Category: Religion

Christmas e-card/video unabridged too lengthy rehearsal thing, with Nem and myself

Alex / / Alex, Audio, Nem Nem Niamh, Religion, Songs, Video

Enjoy the following linked to video, in which I sang something I may have invented and/or imitated after hearing a wonderful rendition of Amazing Grace (not to the usual tune) which I heard on the radio.* The melody is a portmanteau of two or three melodies.

I have not bothered editing out the parts and time you may not have time for. In fact, I added some. Essential captions follow this link to the video file:

http://home.ussins.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/2016-12-18__02-00-42_AM_christmas_ecard_video_thing.mp4

–and embedded video player which may not show up in syndication–the captioned verses are what I sing in the video. Words of final verse by yours truly.

But then people will think you’re taller than you are. It’s okay, I’ll just tell them you’re standing on a stool.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saves a wanton mess like me
I once was lost, and still am lost
Am blind and yet I see

Through many dangers, snares and toils
I have already come
‘Twas grace that brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed

I mixed up some verses. But that’s okay.

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to grieve
And grace my heart to sing
For him whose death is my rebirth
The ever-living spring.

*what I heard on the radio was performed by a BYU choir on December 16th 2016 at 8:30 PM; it was magnificent and moving. I’m going to look it up and get a recording of it–and thereby also learn whether I made this song up or not. If I made this up, it validates my theory that composing can consist of remembering songs incorrectly.

Mago and the Spirit of God

Alex / / Alex, Mago Elf Liam, Religion

I might have written this down, but I don’t think I did.

When he was possibly four years old, I prayed with Mago at bed time. I wish I clearly remembered the context and statements, but it was something to this effect: I asked him what he felt, and he explained that he felt Jesus’ love.

The following Sunday, he wanted to make a statement in front of the congregation at church. I took him up to the pulpit and held him to the microphone. He mildly stated:

“I felt Jesuses’ love . . .”

That was that.

Teeth Temple

Alex / / Alex, Nem Nem Niamh, Religion

Oh this poor neglected blog. And still so many posts at social media I mean to copy here 🙁

But these utterances I feel quite compelled to write down.

Nem, before saying goodnight (with my replies, and the conversation), sadly and very tenderly, almost in tears:

“Dada?”
“Yes?”
“When my tooth comes out, I won’t be able to make the temple with my tongue anymore.”
“Well, you can make it other ways.”
“No, I put my tongue down like this, and that’s the bottom of the building, and the gap in my teeth is that tall, what do you call it?”
“Steeple.”
“So I won’t be able to make that anymore.”
“You know the conference center has a lot of wide steeples. It’s a huge building in Salt Lake where people go to listen to conference.”
“But I won’t be able to make the temple anymore.”

I’ve never known any soul so very sweet and tender. When she hears tragic stories about people, she simply feels their experiences as her own; she is devastated. I have tasted the fruit of the Tree of Life. This little one leads me on to the tree. The fruit is sweet.

Tangent: so much hilarity in videos playing imagination and goofing off with Nem are due here. ASAP…

Nem’s Endearments as Guardian of the Peace

Alex / / Alex, Nem Nem Niamh, Religion

I’ve neglected to repay thanks for a certain miracle, so I’m glad that the following, which so easily writes itself, reminds me that I ought to.

Every evening that she can, Nem* exchanges Eskimo and butterfly kisses with me, followed by a (rather funny) thing she calls “Smooshy Eyes,” which is to stare intently into my eyes as she smashes her nose against mine and tilts her head back and forth (and I believe she’s said her Grandma Betsy invented this, though I really wonder), and then lastly, she kisses her hands, extends them toward my heart, exhales as she flutters her fingers, and says “Twinkle Heart! Good night, I love you, sweet every color dreams, I love you!–” etc.

On several occasions as she has done this, she’s added explanations such as: “The twinkles go into your heart, and remind you to love me.”

Me, to Tia, this morning: [Something blah blah frustrated probably unnecessarily unpleasant query something, some other maybe unduly unpleasant query something.]
Nem: (mildly stern) Daddy, stop fighting. Remember: (clearly enunciated) ‘Twinkle Heart.’

