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Sunday, September 27, 2009

Concern for the One: My favorite GC talk ever.

Concern for the One

Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin Of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles

Joseph B. Wirthlin, “Concern for the One,” Ensign, May 2008, 17–20

Jesus Christ is our greatest example. He was surrounded by multitudes and spoke to thousands, yet He always had concern for the one.

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... True disciples of Jesus Christ have always been concerned for the one. Jesus Christ is our greatest example. He was surrounded by multitudes and spoke to thousands, yet He always had concern for the one. “For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost,” He said. “What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it?”

This instruction applies to all who follow Him. We are commanded to seek out those who are lost. We are to be our brother’s keeper. We cannot neglect this commission given by our Savior. We must be concerned for the one.

Today I would like to talk about those who are lost—some because they are different, some because they are weary, and some because they have strayed.

Some are lost because they are different. They feel as though they don’t belong. Perhaps because they are different, they find themselves slipping away from the flock. They may look, act, think, and speak differently than those around them and that sometimes causes them to assume they don’t fit in. They conclude that they are not needed.

Tied to this misconception is the erroneous belief that all members of the Church should look, talk, and be alike. The Lord did not people the earth with a vibrant orchestra of personalities only to value the piccolos of the world. Every instrument is precious and adds to the complex beauty of the symphony. All of Heavenly Father’s children are different in some degree, yet each has his own beautiful sound that adds depth and richness to the whole.

This variety of creation itself is a testament of how the Lord values all His children. He does not esteem one flesh above another, but He “inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; and he denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; … all are alike unto God.”

I remember when I was young, there was an older boy who was physically and mentally disabled. He had a speech impediment and walked with difficulty. The boys used to make fun of him. They teased and taunted him until sometimes he would cry.

I can still hear his voice: “You’re not kind to me,” he said. And still they would ridicule him, push him, and make jokes about him.

One day I could bear it no longer. Although I was only seven years old, the Lord gave me the courage to stand up to my friends.

“Don’t touch him,” I said to them. “Stop teasing him. Be kind. He is a child of God!”

My friends stepped back and turned away.

I wondered at the time if my boldness would jeopardize my relationship with them. But the opposite happened. From that day onward, my friends and I became closer. They showed increased compassion for the boy. They became better human beings. To my knowledge, they never taunted him again.

Brothers and sisters, if only we had more compassion for those who are different from us, it would lighten many of the problems and sorrows in the world today. It would certainly make our families and the Church a more hallowed and heavenly place.

Some are lost because they are weary. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. With all the pressures and demands on our time and the stress we face each day, it’s little wonder we get tired. Many feel discouraged because they have not measured up to their potential. Others simply feel too weak to contribute. And so, as the flock moves on, gradually, almost imperceptibly, some fall behind.

Everyone has felt tired and weary at one time or another. I seem to feel more so now than I did when I was younger. Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, even Jesus Christ knew what it meant to be tired. I do not wish to underestimate the weight that members of the Church bear upon their shoulders, nor do I minimize the emotional and spiritual trials they face. These can be heavy and often difficult to bear.

I do, however, have a testimony of the renewing power of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The prophet Isaiah proclaimed that the Lord “giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.” When I feel tired, I remember the words of the Prophet Joseph Smith:

“Shall we not go on in so great a cause? Go forward and not backward. Courage, brethren; and on, on to the victory! Let your hearts rejoice, and be exceedingly glad. Let the earth break forth into singing. …

“… Let the woods and all the trees of the field praise the Lord; … and let all the sons of God shout for joy!”

For you members of the Church who hold back because of feelings of inadequacy, I plead with you to step forward, put your shoulder to the wheel, and push. Even when you feel that your strength can add little, the Church needs you. The Lord needs you. Remember that the Lord often chooses “the weak things of the world” to accomplish His purposes.

To all who are weary, let the comforting words of the Savior console you: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Let us rely on that promise. The power of God can infuse our spirits and bodies with energy and vigor. I urge you to seek this blessing from the Lord.

Draw near to Him, and He will draw near to you, for He has promised that “they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

When we show concern for those who are weary, we “succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees.” Caring Church leaders are mindful of individual limitations yet eager to utilize members to the extent of their strength and abilities. Leaders teach and support but do not bring pressure to “run faster or labor more than” strength allows.

Remember, sometimes those who start out the slowest end up going the farthest.

Some are lost because they have strayed. Except for the Lord, we have all made mistakes. The question is not whether we will trip and fall but, rather, how will we respond? Some, after making mistakes, stray from the fold. This is unfortunate. Do you not know that the Church is a place for imperfect people to gather together—even with all their mortal frailties—and become better? Every Sunday in every meetinghouse throughout the world, we find mortal, imperfect men, women, and children who meet together in brotherhood and charity, striving to become better people, to learn of the Spirit, and to lend encouragement and support to others. I am not aware of any sign on the door of our meetinghouses that reads “Restricted Entrance—Perfect People Only.”

