"...but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer." 3 Nephi 22:8

Wednesday, November 27, 2013


'Tis the week we celebrate gratitude and I have a great deal to appreciate and be thankful for. The list is endless, when I am willing and able to focus on blessings instead of challenges. For me, that takes effort, but is worthwhile and uplifting. I find that the list shifts and changes frequently depending on current life circumstances.

I often take so much for granted. I just expect my heart to beat and my lungs to provide me with essential oxygen. They always have and I hope that they always will. But for some people in the world, this is not so. Every breath may be a huge effort and when the heart beats this time, it will be their last. I am grateful for the automatic parts of my body that just function moment by moment, day by day round the clock.

This morning I pinched the tip of my finger in a closet door, reminding me that my nerves are also automatic. They just work. If I touch something cold or hot, the nerves quickly transmit that information to my brain, registering pain. What a blessing to feel pain. If I felt no pain, how long would my hand remain burning on a stove burner? My brain also functions constantly. I really try to turn it off sometimes, but it is constantly processing information. When I try to think of 'nothing,' my mind becomes busy thinking, "I am trying to think of nothing." I am grateful for my brain and nerves that never take a vacation from serving me.

My eyes see and my ears hear. My nose smells and my mouth tastes. I have been given the gift of language, which sometimes translates into the gift of gab. There are others who lack the ability to see, to hear, or to speak. I am grateful that my eyes see the beauties of the world, that my ears hear the music of life, that my mouth tastes the bitter and the sweet,

I expect my hands to work hard. I use them all the time. They function without much effort. They cook and sew, wash and clean up, write and type. When I see something that they need to do, they instantly get to work. I am reminded how much I use them when I attempt to sit motionless to avoid smearing drying nail polish. I almost cannot let them idle long enough. I am grateful for my hands.

My feet and legs also serve me well. I walk and climb stairs, every day. I can sit or stand. I can stretch and bend. They carry me through myriad of tasks without much effort or complaint. When they are weary, a few moments rest revive them and we are off again. I am grateful for my feel and legs.

I am grateful for the beauties of the world. I often miss the opportunity to see them in the busyness of life. I love the blue of the sky and the green of the grass. The roar of an ocean brings me feelings of peace and contentment. Flowers gladden my heart. Fresh garden vegetables put grocery produce to shame. I am grateful for the raspberry canes in my back yard that we enjoy all year round.

Technology amazes and blesses me every day. I would be lost without computers, phones, cars, appliances, airplanes, and the internet. I am grateful that I can pay my bills, buy an airline ticket, talk to my family, and research information quickly in the comfort of my home with a computer.

I am grateful to live in The United States of America. Our country may be less than perfect and facing multiple challenges, but it is probably the best option in our current world. I am grateful for that measure of freedom that I enjoy because of where I live.

I am grateful for my family who do all they can to build and contribute to the good of this world. My life is blessed by their goodness and their example every day. They are my teachers and my guardians as I walk life's journey. How sad I would be to be alone in this world.

I am grateful to have a testimony of Heavenly Father and of His Beloved Son Jesus Christ. I am grateful for prayer and faith and hope that strengthen me every day. I am grateful for The Atonement which shines forth a beacon to light my way back to Christ when I have lost my way. I am grateful for prophets, scriptures, and a myriad of resources that help me work my way back home.

Miracles are real.  I believe in them. I look for them, I pray for them. I am grateful for miracles.

Today and every day I appreciate all the things that I have been blessed with. Thank you Heavenly Father/

Monday, November 25, 2013


I just returned from an adventure into another world for a few wonderful days. Because my daughter who lives very far away was ready to have a baby, I traveled to spend time with her and her family. It was a great experience for me to be with this family, in their home and in their lives. I am grateful to have been welcomed and greeted with hugs and smiles.

My eight year old grandson willingly gave up his bedroom for the duration of my stay. He slept on the floor of his parent's bedroom. His room became mine and he was happy to share.

The highlight of the trip was the safe arrival of a sweet, adorable granddaughter, safe, sound, and healthy. She was instantly adored by all, including her two brothers and two year old sister. Tears were shed when the same eight year old boy who shared his room learned that his baby sister and mother would not be coming home from the hospital as soon as he expected. Even though he understood the need for another night in the hospital, his little heart longed for them to be home.