I laugh.

Nem: (as in: ‘what’s funny?’) What?
Me: Okay, Nem.

I laugh more.

Nem: What?
Me: That was very good of you, Nem.
Nem: (mildly stern) Twinkle Heart.

I laugh more.

Duly and perfectly instructed, little one.

—
*So nicknamed, and my daughter for whom I wept for joy when I was surprised to learn that Tia would give birth to her, a girl, a little girl sent to me!–and so soon (or at this writing), Nem is six years old!

FOUND: Divine Intervention

Alex / / Alex, Religion

Maybe two months ago, I accidentally deleted the boot sector (partition table) of my computer’s hard drive in the process of installing a new drive. What this means is that all of our data, though still intact, was impossible to access. Billions of bytes and many years of personal correspondence, photographs, creative artworks finished or in development (by me and by Tia).

I always keep two backups on separate physical media (a minimum best practice!), but in the process (it’s involved) I had destroyed access to both backups as well.

Ordinarily, various free or commercial tools can rediscover or rebuild a boot sector. But there were two difficult technical catches here: 1) The data was on a striped RAID array; one piece of data is on a first drive, the other piece of data is on a second drive; this array was also destroyed and would need to be rebuilt. 2) The data was in a truecrypt partition split over these drives. Truecrypt partitions are designed to be inaccessible without the “keys”, which were now either difficult to find or destroyed.

(Even the FBI cannot crack, and in some cases cannot prove the existence of, a well-made truecrypt container.)

I managed to non-destructively reassemble the RAID array, and after carefully making a sector-for-sector backup of the array, I scanned the backup. I found the operating system (Windows) and programs etc. partition quickly enough. I didn’t at first find anything indicating the truecrypt partition with our valuable data.

I tried many careful recovery techniques that “should” have worked, but increasingly, it seemed maybe impossible.

Now something else. A few weeks ago we vacated to the Northeast for my brother’s wedding (Yay!) After arriving home I soon realized my cell phone was nowhere. Tia called airlines, we scoured the house – nowhere.

This phone has pictures and videos of my kids on it that I never copied to my computer before losing it. This morning I realized this and pointed this out to God, who of course doesn’t need this pointed out to Him, but He is entirely about infinitely filling the universe with endless, countless babies. Children play on His feelings.

Dear God, if it is your will, return my cell phone to me. It has important pictures and videos of my kids on it.

Not one minute after uttering the prayer, I thought of and checked the obvious place (too obvious, embarrassingly obvious) and found my phone.

Hmm, I said to myself. That bait worked pretty well.

Guess where I tried this bait next?

This same day I got our data back. All of it, completely intact.

(I know that many ask the same and see no result. God restores everything good, only it happens on His time – which may mean the next life.  Or this life – case in point.  I thank Him for this!)

Next is a much more conservative data backup regime, and copying those pictures and videos of my kids..

Admiration and comprehension

Alex / / Alex, Mago Elf Liam, Nem Nem Niamh, Religion, Tia

At potty time, Nem-nem, making a situational comparison, declares of her absent brother, simply:

Nin-an. Poop. Big.

I tell Nem I’ll be right back, go to her brother’s room where he is settling in for bed time, and only repeat this as it was spoken; it is immediately understood. Mago bursts into fits of giggles, Tia laughs.

As Nem is later getting ready for bed, she babbles, and Mago, trying for Nem’s attention but failing, recites “facts” rather like the exaggerated ones we hear about fish..

Ah, these are the things that get at a father’s heart, stirring imaginations of a child’s future accomplishments..

Meanwhile, back at the church..

This afternoon as we drove home from church (I was at the wheel), Tia asked the kids about their Sunday School lessons.  She asked Nem (who is 2 years old at this writing) what her lesson in Nursury was about.  In reply Nem babbled something that sounded to me as if it had the words “hands” and “pencil” in it – drawing? – but Tia and I don’t understand.  Tia runs a check:

Tia: Did you talk about Jesus?
Nem: Yes.
Tia: Did you talk about families?
Nem: Yes.
Tia: Did you talk about hippopotumuses?
Nem: (a bit incredulously) No.