Because of our imperfections, we need the Lord’s Church. It is there that His redemptive doctrines are taught and His saving ordinances are administered. The Church encourages and motivates us to be a better and happier people. It is also a place where we can lose ourselves in the service of others.

The Lord knows we will make mistakes. That is why He suffered for our sins. He wants us to get back on our feet and strive to do better. There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.

To you who have strayed because you have been offended, can you not set your hurt and anger aside? Can you not fill your hearts with love? There is a place for you here. Come, join the fold, consecrate your abilities, talents, and skills. You will be better for it, and others will be blessed by your example.

To those who have strayed because of doctrinal concerns, we cannot apologize for the truth. We cannot deny doctrine given to us by the Lord Himself. On this principle we cannot compromise.

I understand that sometimes people disagree with doctrine. They even go so far as to call it foolish. But I echo words of the Apostle Paul, who said that sometimes spiritual things can appear as foolishness to men. Nevertheless, “the foolishness of God is wiser than men.”

In truth, things of the Spirit are revealed by the Spirit. “The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.”

We testify that the gospel of Jesus Christ is here upon the earth today. He taught of His Father’s doctrine, “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.”

I know that each of you bears a concern for a loved one. Give encouragement, service, and support to them. Love them. Be kind to them. In some cases, they will return. In others, they will not. But in all cases, let us ever be worthy of the name we take upon ourselves, even that of Jesus Christ.

To all who inhabit this beautiful earth, I raise my voice and bear solemn witness that God lives and that Jesus is the Christ, our Savior and King! He restored His truth and His gospel through the Prophet Joseph Smith. He speaks to His prophets and apostles. President Thomas S. Monson is the Lord’s anointed and guides His Church today. I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Friday, July 31, 2009

Untitled

I have no idea what I'm going to post right now. I just know that I need to post something, because it's already been about a week, and I promised I would blog more regularly again.

So, you, my lucky readers, get to witness, first-hand, the inner-workings of Wayneman's gray matter via free association...

BALLS

When I was a little dude - about two - and my older sister, Gina was about 5, we recorded a tape with Mom one Christmas (I think for Dad, who was on a West-Pac cruise in the Navy). The tape is still floating around somewhere. Angie, my little sister probably has it. She is sort of the archivist of the fam.

Anyhoo...

On the tape, I'm singing, "I ta Mommy tickle Tantric Claws" and other cute, little nonsensical things a deaf child might say, or sing.

I was so cute.

Then Mom asks Gina what she wants to get Wayne for Christmas. Gina answers with, "a puppy."

Cute.

But where's my freakin' puppy? It's been like 35 years, Sis!!!

Then Mom asks her, what do YOU want for Christmas. Gina thinks for a second, then shouts with her 5-year-old enthusiasm,

"BALLS!!"

Uh huh. Sorry Gina, I guess I cornered the market on that one in this family...

I'm sitting here listening to my favorite, German synthpop band that sings in English - De/Vision.

"Back in my life," Steffen croons, "I used to be so happy... Don't ask me why, I became so ugly."

Nice.

Although, I sometimes feel this way. You know, I was a happy child before I cracked my head open on a brick when I was 4 or 5. The colors were more vivid back then. The scents more keen.

I still have the scar, and the accompanying dent in my left frontal lobe (well, the part of the skull that covers the left frontal lobe).

It's interesting, actually. They've (Wikipedia, of course. Who else?) found that damage to the frontal lobe can change the disposition of a person. I forget if it's the left or the right, but if you damage that side, it will cause you to be more prone to depression and more like... *GASP*... a Virgo (Inside joke. Sorry).

Whad'ya know...

I wore a bra when I was about... five? Or was it six?

Anyways... yeah, so I broke my collar bone (a second time) doing a back flip in the driveway for my Dad, when he came home from work one day. I was Momma's little performing monkey. She wanted to show my old man what I had been doing all day. I was small and quite the natural gymnast, apparently.

But Dad always had this effect on me. I had serious performance anxiety (quit snickering, you know what I mean) around him. So when I attempted the back flip, I was TOO careful. I didn't swing my legs up enough, and landed right on my shoulder.

Dad wasn't impressed.

I was rushed to the hospital, and they set it as best they could, and outfitted me with a brace. The kids at school pointed their fingers at me and laughed, scoffed, and otherwise guffawed at me, saying, "look! the deaf kid has a bra! HAHAHA."

Then I coolly sliced them all to tiny pieces with my red light saber... in my head (that's where it all starts, folks).

Dad was never impressed...

He almost drowned me when I was 7. Maybe it was because I had hitherto cost him a buttload of money with all of my stupid injuries. We were camping in a van... down by the river, skiing, swimming and having a hootin' white-trash time.

The kids didn't ski, but were allowed to go on the knee board. I wanted this... really bad. So Dad strapped me in...

... REALLY tight, for good measure, to make sure I could NEVER get out. Seriously though, I think he was thinking of the strap like a seat belt in a car. You want it snug, right?

