It's About Time - God's Time

 by Shauna V. Brown 

      Thirty three years ago Rick and I were attending a Saturday night adult session of stake conference. I was listening intently, but took a brief moment to look over at Rick. Tears were streaming down  his cheeks. I was listening to the speaker, but had evidently not been as touched as he was. He then leaned over and whispered “We’re having a baby boy.”  I was eight months pregnant at the time and was excited for the inspired revelation.  The following weeks were filled with preparing my mind for the coming little fellow, trying to think of boys names, as well washing all of the blue baby clothes stored since having Scott some five years prior.   

      So one can only imagine what a shocker it was to deliver a little blue, baby girl. Kristin, who finally came along after ten months. Her urgent arrival demanded a priesthood blessing.  We didn’t have much time to question --girl--boy? We were just grateful that she had arrived. But for a moment I wondered if heaven’s message had gotten mixed up? 

    Two baby girls later, one lengthy miscarriage, numerous priesthood blessings, and during Brittany’s ‘one in a million delivery’, I  found myself instructing two hesitating doctors, “Please, sew me up good ‘cause I’m going to have a baby boy.” Need I tell you that the look on their faces was unforgettable. Amazement - shock - disbelief - stunned, and watching two bobble headed doctors in motion best describe it.

     I believe when the Lord gives a prompted message it is wise to listen. So even if those doctors thought it was best that we didn’t have any more children, Rick and I both knew there was a greater plan and purpose. I am grateful that Rick and I wanted to invite children into our lives. The journey of being sick in bed for months with each, and then their difficult deliveries had it’s divine purposes and drew me closer to God. Briant’s story is personal scripture and trusted revelation.

     I know for a fact that some blessings take time. With all the difficulties with pregnancies it would have been easy to stop, even after Heather, our first. 

    So just as promised, six years latter our little boy--Briant (spelled with an “i” = single to the glory of God) finally arrived.  I smile upon reflection as I envision the picture in my mind.

 1) Rick, proud father standing by the bed holding new baby. 

2) Briant -just moments away from heaven

3)  Rick says aloud,  “Welcome, my little boy!”

    So today, twenty seven years latter-- Happy Birthday Briant!!

 Briant Allen Brown!  We are so thankful that the Lord let us know of your coming. You were well worth the wait, and you continue to be such a blessing to our family.   I guess one could say - you came into a home waiting with anticipated joy.   

      Young Motherhood-- I love this chapter of my life. I admit that there were ups and downs, peppered with  more downs than ups, and more ups when downs, and when the time came it was all worth it.

 

Life is a matter of trusting in the Lord, and being patient

 in His will and timing.   svb

  Which leads me to ponder upon events where our Heavenly Father knew that someday in the future he would be able to announced to the world, “This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.” Matt 3:17   

     Imagine those chapters of preparation, pondering, planning, patience, priesthood blessings and example. A time when our Savior had been schooled, tutored, and had succeeded, and sacrificed enough  to accomplish the greatest of all challenges, and bring about the greatest of blessings for all mankind.

   It is within “God’s timing” that great events transpire. 

 Enough time and a tree grows to render shade.

 Enough time and one can form a chair. 

 Still growing and with time enough, one can build a house

 from that old tree.    svb

       

So what will be ‘enough’ to clarify our time and tutoring with God? 

        We often are so eager to reach the top of the mountain, that we miss the inspiring blooms planted along the rugged ridge.

        So for today. Ponder the purpose of patience and think it might just be part of God’s perfect plan. We all can participate in his 'finishing school' if we so choose.  Events and possibly this event at this very moment in time, this experience, will be counted ‘more than enough’ to us as a blessing to get us to the top and -- Home again.  

   Have a great sabbath!

Love to All

            "Knees Please"

by Shauna Brown 

  On my bedroom widowseal sits a small framed thought: “Perfect prayers are always answered; proper petitions are always granted. The Lord never rejects a prayer uttered by the power of the spirit, or denies a petition sought in the name of christ, that accords with the divine will.”