Through the Veil

Alex / / Religion

Grandpa Clark (Riley Garner) has died, in the hospital, of old age (99) and pneumonia; he’s passed on to the next life.

My history with him is mostly withdrawn, sometimes affectionate, and often very cantankerous or even worse. I had a very similar experience with his passing as I did with his daughter, my mother-in-law Joan (with whom I have a similar history): circumstance taught him, exceedingly stubborn as he was, to accept help. For all the following, I would be boasting if the point was only that I helped him. The last day he was home, the morning of the day we later realized his oxygen supply was low (he had a breath mask and cable with oxygen tank) and he needed to go to the hospital, I was called by him to get help to head on his walker to the bathroom, and a while after he let himself into the bathroom he called urgently for me, and I came to see that he’d only just made it, but leaving a terrible mess anyway. In my weak first attempts to help it became obvious I wasn’t doing enough, and he was too winded, weak and agitated (and I didn’t know it at the time, but too short on oxygen) to help himself. “HELP! HELP!” he cried, trying to raise himself up. After cleaning up, after the long slow journey back to the living room he thanked me for the help, and this wasn’t the grandiose, over-the top thank you I’ve received when I finally get around to doing something like mowing the lawn. (As heroic as that actually is for me.) It was just a humble, dignified thank you.

All the time I’ve lived here in his basement, it’s been like there’s a dark cloud upstairs, and only a bearable light downstairs, for my shame that I have to live in his basement, for all my history of unhappiness with him, for how little he’s let me in, and I don’t think he’s even known how to, and for the futility of my largely unknowledgable attempts to connect and repair my damage with him. But the morning that he didn’t know he was saying goodbye to his home for the final time, Grandpa learned that he could trust me with the worst of messes, and that it was no mar on his dignity at all, and that I’m glad and able to help him. But it wasn’t just Grandpa that learned that.

Was it a day or so later? – I visited him in the hospital, after the doctors had said he could only have about a week to live. They didn’t know they were dealing with a Clark. A whole day of mortal battle to a person of average constitution is just breakfast for a Clark – he hung on for several weeks and the sickness cleared despite everyone’s expectations meanwhile. But I thought I wouldn’t see him again – and I only saw him briefly once again after that, while he was only coherent enough to know I was there – but I made a video recording of him holding his great-grandson, my son’s hand in farewell, and then I took his hand and looked at him in farewell. Through the full breath mask latched over his entire face, he looked at me in clear awareness, and the words came easily for him, spoken by him as a revelation to himself as much as to me:

“I love you! I love you!”

The words were easy to return, and true. It had been later in the day after I’d helped with his mess at home, after they took him to the hospital, that I came home to the house after work and the cloud was lifted. It wasn’t just a physical mess I had cleaned, and not just his mess either. It was my mess too. It took a lot of water and soap, many towels and washcloths, and a lot of straining and lifting to clean up thoroughly. I changed him into new undergarments and new clothes, before he was ushered through doors into rooms where he waited to pass the final curtain, reaching to meet his maker, who forgets every mess, who fills the house with light, top to bottom.

Smiley, Ma-ma, They won’t let us give up

Alex / / Alex, Mago Elf Liam, Nem Nem Niamh, Religion, Tia

Last night as I read a book to Mago for bed time he noticed a small smiley-face sticker I had put in the center of the face of my watch. I’d put that sticker there as a reminding device a week or so ago because it came as sudden inspiration to the question: how can I keep myself on track, on duty, and remember what I’m supposed to do? (I can be quite distracted, and even my very simple daily list gets neglected).

Mago: You have a smiley face on your watch.

Me: That’s to remind me to be nice to you, because when I’m nice to you, I’m really being nice to Heavenly Father, because he wants me to be nice to you.

Mago: And when it’s frowning, you’re mean.

Nem-nem started a few days ago to clearly say “Oomm-a, ma-ma, ma-ma, ma-ma, ma, ma-ma..”. And it refers to Tia. One evening Tia left Nem-nem in the crib to go to sleep, and left the room, but Nem-nem didn’t sleep, and pulled herself standing up beside the rail and called:

“Ma-ma, ma-ma, ma-ma, ma-ma, ma-ma..”

