost every Sunday we attended Music and the Spoken Word  to listen to the Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra at Temple Square in the Tabernacle.  The beauty of this experience rarely varies.  It is always extraordinary.  This one Sunday while in the Tabernacle, Brian received a text from Taylor (one of my sons who has a tendency to put on a crusty smoke screen himself) including a silly little story he had written for his daughter, Juliette.  This is what he sent explaining that Juliette often makes her father write stories for her.   This is what she got that Sunday: 

My heart was touched and the tears began to flow. I am not sure if it was the cute little story or the prayer so swiftly answered.  The story was correct.... I would love Juliette no matter what!  I had received  my softened heart and my spiritual experience.   He knew exactly how to do that ... through a sweet granddaughter and a son who really can't hide from his mother behind all his crustiness.  

I love the sweet reminders that reinforce the gospel principles... that God knows who you are, where you are, what your life's mission is and what you need to accomplish that mission.   I have never heard God call me by name but He has never given me any doubts that He knows what it is! 

And It Came To Pass....

23 September 2018

The on-going Latter-day Saint joke is that 1 Nephi is the single most read book of the Book of Mormon due to all the Isaiah chapters in the following book, 2 Nephi!  This is where most Saints would fade away from their scripture studies because Isaiah is a bit challenging to read and comprehend.   When I was a young mother with all six children at home I am not even sure I ever got to 2 Nephi.   It seems like I would have JUST sat down thinking I had a moment when I could do my own scripture study when a child desperately needed something or I could see a child's ridiculous stunt being performed outside or a childish squabble needed refereeing.  So, "And it came to pass..." quickly became my favorite scripture not because it meant so much to me but because that was about all I have time to read!  

One day I was asked, "what did you learn today in your own scripture study?"   I thought about that question often because I just wasn't reading beyond "and it came to pass".    So I really began to think about what I was reading.  What does that piece of scripture mean?   And certainly what does it mean to me?  What am I to learn from this?   I put that question to prayer.   What I learned was life-long lessons that are still applicable today.   

"And it came to pass" means that it didn't come to stay... whatever "it" is?     What is "it"?    "It" can be the hardships and challenges of being a daughter, wife, or mother.    We all have trials in whatever role we are wearing at the time.   No one is void of trials, but how we handle them is so critical to our progression.    
'And it came to pass" merely means that the trials won't come to  stay and you will overcome them and live to tell the story. 

I walked into my kitchen one day and could smell plastic burning.  It was a very strong odor.   I immediately called all the boys up stairs.  
                                                                  "Who has matches?  I can smell plastic burning."  

It didn't take a genius to know it was the six year old twins due to the looks on their faces!     The other two boys stuck around knowing they were safe this time because it wasn't them but was curious as to what their little brothers had done this time.    One of the twins went to the microwave and pulled out the wireless phone.    There was no logic in what I was seeing,  but the phone did not look good!  Thinking that they had just hid the phone in the microwave I asked,
                                                                    "What did you do?"   
                                                                   
                                                                    "We put it in the microwave" explained one twin. 
 The other twin finished the explanation, "We wanted to see what would happen if we put it in there for 100!" 

The two older boys started laughing and shaking their heads so I excused them right away.  I opened up the phone to look at the damage and all I saw was a sea of melted plastic and burnt wires.   Then I put a cup of water into the microwave for the ultimate test to see if it could at the least still heat water.   Not expecting what I witnessed, I was relieved.   IT STILL WORKED!   I was shocked!   I explained to the boys that they were SO lucky that my microwave was still operational, not to mention that they hadn't started my microwave on fire and burned the house down! 

"And it came to pass" can also tell the rest of the story.     

And it came to pass that two miracles happened that day:   my microwave came out of it unscathed and so did the twins!    
One of those twins today is a Junior High School Science Teacher and the other with an accounting degree works for the Church in Salt Lake City and has a set of twins himself.   They each can amply teach about miracles and microwaves.  