~ Elder Bruce R. McConkie 

I have reflected upon this thought frequently. Are my prayers perfect? Are my requests too much for the Lord?  Does He tire from hearing the same petition? Are my concerns trivial?  

I think we all know the answer to that. Nothing is impossible for the Lord. His desire is that we pray. In our prayers we can  gain and eternal perspective of life, things that are of greatest importance. It is so easy to become distracted by the daily living and worldly invitations. 

   While reflecting, and I encourage everyone to do this - think back to those humble and critical prayers you have offered. You will find as I did, it was a special spiritual review, as well as a humbling recognition of God’s hand in my life. Those prayers spanned years of time and moments when I felt divine help was needed. 

I recall the tears I shed and prayers I offered as a very young girl, as I wanted my brother Alfred to bring his little boy Steven home from heart surgery.  Or the time when my brother Robert was run over and critically injured. Worried as Alfred and LuRee nearly lost their lives by a drunk man seeking to end his life. Mother and her cancer, Daddy and Parkinsons, Michael’s appendix, Miriam’s cancer . . . 

Concerns and prayers as time and time again, mother and daddy would gather us together. “We need the help of the Lord. ”  I realize even more today how my parents sought to bring heaven to earth.  How frequently I would find my parents on their knees in prayer.  

           I shall never forget the moment I  saw my mother praying by her bed early one morning.  It wasn’t an unusal sight, but when I heard her say my name I listened more intently as she prayed aloud to God for me and my choices. That was a moment when my tears couldn’t be contained. I knew of her love, and felt of HIS. That was a time that has bore witness over and over again to me of the power within the prayer. 

          Mama and Daddy called their home a “Heaven on Earth.” - how close they came. They invited the spirit into our home daily. It was an environment that taught us to trust in God, and know that answers to prayers will come.  I treasure the picture in my mind of our family kneeling upon the sky blue carpet in the living room, surrounded by French provential furniture much like the furniture in the Salt Lake Temple. It was a pattern with a purpose.  

At the conclusion of the family prayer we hugged and kissed each other. I know it will be just like that in heaven. 

Our family had their ups and downs.. but mostly because we were praying.  svb

As Rick and I married and had children our petitions grew. Our own little family prayers varied from blessing the bugs and dark scary nights. Growing into prayers to bring a child home safe and sound. "Knees Please", for inviting the spirit into our home. Uniting in prayers for an unborn child.  Prayers to heal a broken wing.  Prayers to calm a trouble heart. Prayers for direction. Prayers for our missionaries. . . .   

       

The reality for all of us is : 

Prayer is a gift and a blessing~ We bring the ribbon and God ties the bow. svb 

            To know that in some incredible way God hears our petitions. He is mindful of every one of them. It is within his power to answer them in an instant, but knows that timing, patience, silence, could possibly could be the best teacher. 

In the good book, The Bible, it states: 

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is 

planted; . . .A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; . . .a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; . . .a time to keep silence, and a time to speak.    Ecclesiastes 3:1–2, 4–5, 7

It’s in that perfect plan of God we find ourselves fully dependent upon his love, and will.  A time to trust, a time to be nurtured in faith, a time to ponder God’s purposes.   A time to review His hand, His words, His love within each of our lives.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell said: “Since faith in the timing of the Lord may be tried, let us learn to say not only, ‘Thy will be done,’ but patiently also, ‘Thy timing be done.’

So for this Sabbath day - Look to God and Live and offer a prayer of gratitude for everything we have. Where would we be without that sunrise? Double rainbows came yesterday. Don’t forget that breathe taking sunset - for it is a testament that HE is painting peace within the setting of the sun.

God Bless You All This Sabbath!

Love Shauna

Have a sunshine day. . . with a cherry on top!