Reports Tia – I copy this from a web site for her siblings to keep in touch with Tia’s parents on a mission:

..the other day as [Mago] was giving me a hard time, I whined and crawled into his bed and complained,

“[Mago], I give up, I don’t want to be a mommy any more. I just want to be Tia and have friends, and go shopping, and do my own thing!”

And he said in a very sympathetic tone,

“Mommy, you can’t give up. You don’t have friends, you just have a boy and a girl!”

He helped me make biscuit dough and tasted it, and said “Ick, it tastes like grownup skin!”

A little bland and salty? And this is an apparent contrast with baby skin, which evidently does not have an unpleasant taste.

I didn’t want him to watch a video segment on insects because it was so gross I was afraid it would give him nightmares, and he said “Mom, put it on and don’t say ew!”

Tia’s sister Janae related having the same experience that same day:

…Just tonight I [said] i was about to give up being a mom.

“I have no more Mom energy…i think i’m just going to quit.”

[My boy] gave me a kiss on the cheek and said,

“Please keep trying…you have to be a mom …because you ARE a mom!”

He’s right; It’s a job you just can’t get out of. Hang in there, little Mommy… We’re all in it together!

Kids update, bad guys revisited

Alex / / Alex, Mago Elf Liam, Nem Nem Niamh, Religion, Songs, Tia

Tia reports that last night getting Nem-nem ready for bed, while Nem-nem was fussing and hungry she cried her own nickname (Nem-nem) – I guess again in self-pity as she had done when on an earlier day she cried her own first name. I thought I’d reported that last here, but it was in an email, so I’ll back-post that (link). I wish I’d heard it – I was putting Mago to bed.

Nem-nem is crawling quite a bit now. And still smiling a lot. I play a game with her and Mago where I hold her facing away, and slowly rotate her toward him, saying “Nem-nem-nem-nem-nem-nem-nem-nem..” until she fully faces him, at which point I brightly exclaim “Hallo!” – which makes them both smile and giggle.

Mago has learned from me to tickle Nem-nem’s belly by digging his forehead into it, which makes her squeal and laugh.

I’m fascinated by how Nem-nem explores objects with her hands – the other day she was weaving a ribbon through her fingers and tugging at it from either hand, and tugging at my necklace – and the whole time she does this she watches other things, such as Mago running back and forth setting the table.

We are guilty of the error of parents who more take for granted (ignore) the marvels of life and growing that they first discharged on, well, their firstborn. I’ve read about second children who grow up to resent that there are virtually no early photographs or videos of them in family albums. I’m proud that we’re at least resisting that error (I may want to say travesty) to a degree, and writing some things from her down, and so far she has some photographs of herself from birth to her current age of –

I’m sorry, she’s almost three-fourths of a year old? And Mago is 3 years old in two months? It just isn’t right. Stages of Eden should crawl longer. Except for the days when Tia feels stuck at home with nothing to do but care for wild children who rob her of sleep at night and whose day time naps very seldom synchronize (to allow her a nap).

I plan to get photos of the kids back-posted here and will send links when I do (if you’re signed up for notices, that is). There are several recent videos of them playing with each other or me or Tia (and many other videos we’ve never posted), and I’d describe them but I’m planning tommorrow morning to work at least toward getting the most recent few ready to post 🙂

And now for something completely different..

The Lord Commanded Nephi to cut off Laban’s head
Nephi didn’t want to, ‘cuz Laban would be dead
Laman and Lemuel said go ahead and try
The sword was lifted high and blood began to fly

I will go, I will do the things the Lord commands
I know the Lord provides a way: He wants me to obey
I will go, I will do the things the Lord commands
I know the Lord provides a way: He wants me to obey

My siblings wrote this verse revision or addition to the song “Nephi’s Courage” from the LDS Children’s songbook when I was a kid. I particularly appreciate its emphatic goriness and stupid glibness. Yes, Laban would be dead, indeed. And Laman and Lemeul are urging Nephi to kill Laban. That isn’t in the scripture – they were very cowardly when it came to Laban (or anything) and weren’t with him then, but it works in a stupidly funny way, so beyond that I digress.