"And it came to pass" continues to teach me.   It has taught me that those sweet moments with our children are fleeting.  some of those problems that seemed so huge are now pretty minor.   Now that I am a bit older all the problems I fretted over in my earlier years now have a basis of comparison.  I can more clearly see the value of the scripture "and it came to pass" with that comparison.  It has a calming effect through the love of God.    "And it came to pass"  pats me on the head and says things will be OK. 

"And it came to pass" can indicate that a change has taken place.  My sins, flaws, and imperfections can come to pass through the Sacrament each week.   Through repentance and Christ's  atonement I can change.   So does my scripture say, "and it came to pass that her heart changed"?    Does it say, "and it came to pass that she is making progress"?   

Fear makes me wonder if I am staying the same but then I remember my beginnings as a Latter-Day Saint in 1973 in the Pryor Oklahoma Branch for that basis of comparison.   It was just a small little Branch.   Everyone there was a convert with exception to the two full-time missionaries.   No one in the Branch  had been to the temple, not even the Branch President, because no one had been a member of the Church for a full year.   Even the building we met in was a convert ..... it used to be a laundramat!    At one point a wonderful family from Utah moved into town.   They had four children two of which were Aaronic priesthood holders.  Everyone was so excited.     The family provided two experienced, expert Aaronic priesthood holders to help pass the Sacrament.  These boys were only 12 and 14 years old.   And it came to pass that the Pryor Branch grew into a full ward with its own building and I am sure with its own quorum of experienced and expert Aaronic Priesthood holders.   

It is easy to see that the Pryor Branch made progress by the number of Saints that now live there and the beautiful chapel they now call home.   Am I different?  How have I progressed?   The progress begins with partaking of the Sacrament each week, taking upon myself the name of Christ.   Then progress can come through prayers offered, service rendered, callings magnified, children who were taught to live the gospel,  grandchildren who are being taught the gospel, Temple attendance, missions served, learning how to teach the Savior's way, and a continual learning of how to minister like the Savior.   All these are a work in progress for me.   I can't say any of them have been mastered but I am better at it today than I was yesterday. (Most days I can say that!)

 I have learned that every learning experience isn't always pleasant, nonetheless, valuable.  This past summer was painful when the reality was reinforced that my kind, shy, quiet friend was really the strong one.    And it came to pass that she left this earth life with a legacy of kindness and strength.  She was long suffering and endured to the end maybe not as gracefully as she had wanted, nonetheless, she remained faithful. 

"And it came to pass" can give hope and encouragement.    Jacob gave just such encouragement, " And it came to pass that the master of the vineyard went forth, and he saw that his olive tree began to decay; and he said: I will ^aprune it, and dig about it, and nourish it, that perhaps it may shoot forth young and tender branches, and it perish not."   Jacob 5:4    I feel I have been pruned, and dug about, and nourished.  I also feel the best part of me are my children and grandchildren, those young tender branches that give so much hope.  They are far better people that I am.   

I no longer lightly read "And it came to pass".    I see it for the teaching moment that it is.    "And it came to pass"  always makes me look back with the Lord's measuring stick so that I can go forward with greater strides. 

Bridging the Gap

10 August 2018

Change is one of those complicated English words that can serve as either a noun or verb.  To those who are learning English as a second language, I am sure it makes no sense.   Even in the form of a noun or a verb it can bring much confusion.  

I recall in elementary school having to play “cash register” in front of the whole class.    My palms were sweaty and my mind was muddled with the pressure to not cheat the customer nor cost the company even though it was just paper money.   There were no digital cash register computers subtracting for you nor were there even a hand-held calculator to insure your “customer” was getting the correct change.   It was nerve racking!  Obviously, others felt the same pressure.  Through the next decades the minds of the fixers of the world solved this “change” (noun) problem with digital cash registers.  Change as a verb is not so easily resolved. 