He started the boat, I had my cute little life jacket on, and shouted, "Hit it!!!" at which command, Dad took off...

... WAY too slow.

Once again, Dad's over-developed sense of safety go the better of him.

You see, it was SO slow that the front end of the knee board did not raise like it should. Instead, it dipped UNDER the wake, and I flipped about 100 feet out from shore.

That's nice.

Sure. Everybody crashes. I had a life jacket on. But a life jacket, even the bright yellow ones, will not save you if you are stuck UNDER the knee board. In my case, I needed a freakin' crowbar to unstrap myself.

I was going to die, folks.

Then, Brian, my big, bad, firefighter uncle swam out from shore, flipped me over and rescued me. I haven't much cared for large bodies of H2O since.

I don't blame my old man, though. I'm sort of the same way when it comes to my kids...

I think I'll go eat some chicken.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Oh My Heck! I need to clean up my language.

Okay, so I've sort of developed a Mormon potty mouth (or worse) over that past few years. Expletives shouted in anger, that once were "Frick" or "Shiester" have, well...

... devolved.

I've even used "WTF" and "KMA" and "FPOS" on occasion in cybertalk, justifying it because, it's "not really swearing."

So, what better way to get myself to commit to stopping such abhorrent language, than to make myself accountable to you, my faithful readers.

All two of you :)

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Dracula must be rolling in his coffin...

Vampyres suck.


Yes, I spell it "v-a-m-p-Y-r-e" now. I mean, what else am I supposed to do?

I've been a longtime fan of the mysterious, brooding, blood-sucking, becaped, night-prowling perv.

As a self-proclaimed misfit (okay, maybe not so self-proclaimed), I've always been drawn to the more "fringe" elements of culture, vamp(y)res among them.

I've never been a vamp(y)re. I don't ever intend to be one. I get queasy at the sight of blood, and I don't like my steak anywhere near medium rare.

But, I delight in the mystery, the paradox, the irresistibility (I think I just made up another word) of the vamp(y)re.

Bram Stoker's"Dracula" was one of the coolest books I've ever read. Entirely written in letter and journal-entry format, it is one of the most spine-tingling stories ever told - still.

I read Anne Rice's first three books in her "Interview With the Vamp(y)re" series.

Perverse.

Not for the feint of heart or the innocent-hearted to consume, are the novels by Rice. Which is why I haven't continued the series. The stories simply got to a point where I could no longer justify my enjoyment of them.

Nonetheless, Rice served to perpetuate the mystique and intrigue of the vamp(y)re further.

Don't tell me you don't know where this is going.

Now we have Stephanie "Molly" Meyer who has single-handedly ruined vamp(y)res for those of us who have always loved them. (FTR, the below pic is not of my making. I "borrowed" it from another blog that was lamenting about middle aged women and their obsession with Twilight).


I remember a time when alternative music was actually "alternative" to the mainstream. I remember a time when independent music was actually produced by an "independent" record label. I remember a time when vamp(y)res were actually "vamp(y)ric" - NOT creepy teenage stalkers.

Sure, everybody deserves to enjoy the mystery that is "vamp(y)re".

BUT, now Edward mania is EVERYWHERE.

You see, the once brooding, shadow-hidden vamp(y)re is now a Molly Mormon icon. Vamp(y)res have now sold out. I'm not sure what's worse: the fact that "Twilight" now has a hallowed place on the bookshelf next to the scriptures, or that Mollys feel so repressed due to the insane workaholicism (another made-up word) of LDS men, that they require such escapism...

Okay. I've officially just pissed off a lot of people.

But I'm pissed off that I now have to go find something else mainstream America hates. It's quite tiring trying to stay ahead of the cultural curve.

After all, I'm ALREADY Mormon. I guess that will never be cool, so I can take satisfaction in that.

However... Jesus is becoming increasingly cool in the underground scene. I recently found a page on Myspace devoted to "Christian Goths and Emos", and the guitarist from the band Tool, Adam Jones, is now a Jesus freak.

So, you never know.

Friday, July 10, 2009

It's Been a Long Time...

So anyways, my soul has been officially SUCKED by that OTHER social network of hundreds of "friends" and immediate gratification, where EVERYONE has to see what you say on their homepages (unless, of course, they've chosen to "hide" your posts, which, I suspect has happened to me with more than a few "friends")

Let's face it: A true narcissist doesn't want to wait around for several days for his friends to take notice of what he has to say.

HE WANTS IT NOW!!!!
However, much to my chagrin, I have discovered that not only has my soul been sucked, but so has my creativity and, with it, my brain.

I mean, when your interaction is dumbed down to "quizzes", obscure movie quotes and unintelligible quips designed to defend yourself about how you are really NOT gay, you know your narcissism has reached its apex.

So yes, world, I'm gonna start blogging again, because I want to regain what small degree of intelligence and creativity I once possessed (even though my "fanbase" here is no longer, and it's a very real possibility that NOBODY will actually read this post - ever)

Besides, nobody likes me over there anyway.