    God Bless America!

by Shauna Brown 

     

     The year was 1970. The United States had all ready been at war in Vietnam for five years. Three more years of fighting would continue until the Paris Peace Accords - treaty would be signed. Some of my high school friends had lost their lives for the cause of freedom.  

When given the opportunity to perform for the military I felt it an honor to serve my country. I love my United States of America. I was able to see up close the sadness within the eyes of those who don’t have such blessed freedoms. 

If you recall from one of my prior sharing I had been hospitalized in Okinawa. I had injured my vocal cords and had an inner ear infection making it impossible to stand, dance or sing. I had been told by the medical doctors that I would never sing again, and that I would always have a low and raspy voice. Can I just say, that was so depressing and difficult to hear. I loved to sing. I had sung my whole life. While pondering upon my plight I could almost hear my mother say, “You must have unwavering faith Shauna.”  I drew courage and said a prayer in hopes for answers, and comfort.  A hymn instantly came to mind and the words rendered comfort.

Lead, kindly Light, amid th’encircling gloom;

Lead thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home;

Lead thou me on!

Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene—one step enough for me. 

    My thoughts led to inquire if there were any LDS soldiers on the nearby base. With the aid of my military escort I found myself not too long after surrounded by five Latter-day Saint soldiers, who had volunteered to come and administer. Relief and confidence came as they laid their hands upon my head and gave me a priesthood blessing. I felt such warmth and love. Alone in Okinawa, but not alone. I felt a sweet peace as well as an inner reassurance that I would sing again some day.

      From that moment forward I got better. For a few days my military escort rolled me into hospital rooms to visit the sick and needy. I couldn’t talk, but with the use of a notepad and marker I could communicate. It was a bitter, sweet experience. To look into the faces of so many who had become handicapped, depressed, or had lost the will to live. .  

    Within a matter of days I was released from the hospital. I was deemed well enough to rejoin my USO troop. I still couldn’t talk, but I could mouthe the words. Gratefully, I was gaining back my strength and weight.  I now could stand without falling over.  

      My new found circle of friends met me at the airport and wished me well on my journey. I stepped aboard a large military airplane.  I was taken back, surprised, as soldiers stood and cheered my arrival. I have never, ever received or ever since had such a grand welcome. The defense department had arranged for my travel. The flight would make a brief stop for me in Taipei, where I would meet up with the rest of my USO performing group. 

I was quickly informed that my plane was filled with soldiers headed for the front lines. Sure enough they were combat ready, helmets, guns and ammo.  It was instantly sobering upon the sight. I could only imagine their thoughts and concerns as they faced the realities that come with battle. I was surrounded by young men who think they are prepared and skilled for battle.Yet, so, so recently, I had come face to face with some who bore a strong testament of war and all its possibilities. I had visited the sick, the broken, maimed and depressed. I had listened to their stories. Freedom  and the fight for it was most vivid on my mind.

      During the flight my escort suggested, “Maybe we can pray for them.”  He indicated that he had been most impressed by the blessing that had been given to me by the LDS elders. Inspired by my circle of priesthood men he asked aloud if someone might pray upon these soldiers.  I was so moved as I watched a young soldier stand and offer words and expressions of joined love. Gratitude for his of country, love of family.

     Nearing the end of my flight one soldier extended,  “let’s sing a song for her, God Bless America.” 

I knew I was the only female aboard, and was humbled as one voice, joined by more, until I could hear them all.  I couldn’t hold back the tears. I stood  in respect and listened  and cried while they sang: 

God Bless America, 

Land that I love. 

Stand beside her, and guide her 

Thru the night with a light from above. 

From the mountains, to the prairies, 

To the oceans, white with foam 

God bless America, My home sweet home. 

I sadly realized, some would never return home. They would never see their land or families that they loved again.  I looked into their faces, though my eyes were blurred by  tears.  Oh, how I wanted to sing with full voice.... for them... to give them comfort, courage and unwavering faith in an all knowing Father in Heaven. 

Lead, kindly Light, amid th’encircling gloom;

              Lead thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home;

Lead thou me on!

Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene—one step enough for me. 

        Oh, may we never forget those who have fought to secure our freedoms and the rights and privileges of that freedom. 

Stand tall!  Rise your red, white and blue and join with those voices....

Proclaiming and  singing , “God bless America!”  

Realizing that it is... In God We ALL Must Trust! 

Have a Great Sabbath

Love Shauna

Have a sunshine day. . . with a cherry on top!

     Remember You Are A Gift- 

     by Shauna V. Brown 

     Recently Rick and I had the sweet experience of caring for Brittany and Steve Helm’s children for four days: Noah 7, Reed 5, Jamison 3, and Paige 1.  
    One of my favorite moments was when young Jamison would always volunteer to pray-- at every prayer time.   I was touched as each time Jamison would ask the Lord to bless and protect not only his parents, but everyone else that he knew. Bless the chickens so they will lay more eggs. Bless the sun. Bless Sunny and Papa, Bless Ruby. Bless Tootsie and Grandpa B, Bless Noah and his BB game today. Bless my cut . . . .
        His prayers turned my mind back to those prayers that my young children had offered. Some with similar, long and lengthy requests. How eager they were to be called upon to render their words to the Lord.
         I often think back to one of my favorite times of the day. I truly loved preparing for nighttime in the Sunshine Factory. Anticipated bubble baths, fluffy pajamas, and cuddle time with each of my children. That was a blessing all by itself.
         "Stories read

           Prayers said.

           Hug and a kiss-before bed." svb 
     Then, while tucking them in Rick or I would ask a quick little question before the goodnight kiss, “Who loves you?” 

     At that point they would respond..
       “Heavenly Father - Jesus - Mommy-Daddy- Grandma-- . . . and down the family tree.
       Hopefully, each of my children will remember those moments and prayers where we tried to instill within them,who they really are --a  child of God. Often we expressed that they were a gift from God. How blessed we felt to have them as a member of our family, who loved and wanted them.
       Now, I watch as my own children are enjoying and experiencing parenthood for themselves. It makes my heart rejoice to see the ripple effect of love and sunshine.  

     President Gordon B. Hinckley shared:
        “Imagine how our own families, let alone the world, would change if we vowed to keep faith with one another, strengthen one another, look for and accentuate the virtues in one another, and speak graciously concerning one another. Imagine the cumulative effect if we treated each other with respect and acceptance, if we willingly provided support. Such interactions practiced on a small scale would surely have a rippling effect throughout our homes and communities and, eventually, society at large.”  
Gordon B. Hinckley, Standing for Something: 10 Neglected Virtues That Will Heal Our Hearts and Homes    

        So this day I thank my Father in Heaven for children, “perfectly picked for me, as well as the rest of the Brown’s Sunshine Factory. Grateful that each one of them are striving to lift and love one another.  I love knowing that their best friends are their family.
        A good friend of mine made a chilling statement one day while visiting her. She said that her father had never told her that he loved her. In fact, as he lay in a hospital bed (suffered a heart attack) she inquired of him if he loved her. In frustration with his delay in answer   She then said, “Father, If I simply say, 'Rhonda, I love you.’  Then just shake your head if you do love me.’ 

     Now note, being in the hospital had nothing to do with his speech. He could talk if he wanted to. Then Rhonda continued, "I’m just grateful that he shook his head and then answered, 'yes.'  Clearly it was difficult for him to express love to me."
        Imagine it, Rhonda was in her mid forties before she ever heard him express his love for her - and yet it had to be induced.
        If I could stand on the roof top and yell aloud to all the world, I would proclaim of God’s love for me and everyone. That he knows us personally, cares about us personally. Answers our personal prayers, and is more than excited to express his love daily and openly.  We just have to look for it. It comes in all shapes and sizes, words, squeezes and ripples of goodness.
        When Noah came into the kitchen holding an egg from the chicken coop--freshly laid,  I smiled with the miracle of it.  Simple blessing! Simple gifts.  Look around, look up, and rejoice in the miracle of life and God’s goodness....See the good in one another and then go out and cause a bit of a ripple yourself.
        Smile more! Serve more! Speak up and give a compliment. Tell someone you love them. 

