Category Archives: Proze-iac Thoughts

`Seeking Miracles? See Miracles! Prose

As my father reaches his earthly life’s end, I often find I’m seeking miracles. Can he last long enough to see my new-born granddaughter (his great-granddaughter)? (Yes, he did!) Can he recover to eat and drink enough to get stronger? Can he get strong enough to get back home to Wisconsin and watch another sunset over Lake Winneconne, as he has always wished? Will he live long enough to hear the purple martins feed their young? Those are all miracles I — and others — hope for. But we’re not in charge.

Seeing The Miracles Given

As I hope for and wish for all those miracles from a loving Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ, I’m suddenly struck by a recognition that I’m being ungrateful. How? I’m not recognizing — and giving praise and gratitude for — the miracles They’ve already given my Dad, the miracles that — while not being maybe what I might want — are still amazing.

Here’s just a few miracles that, if I think about it, I can recognize:

  • Dad demanding, against all logic, that he come out to Arizona in mid-December, instead of going to Arizona later. (If he would have stayed in Wisconsin, it’s likely the septic sickness he probably already had would have killed him with nobody around)
  • Because he stayed with my sister in Arizona, she heard him fall, and recognized he was in trouble
  • My brother-in-law had the wisdom to demand calling 911, which took him to a hospital, which diagnosed him as being septic. Waiting even a day or two longer probably would have killed him
  • Getting him into a close-by rehab, where family members in the Phoenix area were at least able to visit him. (Yes, even though he hated being there, that was a miracle!)
  • It was a miracle and tender mercy that a nearby granddaughter had the impression to make his favorite (from his wife’s recipe even!) lemon meringue pie and boiled raisin cake. He’d been “verklempt” and in pain for days, not eating, but he wanted to eat that. Guess what!?! Things moved! And he was VERY grateful!
  • While my sister was out of town, worried about him, two grandsons and their families visited on separate days. One gave him a Priesthood blessing of comfort and health that greatly helped him.
  • Last summer, a couple visited my Dad’s church congregation in Oshkosh. I had the impression (as I often do) to turn around and introduce myself. Turned out that they happened to be from Arizona. Turned out that they happened to be from my sister’s congregation, and good friends with her and her family! They were able to come out, meet Dad, and I took them for an afternoon canoe trip up Mud Creek. While my sister was out of town, the wife — who “just happens” to be a nurse — was able to stop by and visit my Dad, assess how he was doing, and give my sister a report that calmed her
  • As we looked at long-term care options, our niece — his granddaughter — had a bed open up in Tucson, at a nice group home facility she owns, and where several relatives and friends work
  • Interestingly enough, last year on our visit to Tucson, we felt strongly to drive by the facility and visit my niece. Because we had been there, it made it much easier to imagine the place Dad might be going to. AND it helped “pave the way”, because Dad was able to imagine the place, and he knew — and said — “Her place is a REALLY nice place!”
  • As Dad got worse, the Phoenix Doctor refused to release him on the day we were going to take him to Tucson. Miracle? Nobody told the on-call caregivers. As a result, when my sister and I came to visit to tell him he was NOT going to Tucson, he was already dressed, sitting in his wheelchair, telling us “get me the #*$(#& out of this place!!” Then, he reminded us that, against doctors’ orders, he had done a jailbreak with his wife, taking her out of a similar situation years before. The doctors said she might live three or four days. They had three more years together at their lakefront home
  • My sister and I realized that, in his condition, we could not transport him in our car. Miracle? A wheelchair van transport company I’d cancelled on two days before was called, and “just so happened” to be leaving for Tucson with her own father an hour later. “If you had called even a few minutes later, I wouldn’t have answered.” But she did answer, and he was on his way!
  • Getting down to Tucson was amazing. His granddaughters and great-granddaughters who run and work at the place were all over him, hugging him and licking his bald head as they had for decades. You could see the joy in being around family
  • Decades before, my cousin (Dad’s sister’s son) and his family had moved to Tucson from Thailand. Their home, which they kindly allow me to stay at, is less than 15 minutes east of where Dad’s new place was. Miracle? You should have seen Dad’s face light up when they came to visit!
  • Staying at my cousin’s also meant I was minutes away from the Tucson LDS Temple, which I was able to visit multiple times during my stay. This gave me a great deal of peace, and was, for me at least, a personal miracle. Any time I’m down, or feeling sad, or just needing a mental or spiritual break, I can find sweet peace and respite in The House of the Lord
  • In addition, I’ve been able to attend the Mesa Temple with my sister (less than 10 minutes from her house!) several times, and have talked about thoughts of eternity with her in sacred space. I’ve also frequented the Gilbert Temple, 15 minutes from my son’s home and 25 minutes from my other sister’s home
  • The work we do at the Temple(s) is for our relatives who have passed away, so they have a choice of accepting the saving ordinances of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As the line between my father’s life and eternity gets more thin, it’s comforting to know (and I do know it!) that these relatives — many of whom were “found” in Bavaria and elsewhere because of Dad’s encouragement will be on the other side to meet him
  • As I rushed to be at my Dad’s bedside (because we didn’t think he would make it), there were several traveling miracles that happened to get me from my home to Atlanta (both in the throes of a rare snowstorm) to Phoenix earlier than I’d planned
  • My sister and her family have been warriors in taking care of Dad, organizing his care, and taking care of him. What a miracle that he happened to be staying with her when all of this happened, and that she has the knowledge and wisdom to coordinate his care in a logical and hands-on way
  • My daughter, her husband, and my new granddaughter were able to fly down from Seattle and introduce Dad to his newest great-granddaughter. He and I were able to give her a naming blessing, while my daughter held her. Dad had so much joy in seeing yet another one of his wonderful grandchildren
  • His other grandchildren and great-grandchildren, as well as other friends and relatives — many who live within an hour or two of his new place — are able to regularly visit him and shower him with love and affection
  • In fact, my two nieces own and work at the facility. Most importantly, ALL of their children, grandchildren, in-laws, and friends — most of whom know Dad — live within a short drive of where he is, and they’ve already visited him several times
  • Because of technology AND that Dad knows how to use it (a huge miracle), he is frequently on video chats with friends and family thousands of miles away
  • Working with excellent caregivers — including his loving granddaughter who owns the facility — Dad is getting his pain meds and other living processes in order. My niece’s goal has been “to make Grandpa comfortable.” He has become “more comfortable than I’ve been in months.” If end-of-life is near, having Dad be, finally, comfortable, with hospice available (another miracle), surrounded by dozens of people who love him and care for him, is one of the biggest miracles of all

