Wonderful Skype

Six months ago, the Bishop of our home ward in Chandler, AZ, Ron McCook, with whom I had served before our mission, was released. His first counselor, Phil Lewis, with whom I had also served, was called as the new Bishop. Friday night, 14 January, all of Ron’s former counselors (who were still in Chandler), met at Phil’s home for a night to honor Bishop McCook. At 2:15 am, Saturday morning, London time, we arose for a planned Skype call at 2:30 am. It was 7:30 PM, Friday night in Arizona. Right on time, at 2:30, our computer came alive with a Skype call. We visited with Ron and Keri McCook, Bishop and Cindi Lewis, and all of our friends and their wives who had served as counselors to Ron – five, including us. We shared memories and Bishop Lewis assured us, “We miss you two so much, and can’t wait to put you to work.” We felt loved, and reminded of how much the Lord loves each of us! Such wonderful, loving thoughts and memories; well worth waking in the middle of the night.

Gerry and I are thinking that it might a fitting tribute, that we have a breakfast in their honor at 9:30 am in London. We’ll then Skype Bishop and Cindi Lewis, so they can enjoy the fun, too. Let’s see, 9:30 am, minus seven hours. Wow, what a coincidence! That would be 2:30 am in Chandler.

Worlds Without End

The Hubble Ultra Deep Field in 3D

No Greater Joy

For many years, I had convinced myself that our family history had been done. We have a professional genealogist in the family named Richard Price, and thanks to him and my mother, it appeared to me that we had gone as far back as we possibly could. “It’s been done for almost 20 years,” I said, and now we’ll leave the rest to those fortunate enough to serve in the millennial reign.
When we arrived in London, we were "reminded" that we don't need to stay on a "family line", and that we could possibly find success while researching our Descendancy lines. That's when we explore the families of the aunts and uncles that married into the family. I call those relatives “The Forgotten In-laws”.  About nine months into our mission, I realized that I had spent most of my time helping others, scheduling, writing talks, and trying to put out little fires, but I had neglected my own family history research. While looking for a place to start, I noticed that the husbands and wives of my mother's aunts and uncles were known, but no other details, and the children of those families were not known. As I started to flesh out those families, I found it easy to also find the parents of those in-laws, and their children. The eventual discoveries on both of my parent’s lines, have brought great joy into my life.
In the 19th and early 20th centuries, families were large and it was common to lose three or more children. However, I found that if a couple lived long enough to be included in the 1911 Census of England and Wales, they indicated the number of children that were born, and how many had not survived. This 1911 feature has helped me find those who died between censuses.
I have discovered dozens of families, and submitted hundreds of names to the temple. Many more will be found in the future. Names that were deeply embedded - forgotten members of my family history - a history that was long ago declared “complete”.

Cue the Background Music

Has this ever happened to you? Has this ever happened to you? Someone says something carelessly unkind, or makes a drive-by remark with no relevant evidence. You know you're right, but because you’re a nice person, you don’t say anything, bite your tongue, and let it go. That night, when it’s bed time, you find that you didn’t “let it go”.
That happened to me this week, and I know better - that one can’t let someone else take control of one's life. We must be the ones to determine if and when we'll be happy. Nevertheless, that night, I couldn’t or wouldn’t put it down, and looked back. It's a wonder that I didn't turn into a pillar of salt, because lying in bed, I debated, and boy, I did a great job! I am so brilliant when arguing with myself.
The more points I scored in the debate, the more I argued; getting nowhere, and finding no peace. Just when I was pleading that I could get off this terrible Merry-Go-Round, along came tender mercies in the form of a familiar hymn. It softly streamed through my mind, and I found myself humming along - singing when I could remember the words. Slowly, the hymn displaced the debate. By letting it go and forgiving, I had truly won the battle.
In 1973, Elder Boyd K. Packer offered wonderful advice. He encouraged us to sing a favorite hymn when we find unworthy thoughts in our mind. It’s called “Worthy Music -- Worthy Thoughts”.

“The Law of the Garbage Truck”,  by David J. Pollay.

"Many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they look for a place to dump it. And if you let them, they’ll dump it on you.

 
So when someone wants to dump on you, don’t take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Believe me. You’ll be happier."

New Years Eve in London

Friday, Gerry and I worked in the Family History Centre, and then closed early at 3:00 PM. Later that night, the England London Senior Missionaries gathered at the Crandall flat, enjoyed dinner and fellowship. What a wonderful time we had. Three hours later, at 9:00 PM, couples started to leave. We just don’t seem to bounce as high as we did in the past. Front, chairless missionaries: Gerry, me, Sister Campbell. Sitting missionaries: Elder and Sister Crandall, Sister and Elder Harbrecht, Elder Campbell, Sister Groves, Elder and Sister Miles, and Sister Dewsnup

Gerry and I could have gone to the Embankment Pier, where over 250,000 people lined the north bank of the Thames to watch the fireworks, and usher in the New Year. But, we walked home, passing people dressed in their finest- on on their way to someting that they hoped would be nice.
When we arose, New Years Day, I noticed a wonderful video that the BBC produced, of the fireworks and excitement that we had missed. I have never seen anything so spectacular! This was the first time that London’s fireworks had been choreographed to music. Notice that there are people in the London Eye, on the South side of the Thames, recipients of a most fantastic view – safe and secure in their glass capsules.

London Fireworks on New Years Day, 2011

A New Years Thought – Searching for Our Souls
“Prayer is our most pivotal protection against over involvement in worldly things, and becoming so absorbed with possessions and privilege and honor and status, that we no longer desire to undertake the search for our soul.” Patricia Holland

Portia Hawley

Senior missionaries can opt to go home 30 days earlier or 30 days later than their original release date. Because Christmas was coming up, Elder and Sister Hawley, the England London Mission Office Couple, chose the 30 days early option; to go home to Orem, Utah on 7 December, instead of in January. Portia especially wanted to hold a grandchild that had been born while she and Don were serving in London.
29 December, 22 days after they had returned to Orem, held their grandchildren, and enjoyed Christmas, almost in a "twinkling of an eye", Portia passed away.

The National Galleries

For 15 months, I have found a way to weasel out of going to the National Gallery. On 29 December, I had no more excuses. Gerry felt that I needed a lesson in art appreciation, so off we went. I walked with her, and just smiled. A half hour later, Gerry said, "I'm done." Not exactly our kind of place. If I simply think, "I told you so", does that make me a bad husband? 
Thursday, we tried art again. This time we visited the National Portrait Gallery. The portrait's narratives would gingerly dance around illicit relationships, indicating, for example, that the Duke of Buckingham, (shown on the left), was “a favorite of King James I”. Yes, the same King who gave us the King James Version of the Bible. King James built Buckingham house in 1705 as a loving gift for the Duke. We know it now as Buckingham Palace.
The narratives also celebrated King Charles II, (shown on the right), and his many mistresses and  illegitimate children, with an entire room decorated with portraits of his favs. There were rooms and rooms of kings, dukes, and princes - dressed in silks and doilies with their toes pointed as if they were doing the Hokey Pokey. There were portraits of famous politicians, scientists, painters, and actors. I loved the history, but felt like I was in a very dainty place. Then I entered THE room, called Building the Empire. There, amid the explorers and warriors, I could finally feel some testosterone, and I soon felt better. These were real men, dressed for action, and I don't mean ballet! They would never explore the arctic or defend Khartoum in silk hose, ballet shoes or high heels.