See the good. Remember who loves you... and pass it on! 

   Have a great Sabbath!

 
    Love Shauna

Have a sunshine day. . . with a cherry on top!

             Dream Daddy

          I can almost hear my Father’s daily announcement, “It’s another beautiful morning!” While opening the kitchen window and breathing in another new day. Equally as expressive was his frequent invitations, “Come see this incredible sunset!” His outlook on life was always one of being positive. I guess I should express my appreciation at this very moment for the part  and key role he played in my life. He truly was a happy father, and made those around him realize the gift of a family.  Happy Fathers Day Daddy!

 Clyde LaVar Van Wagenen, called fondly by some "CL, Van, Mr. Van, Bishop, Daddy, Father, Sweetheart", was a man who taught, exampled, led, inspired those around him.   I could write pages upon pages about my Father. He was a gift, a special God given gift for me. 

     Years ago I had a very vivid dream I would like to share on this Father's Day. The dream so real that upon my waking I found I my pillow wet from tears. 

Just how far away is heaven? For that night I stepped within the realms of it, and saw my Father once again. It had been years since his passing. I was so excited to see him. He was walking briskly with a great concourse of people. It wasn’t difficult to see him, as his once jaunty walk was instantly recognizable. He was no longer was held back by Parkinsons. I ran to catch up. It had been such a long time.   “Daddy!” 

He smiled, nodded his head in recognition, then said, “So little time Shauna,” but he continued to walk. He seemed so focused, business like and couldn’t allow any distraction.  It was true, Daddy had always been an excellent businessman, and I fondly remembered how many people would tell me what an outstanding man he was.   “Mr. Van is the best boss anyone could have.”  “If you need something done, and something done well, just ask Mr. Van.” “He was my Bishop, and my favorite one.”   “I love your father, he always treats others so kindly.”

      So here I was following after the man I had known for years as ‘Daddy’...

 Oh, how I wanted to hug him and let him know of my love. However, in my dream that didn’t happen. I followed him in and out of buildings, up and down stairs. There were no golden highways or cobble stones, and most of the buildings were made of brick. What ? No marbled walls--gold or crystallized imagination? This was’wasn't the heaven I have dreamed of.  Mansions, I didn’t see any. But what I learned within those moments has caused me to ponder upon it frequently.  

      Daddy took me into a room. I quickly discovered it to be his office. It was small in comparison to the one he once had on earth.  It was evident that Daddy didn’t have any personal secretaries. He invited me to sit down. I was surprised to see the simple surroundings. There were no pictures on the walls. No digital devices of any kind. I thought for sure heaven would be more high tech. Yet, there was definitely a warmth I felt within.  

     My interest was then drawn to a wall where a large, antique, secretary stood. The kind of desk that has lots of cubbyholes and spaces, small drawers and such. It rose to be within a foot of the ceiling. It was ornately carved and crafted. Of interest were the compartments and spaces which were filled with envelopes. Some of the envelopes were filled and plump, while others looked seemingly flat.

I asked Daddy, “What do you do here in heaven?”  His reply was simple,“There is so little time Shauna.”

 I noticed that his desk was very organized. His fountain pen positioned directly by a stack of blank pieces of paper. I recall seeing that he had written a few words upon the top of one. Seeing my gaze caused him to fold it and slip it into an envelope on the third level.  (They must have secrets in heaven)

    “So little time,”  He reaffirmed again. Then he shared with me in his humble manner that he was a steward over our family, “I am to record what you do. Not just you Shauna, but all our family line and members.”  By all indications and observations he was tracking and noting our earthly performance. His job was to return and report of the experiences and use of our time. That was a sobering thought for me. Instantly I wanted to see my envelope. But even before I could speak, Daddy was up and moving out of the room. It was quickly apparent that there could be no hesitation and I quickly followed.  