I’m certain there are other miracles that I’ve missed, and others yet to come. None of these may culminate in the miracle of getting him back to Wisconsin, but maybe that’s not in God’s plan. Laying out these miracles has helped me realize that, no matter what we might want, recognizing God’s Hand in all things is a worthwhile and worshipful exercise.

No matter what the outcome, as Dad has often said, “I’ve had a good life.” And that’s the greatest miracle any of us can hope for.

Outdoor Musings Like Thoreau: ConTEXTing Prose

December 17th 2024 3:30 p.m. Banks of the West Chickamauga, Spirit Tree Farms, NW Georgia
How much did Thoreau write? Did he take his pencil and paper out with him when he sat by the pond? Did he draw? Scratch a few notes and then expand them later on by the fireplace?

It had been my objective to keep a copious record ever since I came here in 2017 (or was it 18?) To take daily notes, to see what I’ve observed and write about them. But those objectives now seem to have floated past like the dead leaves swirling in the high-rising water of the creek after rain.

I can sit here and drone on and on, as I watched the currents bubbling and surging, as I hear the water splashing against the fallen tree downstream and wonder if negative ions are more powerful upstream or downstream? Or does it matter? I can look at the singular white sapling’s reflection in the creek, steady and constant as everything else flows by. I can wonder why this creek, now at least 15 ft deep and 50 ft wide, is called a creek when so many rivers out west are so much smaller?