 

CHANGE: (CHanj)  verb   1. Make or become different; to alter, adjust, adapt, amend, modify, 

                                                 revise, or refine.

Change is a two-sided coin but to many, change, is a two-headed monster.   Is it a  friend or is it a foe?  Change always involves choice.  You have to decide.  (Therein lies some of the problems).  

Change can bring fear, uncertainty, confusion, challenges.   In the same breath, change can also bring delight, confidence, wisdom, strength, faith and growth.    Either way, change makes you delve into the unknown.   Some people tip-toe into change and some, like myself, just close their eyes and jump in with both feet!  

Change has been a part of my family’s history for many years.   By now, I think I can consider it to be a friend.    We often look back to family or ancestral experiences in hope that we will glean enough wisdom to move forward in the future.  All that wisdom and experience just sits there until someone bridges the gap between the past and the present and tells the story.   My grandmother, Helene Brooks Green, was that bridge for me.  And now …..

Helene Brooks 1920

THIS IS WHAT I KNOW…

Hearsay and family folklore are a part of every family.   Mine is no different.   We continue to tell and re-tell those stories that fascinate one another.   Most of those stories never get documented.   This would be my attempt to have this particular story in written form. (I think I have written it before but I’m telling it again …. just to make sure!)   What makes it even more fascinating is that this story that began in 1836 never surfaced until 1973.  It was told to me by my grandmother, Helene Brooks Green, and it was told to her by her father, George Warren Brooks.   

George W. Brooks 1956

 By the time I knew him, George was affectionately referred to by all his descendants as “Pa”.   I lived with my grandparents, Helene and Wilbur Green, in the beginnings of my life from the time I was 2 years old until I was 6 years old.   Pa lived in the same household but this was at the close of his life.   Four generations of people lived in that household with Pa and I as the bookends.   Gratefully, our lives overlapped even though it was for a very short time.   Pa died when I was 4 years old, but I still have some vivid memories of him.   Still I was far too young to ask the important questions and then sit and listen to the answers!

George was born and raised in Brushy Creek, Iowa the sixth of eight children to Henry and Phoebe (Corless) Brooks.  He was the third generation of the family to be faithfully devout to the Re-organized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in his youth.    Most of his siblings and both his parents ended their days in Lamoni, Iowa, the headquarters for the Re-organized Church. 

This story begins in 1836 in Malahide, Elgin Co., Ontario, Canada with George’s grandmother, Nancy Brooks Corless.   Nancy and her sister, Phoebe, had listened to the newly arrived missionaries and converted to their church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.   Nancy and Phoebe had done everything together.  The two Brooks sisters had even married the two Corless brothers, Hiram and Philander.  The two girls had convinced their husbands that they needed to leave Canada in order to live in “Zion” in Jackson Co., Missouri.   Hiram and Philander never joined The Church but they loved their wives so much that they would be willing to leave their well-established home and farms in Ontario in order to help Nancy and Phoebe find their “Zion”.
 

The next year they each loaded up a wagon and their families and off they went toward Zion.   They had 10 children between the two families with Nancy having a babe-in-arms.   After several months they wintered in Quincy, Branch Co., Michigan.    While in Michigan they had heard of the mobs and persecution of the Latter-day Saints in Missouri.  The two families discussed their situation and decided to stay in Branch County.   Nancy and Phoebe remained as faithful as they could with no other church members around.   A few years later after the Prophet Joseph Smith had died several of the dissidents of The Church came to Quincy.   Nancy and Phoebe saw no harm in joining with them since they still believed in the Book of Mormon.   They became members of the Re-organized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (RLDS).  

By 1844, Missouri’s Zion would have to wait for not only Nancy and Phoebe but the entire church.   The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had moved from Missouri into Nauvoo, Illinois in 1840.  After the death of the prophet, Joseph Smith, they were soon forced out of their homes again.   By then the Corlesses had lived in Michigan for seven years.   Their farms were well established and profitable.  Nancy and Hiram had three more children in Michigan which now totaled seven children in the family.  Life in Michigan was safe and the Church was similar!  I am sure it seemed like the smart choice to make.  Change had met its match and they were staying in Michigan.