The smell and feel of a new baby is like none other that I can think of. Perhaps it is because it reflects so much love in so many ways. The love of Heavenly Father who gives us life and breath. It is He who allows us the privilege of coming to earth, to learn and grow. It is also Heavenly Father who encourages family life and blesses our homes with the sweetness of babies. They come to this earth so helpless and dependent for everything that their little bodies do not know how to do automatically. What an evidence of His love and trust to send a new spirit into our homes.

It is difficult for me to describe the feelings I experienced following the birth of each new child that blessed my home. I am not sure that current language expresses accurately the pure love, joy, and peace that I felt. Perhaps those moments are a brief glimpse into heaven.

The love that a new baby brings as part of their persona is also very real. Even though the demands of new life are huge, time consuming, and sometimes exhausting, the love that encircles a new baby is all encompassing. An infant cannot express love in words nor demonstrate it by deed. yet the love just is and the love within the family grows. Even a tempestuous toddler can feel that love and quickly understands the need for gentleness, tenderness, and quietness. Baby kisses replace boisterous behavior.

I was reminded that life among children is very different than the life that I currently lead. I jumped on the trampoline, without breaking any part of my person. I played dozens of games of  Don't Break the Ice. I also played Don't Spill the Beans, Cootie, Trouble and a new game whose name escapes me. I listened to my grandsons play the piano and played Sarasponda over and over. I learned about Ninjago and General Grievious. I listened to The Wheels on the Bus and Five Little Monkeys Teasing Mr. Crocodile. I watched numerous videos of Thomas the Tank Engine.

I was blessed with hugs and kisses goodbye and goodnight. I read stories and listened as stories were read. I played Sudoku with a bright eight year old boy who also wanted to learn about crochet. I soon found myself crocheting a scarf for both of my grandsons, who received them with joy. I played with little ones at the Science Museum and held my granddaughter who was both thrilled and terrified by multiple rides in the elevator. I even drove to and from the hospital accompanied by my grandsons, which was mildly terrifying to me. But thanks to cell phones and expert son-in-law navigation, we arrived safely back at home.
Oklahoma is a beautiful place, but mostly for me it is beautiful because of my family who live there. They make the world a better place every day by the people that they choose to be and the things that they choose to do. The good they do and the service that is part of every day life touch so many without them even recognizing it. They just do good because they are good. And for me it was such a blessing to be encircled in the goodness of their lives.

Sunday, November 17, 2013


I am in need of a miracle. I have prayed for it for many months and continue to ask for it every day. It has been in my mind and my heart and my prayers almost constantly. At times I am discouraged a bit because the miracle I seek with all of my heart has not yet arrived. Sometimes I also remember to pray for patience as I wait for this miracle. Sometimes I apologize for my lack of patience. I also ask Heavenly Father for a greater ability to trust in Him and in His timing. And I wait.

But I do not give up because I believe in Miracles!

I wonder sometimes if Heavenly Father tires of my constant requests. Does He consider it nagging? When He sees me on my knees or hears my silent pleas, does He cringe and shudder and wonder why are you here again?

One of my favorite chapters in the Book of Mormon is Mormon chapter 9 because I am reminded that Heavenly Father is a God of miracles. He has always been a God of Miracles and because He is an unchanging God, miracles have not ceased.

19 And if there were miracles wrought then, why has God ceased to be a God of miracles and yet be an unchangeable Being? And behold, I say unto you he changeth not; if so he would cease to be God; and he ceaseth not to be God, and is a God of miracles.

20 And the reason why he ceaseth to do miracles among the children of men is because that they dwindle in unbelief, and depart from the right way, and know not the God in whom they should trust.

21 Behold, I say unto you that whoso believeth in Christ, doubting nothing, whatsoever he shall ask the Father in the name of Christ it shall be granted him; and this promise is unto all, even unto the ends of the earth.

I love these words. When I find doubt and fear crowding in and faith failing, I open the Book of Mormon and read and ponder these words. I can think over and over about these words and plant them into my heart. These words feed my faith and help to put fear farther away from me.

27 O then despise not, and wonder not, but hearken unto the words of the Lord, and ask the Father in the name of Jesus for what things soever ye shall stand in need. Doubt not, but be believing, and begin as in times of old, and come unto the Lord with all your heart, and work out your own salvation with fear and trembling before him.