I listen to the gurgle of my stomach and wonder what I ate that made me so gassy and bloated and if I have diarrhea, then why isn’t my condition diuretic?

I don’t realize how still it is here until a jet from an airport 20 miles away flies overhead on its way to Dallas or Birmingham or Orlando or Atlanta. But soon the roar of its engines fade and then I’m left to listen to the squawking of the woodpeckers and the chirping of the wrens and the cardinals.

A beer can catches my attention. Three-fourths submerged, it flows slower than the rest of the flotsam and jetsam and spins in Long slow circles as if captured in its own dance, its own rhythm. For a moment, I forget that it’s trash, and it becomes some sort of found art object. Then, as it fades downstream into the distance, I notice that it’s slowly sinking and soon will be out of sight not only to me, but to everybody else, until the next drought and covers it embedded on the creek bank somewhere farther down.

Outoor Writers Bathroom Breaks

I have to go to the bathroom. Did Thoreau or Longfellow or Whitman or Muir ever write about such problems or concerns? Or did they simply drop trou in the woods and let fly. I wonder if they ever worried about getting any on their pants, or were they so adept at positioning themselves that it always went where it should and never where it shouldn’t (or is that shitant?

I wish I could relieve myself, but the corn husks and corn cobs and oak leaves are all wet and brittle. S***. Literally. This is uncomfortable.

I make it about 50 yards. The red Harbor Freight bucket beckons, and although I discover too late it is perilously close to a wild blackberry stick, and its edges will probably put permanent creases in my buttocks and thighs, the cool plastic provides unexpected yet welcome relief.

Again the question comes up: What am I eating that is so stomach sickening? Or was it the drink I took out of the puddled rainwater when maybe a deer or raccoon or Beaver or possum had previously stuck their head? Or the chunk of rainwater ice I sucked on? Or was it the cheese? Certainly not… the salmon mousse. 

The other question arises: How long can I sit here with this hard plastic pressing into my flesh? And is it possible, because there was already 6 in of rainwater in the bottom of the bucket, to fill up the pail? It certainly feels like it could.

While I’m sitting here and doing something that rhymes with sitting, I look around at the pawpaw saplings that I have carefully placed six to eight feet apart in a row next to the shadows edge where, in three to five years they could be six to eight feet tall and producing wild pawpaw. Or will this just be another failed attempt of mine to force a man’s ideas nature instead of just letting it go? But I want more pawpaw, and more blueberries, and more beauty berries and more wildflowers. And when things to grow and flourish. I want to heal the land.

I think my neighbors are coming out to their hunting blind. I will soon see them if they are. 

Crap.

Why I Voted For Trump: Past Sins Versus Current Evil

In the immediate 2024 Election aftermath, many critics, liberals, and media members asked me (and over half the country) why I voted for Trump for President. The uproar — despite Trump’s overwhelming victory and the liberals resounding defeat — has not slowed down. In fact, it seems like the media and those who didn’t vote for Trump are doubling down.

Is Trump Evil? Am I then also evil?

Almost every day (when I choose to read or watch anything), I’ll see something from a relative, friend, or just the media badmouthing Trump and those who voted for Trump. The narrative usually runs something like: “Those who voted for Trump are either stupid, ignorant, or deliberately choosing to ignore what a terrible person he is, and how he’ll ruin the country.”

Fortunately (according to their narrative), they are the enlightened ones, those who didn’t vote for Trump, whose duty is now to protect and preserve this great Nation. This they will do by standing strongly and firmly against the Bad Orange Man (no matter what he does), by pointing out how hateful, racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, homophonic, warmongering, and stupid he is. It further becomes their duty to convert all those who voted for Trump, that we may see the error of our ways (although years of campaigning against him has not been successful).

If we are not willing to change, to see the error of our ways, then we too must be hateful, racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, homophonic, warmongering, and stupid.