Among the variety of music I’m constantly collecting I’ve ripped some CDs we have of the LDS Children’s songbook rendered by a small orchestral and singing children ensemble. (They also have recordings without singing and I prefer it either way depending.) Recently I came accross this one, Nephi’s Courage, while working, and as the familiar music began I fully expected to hear children start singing the above verse. I had to shake myself from it. No, that’s not a real verse. They aren’t going to sing that. It still happens any time I play the song again.

Mago will appreciate the revelation of this verse (as he does the relation from the very scripture) when he’s old enough to memorize and sing music. He’ll sometimes bellow and babble along to music – this is fun with musical theatre – and he can match a pitch.

Bad guys, More greetings, The Love of God revisited

Alex / / Alex, Mago Elf Liam, Nem Nem Niamh, Religion, Tia

Yesterday Tia reported that, while listening to a kid’s tape (recorded by and featuring my brother-in-law Marvin) dramatizing principles etc. from the Book of Mormon, Mago asked her about Nephi and what the name of the bad guys was again. Laman and Lemuel, she repeated to him. Referring to a thick foam fencing sword he got for Christmas (which he had begged for some time before Christmas to have), he said:

“When they come to our house, I’m going to whack them with my sword!”

As Tia explained last night to Mago that Nephi didn’t kill Laman and Lemeul (and Mago raised the sad point that these mean men were Nephi’s brothers), but Nephi did kill Laban by cutting off his head (and Mago understood the reasons offered for all of this) , Mago then said of Laban, speaking as pretending (he knows these people aren’t around), he said –

“And I’ll whack off his head!”

I believe the Lord placed these stories at the front of the Book of Mormon because they make for the most dramatic and interesting family discussions (let alone entertaining).

On a recent morning Mago came into the bedroom where Tia and Nem-nem had just awakened for the morning, and Mago climbed into the bed to greet Nemmy. In chorus, at the very same time, Mago and Nemmy gave each other friendly greetings:

“Hiiiiiiiii.”

A week or so ago I picked up Nem-nem from the bed where, with Tia, she was asleep, to put Nem-nem in her crib. I cradled and rocked her in my arms while she slept, and lingered a long while – it is very rare that I get to hold her while she sleeps, because she is much harder to soothe than Mago was (and Tia has more of a gift for soothing Nemmy – I had more of a gift for soothing Mago). I looked at this little girl and thought of my family, these ties that are the Kingdom. I thought of my slacking in tending to my family – though I have improved a lot since Mago was a baby – and heartbroken for the wants of this little one I began praying for the charity to tend more to them. As soon as I had begun this prayer, she momentarily gave a great smile in her sleep. My prayer was in her dream, I knew it, and in an instant I was back to just a brief year ago holding Mago in his sleep, praying for charity, and in the moment I prayed for this he laughed, my prayer in his dream.

And he shall plant in the hearts of the children the promises made to the fathers, and the hearts of the children shall turn to their fathers. – D&C 2:2

Dream

Alex / / Alex, Religion

[EDIT 07/21/2015: I made clarifying edits to the text, and I also add this introduction. This is my record of a dream I had one morning (I assume the date of this entry) involving late Grandpa Riley Clark, the youthful man who approaches in the dream. For background, he often kindly barked this very statement to people, including me. My relationship with him had regrettable sore friction at times, so I took this dream as a merciful (and very amusing) statement from above.]

It is Judgment Day. I stand before the pleading bar of the Almighty, to state my cause for entering the Kingdom. The Savior asks the countless throng of God’s children:

“Is there anyone who has ought against this man, or reason he should not enter my Kingdom?”

A man comes forward, youthful and bright, with a sparkle in his eye. He holds a cane, for what reason is not apparent, as he has a healthy and strong frame. The cane has so many stamped coin souvenirs plastered onto it, from his travels. He approaches me, stops, looks at me, and barks:

“Get something to eat!”

He winks. He steps back down with nothing more to say. Neither does my Savior have any more to say.

I am set down for the feast of entrance. There in the abundance are the grapes, even the grapes of the wine press of the wrath of Almighty God, restored to the vine, never to be trampled again.

I eat the grapes.