Again I am reminded to 'doubt not but be believing' as I ask Heavenly Father for what I need. I am also reminded to ask Him with all my heart. I am not sure how to do that, but I feel like I am certainly trying to lay my whole heart open as I plead, petition, request, and ask Him in faith.

Instruction is also given that I must work out my own salvation. The use of the word 'work' is also very interesting to me. As I ponder this I understand that I must do all that I can to receive the needed miracle. Sometimes there may be little or nothing that I can do, but continue to pray and fast and ask. But for some miracles, hard work is required. Unpleasant, difficult things may be necessary as part of the 'work' necessary for miracles. "Work may entail study, asking questions, seeking for the truth, and even standing for what is right. Thankfully the Holy Ghost can help me find the answers needed in this department.

I am not giving up! I need a miracle. I will continue to ask, pray, plead, fast, seek, and knock until the miracle comes. I may not even recognize it at first when it comes, because sometimes our miracles do not look like what Heavenly Father sends. The packaging may be different, but the result is still the same. Sometimes part of receiving a miracle is recognizing and being grateful for the miracle given.

I will continue on my quest because I believe in miracles!

Monday, November 11, 2013


This is the month of gratitude when many of us try to put more effort into recognizing and expressing our gratitude for the things that we consider to be blessings in our lives. Some post a comment on Facebook every day during the month of November to acknowledge and share with others the things they are grateful for. Some say extra gratitude prayers. Others make lists or displays that draw attention to things that bless their lives. Some family members share something that they appreciate at dinner every night. Some keep a gratitude journal.

There are many ways in which to acknowledge our blessings. I do not think the process matters as much as the actual recognition and expression of words of thank you. The scriptures teach us that it offends our Heavenly Father when we are not grateful. I must say I cannot blame Him. He has given us everything, right down to the very air we breathe. We really own nothing. In essence, we are squatters on His land. It must seem disappointing to Him to hear us whine, complain, and bellyache when things do not go our way.

In thinking about gratitude, it is possible that many parents have a small understanding of the ingratitude of children. When we have given our best or our all to our children, we may find that in their eyes it was not enough or perhaps it just wasn't good enough. Or it was not the right size or color. Maybe the timing was a little off. Maybe we simply misunderstood their need or desire. Our offering may be met with a bucket of cold water instead of appreciation.

Some years ago I watched and listened as a teenager bad mouthed a parent. His words were biting and unkind. This mouthy teen threw disrespect and disregard eagerly at the parent who was present. This teen showed great disrespect for the religious beliefs of the parents who had raised him and given him all they had to offer. With cruelty, it was thrown into the parent's face. This parent was kind, patient, and silent as torrents of rudeness poured forth, until I could stand it no more. I said very few words, but told this arrogant teen that no parent who has done the best that they could do appreciates hearing what I was hearing. I do not suppose it made one bit of difference to that teenager, but I believe what I said to be true.

Sometimes I think I am like that mouthy, arrogant teenager expressing my dissatisfaction to Heavenly Father who has allowed me stewardship over some of His things. Instead of appreciating His generosity and trust, I challenge and question His methods and His timing. I presume to know better than He what is needed and how to fix my world. I express and display my impatience and dissatisfaction freely.

How it must hurt Him to listen.

What a blessing that in His perfection, Heavenly Father is infinitely kind and patient. What a miracle it is that because He knows me so well, He provided a Savior who willingly atoned for all my sins. Jesus Christ has already paid the price for my selfishness, my arrogance, my pride, my ingratitude and so much more. Even in my weakness and my sin, Christ says, "Come unto me." His arms are open wide, ready and waiting for me to choose to follow Him.

Today and everyday I am grateful to have a Heavenly Father who watches over me and blesses me in my unworthiness. I am grateful for the Savior Jesus Christ whose sacrifice and example shine as the sun before me. I am grateful for the whisperings of the Holy Ghost that calm and guide me. Today I am grateful for the hope that comes, because of the goodness of God.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Good and Evil

The world I live in can be very confusing to me, at times. I wonder who I can trust and who can be believed. I really do not enjoy listening to the news much because it seems to me that anyone and everyone can slant the news to their advantage. What do opinion polls really mean when questions can be so craftily slanted that they will get the wanted answer one way or another. I hear cruel and unkind words being thrown around as leaves in the wind. Discussions about who is a liar and who is not seem rampant.