It is in this post-election scenario that I wrote the following, as a response to a relative’s forwarding an anti-Trump post. I did not respond on social media, but I still feel it’s important to let my feelings and logic be known.

If Everything Against Him Is True, I Still Have Compelling Reasons Why I Voted For Trump

“All right. I have tried to listen to what some BYU graduate said about Trump being “a sexual predator and how dare he get into office and nobody cares that we put a sexual predator in the office”, with an open mind. I think if you listen to it [and other anti-Trump commentary] with an open mind too you will see perhaps some of the same problems that I see with it.

Although the presenter does make several very good points, (and I’m certainly willing to think about them), the post’s beginning assumption, which he continues to bang on like a drum throughout the video, is that people who voted for Trump voted to put a serial sexual predator into the White House.

I’m trying here to say okay maybe I’m responding cognitively (or whatever whatever he said) and all the reasons that he said that I would feel the way I felt. (But isn’t it interesting that by using that very argument, he gives people absolutely zero way to feel other than how he’s wants them to feel?) So I’m going to go on the assumption that I do not believe that Donald Trump is a serial sexual predator. I do not believe the proof is there that he is currently that.

I think the same argument could be made for Bill Clinton and in fact Is even more so for Bill Clinton, because evidence shows that he was doing that type of thing in the Oval Office. In contrast, the evidence for Trump doing that has been, what, decades ago? So, for the sake of argument, let’s say Trump was a serial sexual predator. Do people have to be judged by the worst thing they’ve done in their life, for their entire life? There is no changing? There is no repentance?

[Sidenote: When presented with this arguement, most folks will say “Well, Trump never repented. He never said he was sorry. So how are we to know what he did?” Uh, is that our job? We get to go around and look at others and say “You didn’t repent. Or, if you did, you didn’t repent and change in the right way. Therefore, according to me, you are still guilty, and still a bad person.” Do we have that right?

So right off the top I don’t agree with his argument. He makes an assumption (Trump IS a serial rapist), and then builds on what I feel is a flawed assumption. If he would stop pounding on that point, I think he might have a valid arguement.

How Safe Do Folks Who Voted For Trump (Or Didn’t) Feel Now?

The video presenter’s point about why people don’t feel safe with Trump is, I think, valid. Many people (my relatives included) don’t feel safe having a man in the White House who, they are convinced, is a serial rapist.

I’m also certain that there are a lot of people that don’t feel safe with Trump, and not because of Trump’s sexual proclivities. There are people who don’t feel safe because he hobnobs with the presidents of Russia and China and North Korea. There are people who don’t feel safe because he says fracking is okay and “drill baby drill”. There are people who don’t feel safe because of his border policies and because of his announced intent to deport people. There are people who don’t feel safe because of his economic policies. There are people who don’t feel safe because of his environmental stance. There are people who don’t feel safe because of his business dealings. There are people who don’t feel safe for a lot of reasons.

So why this particular moral or amoral stance and fear?

The video presenter then goes on to say that doesn’t mean that I’m a bad person because I voted from Trump, but “we need to do better.” In what way? I can say that I didn’t feel safe with Kamala or the Democrats for a dozen reasons. I didn’t feel safe and I don’t feel safe with many of the standards that the Democrats espouse. I don’t feel safe with the hypocrisy of having a president seduce an intern in the Oval Office and prey on her, and then coming back several years later and saying oh by the way this guy that you elected is a sexual predator even though what evidence there is is primarily hearsay from decades ago. So I think, as in all political discussions, we have to make choices between the lesser of two evils. My inability to feeling safe with Kamala Harris and the Democrats far outweighs my lack of safety with Donald Trump. And that is on every ground: Moral, economic, military, social, emotional, everything.

More importantly, while I recognize that people who have been abused or feel at risk would not feel safe with a sexual predator in the White House, I believe in the people he is surrounding himself with (let’s assume he is a sexual predator). They are going to protect my daughter and my granddaughters and my sons and grandsons from all the things that I’m worried about them experiencing far more than the Democrats have proven during their last several terms that they are.