 Many of Nancy and Hiram’s descendants stayed in the RLDS Church and in Branch County, Michigan.   But for many others a migration toward Lamoni, Iowa seemed natural since that was the headquarters for the RLDS Church.   Nancy’s grandson, my great-grandfather, George Warren Brooks

George W. Brooks and Jennie June Taylor (wedding day)

raised his family in and around Independence, Missouri that very “Zion” that Nancy and Phoebe sought after in the beginning. 

Ironically, this is where religious change for Nancy and Phoebe was intended to end but now Independence, Missouri was going to be a new religious beginning for many of their descendants in years to come.

George by profession was a sheep broker.   He would buy and sell herds of sheep, market and distribute them throughout the country.   This seemed to keep him on the road a lot.   

 His wife, Jennie, and their oldest daughter, Helene, seemed to manage the household responsibilities quite well.   Helene seemed to take on the role of “assistant mother” to her four younger sisters with no hesitations. 

Helene (at the top), (clockwise) Thelma, Nelle, Peg, Dorothy

 Sundays were no different.   Jennie and Helene would dress the girls and march off to church together while Pa was out of town.  They attended the RLDS Church until one day everything fell apart! 

Jennie had taken the girls to church.   While there she heard some man say some chauvinistic remark that just did not sit right with her.   I am sure that this was not the first one that she had heard but for some reason this one comment just stuck in her craw and she just couldn’t swallow it down!   Immediate change was in order!   She stood, picked up her belongings and marched she and her little girls out the door and across the street to the Episcopal Church and there they stayed for the next four generations!   Helene chuckled as she recalled this day witnessing her mother’s fury and determination. 

Jennie June (Taylor) Brooks

Hearing this story for the first time in 1973 I was amazed.   I had never heard of any affiliation with The Latter-day Saints or the RLDS church.   I guess she felt I needed to know it because I had recently joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.   

I asked, “What did Pa think about leaving the church that his mother and grandmother were so devoted to?” 

Then Helene out of thin air told this matter-of-fact story.   She began, “You know Pa was very good friends with Joseph Smith III, the son of the founder of the Mormons.   I remember him coming to our home often.   He lived nearby.   I remember seeing him.   He was very tall and thin.  He had a long white beard and he often dressed in a white linen suit.   I remember thinking to myself in my young mind…. If I was ever going to see God, this is what He would look like.”  

Joseph Smith, III

Grandmother then relayed the most remarkable story to me, she explained, “Pa once told me a conversation between he and Mr. Smith.   Mr. Smith told Pa that he knew he did not have the same power that his father had.   He knew he did not have the same gifts.   He knew that he could not do the same things that his father, Joseph Smith, Jr., could do but he, Joseph Smith III, did what he did (meaning leading the RLDS Church) because of his great love and respect of his mother.”  

She continued, “I think this story brought indifference to Pa about the RLDS Church and when his friend, Mr. Smith, died Pa felt no obligation to stay and certainly would support Jennie in her decision.” 

So, I grew up in the Episcopal Church. We changed to the Methodist Church because there was no Episcopal Church in the little community that we had moved to.  And now here I am back to where Nancy and Phoebe started in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and on top of that I live in Canada!  I wonder what they think of that?

THIS IS WHAT I HAVE LEARNED……

I am the bridge or link between the generations before me and the generations following me.   I need to tell the stories.   I am the only one that can connect my grandchildren to my parents, grandparents, and even my great-grandparents.   I am the common denominator.   I connect the generations on either side of me.   I need to talk about the changes and choices that they had to make and the changes and choices that I have had to make.  With those stories, comes all the growth, faith, and strength that has made us the citizens, Saints, and family members we are today.  
  

Tell your stories that bridge the gap!