It feels like almost everyone has an agenda and will go to any length imaginable to achieve their own goals. Few can even agree on the definitions of such words as truth, integrity, honesty, and character. Picking apart words and phrases is as common as picking apart character. Some have learned how to disagree with each other in their banter in cheerful and innocuous ways but many seem to be almost toxic in their discussions.

While reading in the Book of Mormon I was reminded of these words give centuries ago by prophets to help me as I try to discern truth. These words from Moroni chapter 7 teach how to judge good and evil perfectly.

12. Wherefore, all things which are good cometh of God: and that which is evil cometh of the devil; for the devil is an enemy unto God and fighteth against him continually, and inviteth and enticeth to sin, and to do that which is evil continually.
13. But behold, that which is of God inviteth and enticeth to do good continually; wherefore, every thing which inviteth and enticeth to do good, and to love God, and to serve him is inspired of God.
14. Wherefore, take heed, my beloved brethren, that ye do not judge that which is evil to be of God, or that which is good and of God to be of the devil.
15 For behold, my brethren, it is given unto you to judge, that ye may know good from evil; and the way to judge is as plain, that ye may know with a perfect knowledge, as the daylight is from the dark night.
16. For behold, the Spirit of Christ is given to every man, that he may know good from evil; wherefore, I show unto you the way to judge; for every thing which inviteth to do good, and to persuade to believe in Christ, is sent forth by the power and gift of Christ; wherefore ye may know with a perfect knowledge it is of God.
17. But whatsoever thing persuadeth men to do evil, and believe not in Christ, then ye may know with a perfect knowledge it is of the devil; for after this manner doth the devil work, for he persuadeth no man to do good, no, not one; neither do his angels; neither do they who subject themselves unto him. 
18. And now, my brethren, seeing that ye know the light by which ye may judge, which light is the light of Christ, see that ye do not judge wrongfully; for with that same judgement which ye judge ye shall also be judged. 

These words penetrated my heart as I have pondered them. When I am surrounded by people who seem to know how I should think and feel, scriptures tell me that I should listen to the Light of Christ. When others choose for me or seem to think that they know what is best for me, these scriptures tell me that I already have the Light of Christ and have the capacity to know for myself what is best for me.

When the language of governments and politics becomes ugly, cruel, and sarcastic, I do not need to have others interpret for me what I see and hear and how it makes me feel. When others belittle my thoughts and opinions and are certain they are right and I am wrong, these words from the Book of Mormon tell me that I have the capacity to judge and think for myself, assisted by the Light of Christ, which is given to every man.

What a blessing to be able to think and feel and choose for myself!

Sunday, November 3, 2013


Another Halloween has come and gone. And I cannot say that I really feel bad that it is over. I guess my age is showing because I have discovered that I am not really a big fan of Halloween anymore. It was even hard for me to make the effort to buy candy to give away to trick or treaters. But I did and I passed out candy for almost an hour and a half., then turned off my lights and was done. The candy was not quite all gone, but pretty close.

When I was in elementary school, both of my parents dressed up for Halloween. My Mother had a pretty terrific witch costume which she made for herself. She wore a black tar paper hat over her horsehair wig. Her black skirt, top, nylons, and shoes completed her attire. She used silly putty to create her crooked nose, added makeup and even I did not know who she was. My Mother worked for the local school district and visited schools and offices. When she came to school, I really had no idea it was her.

Dad had an amazing skeleton costume. He had painted a turtleneck sweater and pants with fluorescent paint in the shape of a skeleton. Add the gloves, socks and mask that covered his face also painted with skeletal bones and the skeleton was complete. In the dark, all anyone could see was a moving, walking, dancing, frightening skeleton. It was terrifying to me. I knew it was him. But it scared me to death. I hid from him more than once.

Dressed in costumes, my parents really enjoyed handing candy out to any trick or treaters brave enough to come close. My mother cackled her witch voice and many a frightened child fled. The realistic skeleton had a similar effect. They could usually coax the kiddies back into their lair with their treats.

My parents lived in a 'nice' neighborhood which was often considered to be a premium location for trick or treating. Most families gave what was considered "good" candy. Car loads of trick or treaters poured into their part of town. Even though Mom and Dad looked frightening, they gave away a ton of candy (350 children on average) to children who were never quite sure it was safe to come up on the porch.

As my parents aged and their health failed, I spent several Halloweens passing out candy at their home. They still enjoyed seeing and visiting with little ghosts and goblins. They would interact as much as they could and for as long as they could.