What I’m Afraid Of And Why I Voted For Trump

What type of things do I worry about, you ask? I am frightened for my grandchildren being constantly bombarded with the being gay is good or that they can mutilate their bodies messages. I worry about my granddaughters having to listen to drag queens in public schools, exposing them at a young age to a life style I do not think is appropriate. I am fearful my children will have their parenting rights taken away from them, just because they don’t agree with society or the Teacher’s Union.

I worry about my daughters and granddaughters and sons and grandsons facing nuclear war. [Update: Many are worried Trump will start World War 3, nuclear war, and end us all. Reality: Biden/Harris just gave the Ukraine permission to use medium-range guided missles to strike Russian within her borders. Problem? The missles guidance depends on either the USA or NATO-enabled satellite systems. If Russia gave Cuba missles, then provided the satellite guidance to strike at Miami, Atlanta, Houston, and Disney World, we would consider that an act of war.]

Biden/Harris did that very thing last week, after they lost the election.

I worry about my children and grandchildren facing economic destruction. I worry and I’m scared for the potential downfall of our constitutional republic. I worry about a continuing open-border policy that allows criminals to freely come in, be housed on the taxpayers’ dollar, flown to a place where “they can be safe”, and then proceed to kill young women jogging. (This happened less than 10 miles away from where my niece and nephew are raising their children on the other side of Georgia.) I worry about the government putting so many restrictions on our property at Spirit Tree Farms that we can’t use to benefit Nature and the environment the way that we would like.

These and other factors that I’m afraid of far outweigh, sorry to say, the worry that YOU and others like you are going to be directly and adversely impacted by having Trump in the White House.

In a nutshell, the reason I voted for Trump is this: Even IF all the claims against him are true, the things I fear the most are the policies and practices of the Democrats. The potential results of his character flaws, even if they are as bad as the Democrats and the majority media claim, are nowhere near as bad as the potential, promised, and proven results that the Democrats have brought, are bringing, and would bring.

The people have spoken. We have four years to watch the results.

Southern Evening Sorrow: IMprov Free Verse

The constant droning
of the neighbor’s farm irrigation water pump,
or it is it his tractor,
provides background noise
for the birds screeching
and the bugs chirping
and the frogs croaking and splashing.

Unpleasant,
this,
the man-made droning
that never goes away,
unlike the giant flights
that roar overhead
but eventually fade
into the distance.

Still,
better than the TV and social media,
with their constant
look at this look at that you won’t believe what happened today oh my goodness this is so significant!

My heart is breaking slowly,
in small pieces.
I was tired of being lonely.
I was tired of being alone.
I know how to do alone
and lonely
so well.

My stomach is too full
to go hang out
at a pizza place.
I don’t drink,
so a bar provides no relief.

I’m glad I don’t live on the coast,
on a beach
where I could simply take off my shoes
and my robe
and Walk
and Walk
and Walk
toward the sunset,
until the water washed over me
and lifted me
and carried me
where it wanted.

If I Walk
and Walk
and Walk
and let my feet carry me
where they want,
there’s a good chance
I’ll find my way back
to this porch later this evening,
because the bugs always start
to bite
around sunset,
and they provide poor companionship.

Lifting Field Work From Drudgery to Nature Joy: Prose

Backstory: We take care of (earth partnership, earth stewardship) six acres of land, including woods, wildflowers, fields, and gardens, at Spirit Tree Farms in Northwest Georgia. 

The other day I was out working in the field, planting chard, lettuce, and raking in wildflower seeds into a large area we’d burned a few days before. Sweating, I looked up at the sky and caught myself resenting the work I HAD to do. I noticed that I was feeling down in my soul.

Just then, several birds flew overhead. As they called out in a Springtime serenade, I felt my heart lift, and my soul rejoice. I continued what I was doing, but it was no longer with sadness or resentment, but with a glad and joyful heart.