As I was trying to keep up with him I went to push a door open. Unknowingly, I took my eyes off of my Father and my dream ended , as well as my moments with him.  I remember that I cried, and it wasn’t just in my dream.     

Wouldn’t we all love to see our personal envelopes? See those acts that are considered of most worth and value to the eternal perspective of life and time.  Would there be descriptions concerning our relationships, our example to others? Would we be described in glowing terms?  Would there be papers that would cause regrets or sorrows?  Would we be true to our divine nature?  Would there be moments  written where we had fallen short of our potential?

My Father kept saying, “So little time.” What did he mean? 

‘So little time’-- to become, to do, to believe, to give, to learn and know? Perhaps it should cause us to review and discover the truths within the saying by Goethe: “Things that matter most, should never be at the mercy of things that matter least.” 

    My Father was a great man, an exemplary man of God and mankind. He honored his home, his wife, loved his children. Daddy sought with great dedication to lead others to Christ. I wish I could write his notes and fill his envelope!

     Regardless of the true meaning of that dream I am grateful for it. Today more than ever before the reality of life is fragile and can never be measured by the ticking of the clock. The sunrises and the sunsets are far more appreciated by me today. 'It's a beautiful day', and my oh my, the sunsets are vivid in testimony of the true nature of God. Rejoice in our Father who art in Heaven, for each of us are HIS children.

      In my quiet, pondering moments  I think upon my envelope within Daddy's desk.  Is it bad to want to peek within? Will it be worthy of note.  I guess I'll leave the answer up to Daddy.

Enjoy Your Sabbath.

Love to you all

        Shauna

     "Hold On Shauna, Hold On!"

     by Shauna V. Brown

     For years and years my family attended the annual ward Lagoon day. Pretty much it was a time for families to enjoy the discounted entrance price and give-aways.We all enjoyed the fun house and all the whirly rides, cotton candy, and especially the old rickity roller coaster. Lagoon’s famous wooden roller coaster “Roller Coaster - Coaster” was designed by John Miller of Coney Island fame. The coaster was constructed in 1921. It is the 7th oldest roller Coaster in the world and the oldest roller coaster in the Western United States.   

    So here’s my story for today. Years ago my mother shared with me her first experience riding on the now world famous roller coaster - coaster.  It so terrified her that she said she nearly wore out her kid gloves (Gripping it so tightly). As she told  the story it was easy to visualize her fears and imagine her vocal pleading with her Heavenly Father to return her ‘safely.’  She shared how she  made a promise with God that she would never ride that coaster again. In all my growing up I never saw her ride it. To all my knowledge she was true to her word and promise.

   When my mother was eighty Rick and I invited her to go with us and our family to Lagoon.  Even when our young children tried to coax her to riding the wooden coaster, she issued, ‘I promised I would never ride it again.’  

     Mother and I slid onto the bench on the ferris wheel . She was quick to point out how Lagoon had changed over the years.  Where some of the old rides had been located, how the area had been a lagoon with water. There had once been a fire and most of the park had been destroyed. They had worked hard to save the Merry-go-round. If her memory held right she thought it was around 1950.That is when the roller coaster was painted white - because of the smoke and fire damage. 

      I showed her some of the new rides that the children loved, the Boomerange, Colossus, and we observed from our vantage point plenty of people enjoying them. We could hear screams of delight and those of sudden fear.  I asked,“Wanna go on the ‘Jet Star’  with me, almost in jest. Her response was quite surprising. 

  “Sure!” 

I kept thinking to myself - this ride has got to be twice as scary as the old roller coaster. I thought she wouldn’t ride it. But equally as true to her word- we went. We stood in line and waited for our turn. It wasn’t difficult to observe the quick dips, turns and accelerations. We could even see the fear on the faces as they screamed past us, as rolling wheels clanked and coaster cars zoomed.