I have done a lot of Halloweens in my life time. I took my turns at trick or treating until either I or my parents determined that I was too old. I do not remember if I ever had a store bought costume or if I always just made my own. I think a purchased mask was fairly common when I was a child for many, but I think most of us just created our own costumes.

I really enjoyed Halloween when I had my own children. I made many a costume for our little ones. As they grew up, they often designed their own and I was an assistant creator. We used the things we had, mostly. I thought some of our creations were not only clever but looked pretty darn good. It was fun to take them trick or treating and show them off.

Trick or treating was mostly somewhat limited. When we lived in the country, we drove from neighbor to neighbor, visiting a dozen or more friends and family. We always visited both sets of grandparents when we lived close by. That was enough. The children were able to show off and grab just enough treats to enjoy. Candy did not last long, because there was not much of it in the first place. And that was great with all of us. One grandmother and several close friends made homemade goodies every year and we never worried a bit about eating them

In our town the new 'nice' neighborhood is blocked off from the main road to prevent unsafe traffic with children seeking candy in droves. I understand that they give out from 1200 to 1500 pieces of candy on Halloween. Car loads of trick or treaters are dropped off to fill their bags. The waiting cars line the main street for blocks and blocks.

Many organizations sponsor trunk or treat opportunities during the week of Halloween. They welcome all who come. But candy disappears quickly so many who have already cornered the candy market simply move onto new territory for more. It is a quest to get all the free candy possible.

Anyone who gives away a candy that isn't considered to be good enough may also get to hear that from the little decorated darlins' standing on their porch. Sometimes it feels like we are creating a great deal of greed.

We spend a lot of time trying to to teach our children to be careful of strangers. We caution them not to talk to people they do not know. We discourage them from going to the home of anyone who is a stranger. But on Halloween all this education is meaningless. We take them to the door of strangers and teach them to beg for candy. At this moment,

I am wondering about our wisdom!

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Playing the Piano

I have a very talented cousin that can play the piano flawlessly. She lives far away and I see her seldom. But when I do, it is a real treat. I do not know how young she was when she began to play the piano, but she has played for so many years that I consider her to be quite polished and expert. She has played for choirs to sing to, not an easy task I might add. She has played congregational music, piano solos, and accompaniment for other musicians. I love to hear her play.

I believe this friend has a real gift of music, but that does not mean she has not worked to acquire skill. She has worked hard and continues to practice her skill and mastery of the keyboard. Finger dexterity and speed disappear fairly quickly if practice is neglected. It takes effort and time to keep up with piano playing skills.

As I was reading one of my sweet cousins blog posts I felt great empathy for her. She was asked to play the piano for a group of children in a religious program for her congregation. Of course they would ask her, she is one of the best. She has done this many times before, so it is really not out of her comfort zone.

She made one small comment about the program. Tall children blocked her view of the person who was leading the singing children. She had to search for the chorister to know when to play. For the first time ever, she lost her place in the music. Her performance disappointed her. But I am certain any mistake she made went unnoticed by the audience, enjoying the spiritual message in word and song.

I was reminded of other musical flaws by myself and others. Our daughter played a piano solo in our Sacrament Meeting. She sat alone at the piano, well prepared and playing beautifully. Without warning, several sheets of music fluttered to the floor. She quickly retrieved them and carried on. She handled it well, but it was embarrassing.

A couple was asked to sing in Sacrament Meeting and chose a lovely, yet unfamiliar song about families. They had raised nine faithful children so they could truly sing this song with faith and testimony. They came to my house and rehearsed repeatedly. They brought me a tape recorder and cassette and helped me record the accompaniment so they could listen to it and rehearse on their own. They spent hours. We spent hours. They were totally prepared. We rehearsed just hours before they sang. It was beautiful and I knew now hard they had worked to create the feelings that this song evoked. As they stood to sing before the congregation, the wife was overcome with fear. All she could do was cry. Her husband did his best to carry forward as she wept, uncontrollably. She joined in for the last phrases of the song. No one else knew the sacrifice of their preparation.

I too have played the piano for a few Children's Sacrament Meeting Presentations. One in particular stands out in my memory today. We had a brand new chorister join primary in February. She had no idea how to lead music. She had a lovely singing voice, but really no musical experience whatsoever. She was willing to try. But it was a difficult year. She struggled. The children struggled. She declined help for a very long time. And she kept trying. As the scheduled program neared, she seemed to realize the need for help and was finally willing to learn a little about leading music.