Why is it that we can do the exact same thing, especially working out on the land, and it can either be a task or chore of druudgery, or something we do with joy and gladness? What is it that leaves us feeling uplifted and strengthened? What is it that makes the change?

As I thought about it, out in the field, I realized that the mere act of THINKING about what I was doing, and changing my mind about how I felt about my field work, helped me feel better about the tasks I was doing out in Nature.

Even more importantly, as I pondered about it, I had to ask myself: “Why am I doing this?” When I decided that I was doing what Heavenly Father — often — has asked me to do (partner with the land, heal the Earth), they my soul was uplifted. In fact, it was the birds flying overhead that reminded me that I was in partnership with them, and with all of Natiure. And whjen you feel like you’re part of something bigger and more significant, that you’re helping and serving the Earth and everything on it, that you’re working to heal the Land, then it is easier to feel joy in what you are doing.

Of course, that means you do have to ASK Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ — the Creator — WHAT they want you to do. What part are you to play in Earth partnership? They are the great biologists, the perfect gardeners. In The Book of Mormon, the prophet Amulek said: “Cry unto him over the crops of your fields, that ye may prosper in them.” (Alma 34:24). But I think it’s even more than your crops prospering. It’s YOU prospering in the crops of your fields, learning, growing with them, connecting. Even if what the Creator tells you to do doesn’t work out the way you think it should, you will learn from it and grow and change.

Most of all, you’ll feel connected with the Earth. You’ll feel part of a greater whole. And that connection lets you #FindNatureJoy in ways that will keep you doing what you need to do, what you should be doing, in ways that will support you and bring you joy.

Finding Nature Joy

As the birds soared and circled and called out to me as I begrugingly worked in the field that Spring day, I felt connected to them, and to what I was husbanding, planting, and tending in the field. I felt connected to the sun, the clouds, the breeze, the dirt. Smiling, I turned my face upward and waved at the birds. Then, weeping, I waved at them, thanked them out loud “THANK YOU!” for their song and their visit, and plunged my hands deep into the ground.

ANd felt connected to the Creator, to the Earth, to Nature, to all of Creation. Because I was a part of it.

 

Cold Medicine Free Verse

As he wearily made his way
to his king size empty bed
alone
it was a song better left unsaid,
unsung.

He heavily breathing
from sinus infection
and midwinter cold
and allergies
and dust,
from cleaning up messes
that were not his own,
yet were,
taking the green pill,
medicine that would cure
his cough
or at least let him sleep,
(although he must be woken up later to take the medicine that would keep his heart beating.)

And he just watched a movie
about lunch
that reminded him of a film
about dinner,
and why has never anyone made one
about breakfast,
the most important meal of the day,
because after breakfast no one can write.

Don’t wait up.
And the movies and the poems that spawn them,
he wonders if he could write such,
that perhaps some obscure
Art House actor and actress could make them come to life
and seem more real
and less pretentious than they are.

Then, in the midst of his rambling,
the door opens
and she who was once
the author and finisher
of his life and salvation
interrupts
and he doesn’t know if it’s about
old men’s diapers
or the ice cream mess
he had to clean up from the floor
because she,
unaware,
left it there.
Will the House burn down someday?
Is he the only one who can see?

And the art house films
remind him of his daughter,
cosmopolitan
(though not in a cosmo girl type of way,)
but living in the Queen City
or the Big Apple,
and now he is out
in rural deplorable land
and he wonders if his lack of connection
to the arts,
to music,
and to Passion
is robbing him?
Or is it feeding his soul
with something much deeper,
much more mature,
something that Nature can bring
only to those who are immersed
deep
within her.

He shuts his eyes
and picks his toenails
and slowly moves
back
and
forth,
wondering if he will fall
while reaching for
the box of Kleenex
rescued from the back
of a non-functioning SUV,
at first covered with mouse feces,
but then underneath functional enough
to capture
the dregs of his draining brain
as he pushes
and pushes
and pushes
so hard that
his ears pop.

I Didn’t Dare To Steal Your Dreams

You blame me,
us,
them,
for stealing your dreams.

“How Dare You!”
you shout,
face twisted, contorted
into emotion.

Sadly, no one told you,
no one guided you,
to know,
no one can steal your dreams.

Just you,
and only you,
can let your dreams,
hopes,
desires,
visions,
slip away.

You can blame others
all you want,
as loud as you want,
but the truth is this:
You’ve lost your dreams?
That’s on you.

Micro-Garbage or Micro-Trash Urban Dictionary

Thanks to my daughter’s use of “micro-garbage”, I made a submission to Urban Dictionary. Even if they don’t approve it, here’s the definition!

Micro-garbage, micro-trash in urban dictionary

Micro-garbage, aka micro-trash: Small pieces of plastic and other non-biodegradable litter and garbage that annoyingly show up even in forests, beaches, parks, and gardens. Examples include cig butts; bottle tops; plastic tape from cardboard boxes; gum wrappers; broken glass; fast food anything (wrappers, cups, lids, straws, styrofoam containers, condiment packages).  Take a deep look at any nature setting and see how many small pieces of garbage litter the ground and plants. (Then, pick it up!)

Examples of micro-garbage in a sentence:

The wildflower patch was so full of micro-garbage that we couldn’t enjoy the beauty until we’d picked up the junk.

My walk on the park trail was disturbed by the micro-trash littering the bushes.

By the end of our walk in the woods, our pockets and backpacks were stuff with micro-garbage.

She laughed at my nature-loving attitude, saying: “Your yard is full of micro-garbage!”

Doubt Your Doubters, Negate Your Nay-Sayers: IMprov Prose

Have you ever had the experience of being certain you are doing what God inspired you to do and someone came up and told you that you should be doing something else with your life? How did it make you feel? Did it confuse you? Did it make you frustrated and angry? Did you feel contention? Or that you were being derailed? Did you question yourself? Did you question your own inspiration? Did you doubt?

This happened to me recently, and I have to admit that it was one of the most emotionally painful experiences of my life! I’m certain this person had good intentions, but it hurt. What they did was tell me about something that concerned them, then insisted that Marnie and I spread the word about the issue they were concerned about: Lift up a voice of warning! Use your social media and communication skills and experience to educate and warn others about this awful danger!

Unfortunately for them, as soon as they brought up the subject, I felt like throwing up. The issue was not new to me, and I’d already resolved how I’d deal with it. But their pushy insistence that I pay attention to this vital issue and DO SOMETHING NOW! raised contention in my heart. It didn’t feel good, and it was not something I wanted to be involved with at all.

Unfortunately for me, it made me doubt what I am about.