We practiced the program the day before for an hour and a half plus a little. It was challenging and exhausting for everyone. But I could not see the chorister. No matter how I tried to impress on the mind of the leaders the need to be able to see the chorister, it seemed to fall on deaf ears. I was told repeatedly that the children were really following the piano anyway, after all she was not really leading. Minor adjustments were made and I could occasionally see an arm or hand waving.

To add interest to my experience, I was also told that the primary program was simply too long. We needed to speed up the tempo of the music. It needed to move more quickly and my assignment was to set the tempo of all the music. The children simply would follow the piano and the chorister was not skilled enough to set the tempo. Frustrated by not being able to see the chorister and the instructions to set the tempo much faster on all the songs, I again expressed the need to be able to see.

As I sat at the piano at the beginning of the program the next morning , I looked to see the chorister, and discovered I could not see her at all. Except the hair on the top of her head. For me this was not a good moment. All I could do was my best. I made a large mistake and played at the wrong moment. The congregation may not have noticed, but I wanted to drop into a hole in the ground. But all I could do was continue.Once or twice during this program of almost a full hour I could actually see a right hand waving.

I believe the chorister was thrilled with how things went for her, but I could not escape from the chapel fast enough when the program was over.

This post is for you cousin, who are so talented, and helped me remember that when we participate in music in front of other people, we open ourselves up to be seen in flawed ways!

Friday, November 1, 2013

The Warning Light

We loved our maroon grand caravan. We drove it all over town, into the mountains, to the ocean, and lots of places in between. It was sad to part with this old, worn out friend who took us to concerts, plays, and sporting events. I miss the power seats, weather center, and storage space. It did not matter where I was sitting, I was comfortable and felt safe mile after mile.

We bought our van used, after an exhaustive search for just the right van, not only locally, but in several cities much larger than ours. It felt like the right decision. One day, early in our ownership, I started the van to go somewhere and I heard a dinging sound. I was totally clueless to the meaning of this gentle ding. I had no idea if it was a good sound or a disastrous sound. I did not even know if the van might be unsafe to drive. Was something going to explode? Was some unknown part going to drop off while I was driving somewhere? Was it some signal for something that I needed to know?

The van came with a CD instruction manual, not one in written form. I had not listened to the CD and had no idea if the sound I heard would be explained on it or not. I turned off the van and sat for a moment, looking around at gauges and knobs, wondering what to do and feeling rather stupid. I started the van a second time, paying closer attention to the dashboard of the vehicle and. Priced that as the same dinging sound occurred, a small symbol looking like a gas pump lit up.

BINGO! I now understood what the warning sound meant. I was low on fuel. My gas tank had less than a quarter of a tank of gasoline.

What a relief. That was a situation I knew how to handle and I did.

Later as I pondered the warning signs of low fuel for our van, I thought about the need for me to have a similar warning system when my spiritual tank is running low. I believe it would simplify my life immensely if I were able to hear the gentle dinging that says, "You are getting close to be empty of spiritual reservoirs. It is time to refill your tank." I learned that the warning light remained on while the engine was running until I filled the tank with gasoline. The warning sounded every time I started the engine until I added more fuel. The van's system knew the truth and could not be fooled. I could postpone adding fuel, but only for a limited time. Eventually, the van would stop functioning and everyone inside knew it. We coasted into a service station in Nevada, watching the fuel center hit the number one, meaning there was fuel left for one mile and no more.

I used to think often of the lesson my fuel warning system taught me. But during the passage of time that lesson faded until a week ago when I sat absorbing The General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Mesmerized through the first two sessions listening to prophets and apostles of God teach,  I arose to prepare food when my own personal fuel warning system sounded. I clearly heard my warning system indicate that I was 'spiritually starving to death.'

What a wake up call. I am really working on scripture study and personal prayer, yet I am starving to death spiritually. What I am doing is not enough. I must do more. It must become a bigger priority in my life.

While I do not yet know all the fixes yet, I am working on discovering them. I am making adjustments. I am doing more.

Years ago I learned an important lesson from the fuel warning system of a vehicle, which faded subtly into forgetfulness. The whispering of the Holy Ghost were quiet, yet profoundly loud in my mind and I my heart.

The Holy Ghost is truly a powerful, personal warning system.