Process Steps to Recognize and Avoid Doubt and Contention

Through this negative experience, I learned several truths about dealing with doubt and contention that I think can be good guideposts for all of us.
  1. Recognize that, as soon as you feel inspired to do something, forces will gather to get you to doubt and NOT to do something. It could be a direct command from a spouse, parent, family member, leader, friend: “Don’t do that. You’re waisting your time.” It could be a suggestion: “That’s good, but you could do _____ instead.” Or people will come up with any number of reasons why you can’t or shouldn’t do something. Anticipate the naysayers, and you’ll be prepared to overcome them.
  2. If you are certain you are on the path that Heavenly Father has inspired you to be on, know what that path is. Marnie and I have recently come up with a fairly strong mission statement about what we’re supposed to be doing. After floating around for awhile, we realized what we are to do deals with helping others find peace and joy in nature, hear God’s messages in nature, and then express that peace and joy creatively. You can read more about Spirit Tree Farms mission statement here. Because of that knowledge, I knew as soon as this person started telling me what I should do, (because it was a contentious political subject that I didn’t want to be involved in,) that was not the right thing for me to do.
  3. The topics we’re passionate about do not have to be an either / or situation. It’s not a “better than” situation. Our passions — our purposes — are just different. This person is committed and concerned about this particular political topic. In fact, it might be a great topic for Marnie’s Front Porch Sense blog, which deals with politics. Other people might be concerned about the food bank, or about native plants and wildflowers, or about unemployment and making sure everybody has jobs, or about more effective ways to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ and His message, or about exercise and good health, or about any number of other things.
    Isn’t it great that we live in a world that has so many options and so many important topics we can be involved in? My mistake in answering this person’s thoughts was to negate and demean what they had said by saying things like: “I won’t make any difference” or “I don’t want to waste my time with that.” That immediately put them on the defensive, feeling that I thought that their passion was not important.
  4. Feel how a topic makes you feel. If somebody tells you to do something, pause, and feel how it makes you feel in your soul. When this person brought up this topic and told me I needed to do something about it, I felt and knew immediately that, because of the contention, anger, and nauseous feeling that I had, that it was not a topic I needed to be involved in. It was okay to be aware of it, but I didn’t need to spend my efforts doing what this person wanted me to do.
  5. Be resolved in what you want to do and what you are inspired to do, and express that up front. It wasn’t until very deep in the conversation that I realized how strong my resolve was to do what I needed to do (see #2 above). This person actually did me a favor because, in sparking that deep realization, I discovered that I had not been as passionate and as energetic in doing what I was inspired to do as I needed to be.
  6. Don’t argue about it. At the start of our discussion, I immediately came up with several reasons why I shouldn’t or couldn’t or wouldn’t do what this person had asked me to do or had suggested that I do. The reasons were logical and well thought out. But, later on, because they are a skilled arguer, they threw those same reasons back in my face. When I said that I was going to do something else, they derisively said: “Oh, like go plant blueberries?” That hurt my feelings. It made me angry and it made me distrust them. In fact right now I’m working through not even wanting to be around this person anymore, and not trusting their friendship at all. Don’t give people the opportunity to turn your words against you.
  7. In the same vein, recognize how you have been inspired by Heavenly Father to do certain things, and just say that. It wasn’t until well into the argument and conversation that I finally got to the point of saying “Obviously, you feel inspired to do this thing. I feel inspired by Heavenly Father to do what we are doing at Spirit Tree Farms. It’s not better than or worse than, it’s just different.” And once I said that, the arguement and contention — and my own doubt and confusion –dissolved.
    I once wrote an on-line dating article about how it’s okay to say no. The principles in that “Just Say No!” article are valid here. When we give reasons for not doing something or for doing something, we give other people the opening to argue and tell us that we’re wrong. It’s like a salesperson overcoming objections. But when we say “I don’t feel that this is what I’m inspired to do right now. I feel inspired to do this other thing!” then nobody can argue against our feelings. The argument ends.

Increasing My Resolve, Doubting My Doubts

Despite the fact that I’m still a little angry and hurt about our discussion, I’m also grateful that it happened. The arguement, resolution, doubt, and pondering about the topic and my response helped me realize how strongly I feel about what our mission is:
“We teach Nature observation so people can hear and feel and experience God’s love and messages in Nature. As they do, we show them, by example, how to let Nature inspire their own unique creativity.” Mission Statement: What We Do At Spirit Tree Farms

I also feel strongly about where that inspiration comes from, and so it was like a renewal of my testimony about my purpose. I don’t doubt. And the arguement actually is motivating me to do more. Because as I was sitting in my rocking chair, getting ready to watch a sports event on TV, I realized, through this discussion, that, although I was passionate about this topic, I hadn’t done a lot recently to move forward with what Heavenly Father had asked me and inspired me to do. For all the anger and contention this discussion and criticism brought into my house and my soul, it ended up being a positive, because it motivated me to work harder at what I know I should be doing.

And that’s a good thing.

And now I’m even more motivated to go plant blueberries and connect with the Earth!

Reconnecting with Earth: Shoeless in grass and white crownbeards

Don’t Doubt Your Purpose In Nature