    I was almost ready for her to chicken out, but to my surprise she stepped in the car bucket.  I fit snuggly infront of her.  I can still hear her scream in my ears and feel her belly jiggle as she coached me loudly, “Hold on Shauna --Hold on!” 

We banked, rolled and looped and felt the intense G- force. Her hands were firmly gripping the side of the car. "Hold on Shauna, hold on." There is something that naturally induces one to laughter, and by the end of the ride we were both laughing so hard that neither one of us could get out of the cockpit.  We both tried our best to get out, each taking a turn. But somehow in all the zigging accelerations, and gravity, we were stuck. 

People in the line waiting were losing their patience with the white haired, eighty year old woman and her forty year old daughter who remained seated and holding up the ride. Despite all, we continued to laugh at our predicament.            

The attendent quickly extended his hand, “Let me help you out!” He couldn’t do it and motioned for another young man to come and help. Talk about embarrassment. Mother answered, “ I can’t get out,” she grinned, “I’m stuck.”  With a push and pull and the assistance on both sides of the car we were able to finally get off the ride -- red faced, but giggling all the way. 

Then I asked her the question, “Did you brake your promise to God about riding on a roller coaster?”

      “I promised that I wouldn’t ride on that old wooden roller coaster," she said pointing to the old rickety wooden one, “but boy didn't we have a fun ride?”

      That is a treasure of a memory for me. I don’t believe Mama ever did ride another roller coaster in her lifetime. But the key element of this story are the words mother extended in loud tones over and over through the ups and downs, tight curves and sudden drops.  “Hold on Shauna, Hold on.”

       Isn’t that what it is all about---  Holding on to life and life’s experiences?  There are those times that can literally take your breath away. Moments when a sudden giggle errupts out of no where, only to make you smile. There are times when you think you have run out of track and no where else to go, only to discover there is hand reaching out to lift you. There are guaranteed ups and downs to give you the ride of a lifetime. I know there are moments when we all wish to get off the hectic, frightening, unknown, seemingly never ending ride and toss all the tickets back. 

    I have long admired Corrie Ten Boom who said it best: 

When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark,

  you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. 

You sit still and trust the engineer. 

    All right, so it took a couple of men to pry me and my mother out of the vehicle. I’m sure she is giggling on the other side...with the thought of it still to this day. There was a great sense of relief felt when we didn’t have to rely on the use of a blowtorch or the jaws- of -life. We think we probably would have made the Deseret News for sure. It was so funny.  

    The Beatles wrote the song: 

   He’s got a ticket to ride...and so do we.  It’s only good for one ride on earth. So we must all learn to trust in the Lord.  Lean on the Lord, and understand He knows the curves, the ups and downs as well as the contrary forces.  I have listened and heard the same words as Mama used that day at Lagoon, “Hold on Shauna, hold on.”

Enjoy your sabbath!

Love Shauna

COLOR ME YELLOW!

by Shauna Brown 

Recently I was asked by one of my grandchildren, “Sunny, what’s your favorite color?”  I instantly thought of a crayon box and all the colors contained. As a child I loved the large box of 72 colors. It was an anticipated, traditional gift that I looked forward to each Christmas. I had a few favorite colors then, and they were the ones that wore down and broke quickly, usually the yellow ones.  

      Can you imagine what it would be like without a touch of yellow in life?  Yellow butter, yellow corn, yellow bananas, daffodils, cheese, omlets, lemons, bumblebees, pineapples, pears, banana squash, school pencils, school buses, the large yellow “M” arche , butterflies, the bright sun, cats eye marbles, yellow brick roads, sunrises and sunsets?    

        This past Friday I realized that yellow triggers and touches off a spark of emotion within the center of my soul. I receive a large bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers. Now I won’t cry over butter or bananas, but sunflowers caused a stirr of delight to dance, and tears to flow.  For hours after I pondered the effect it had within. 

What would we all do without that spark of yellow brightness in our lives?  I don’t know for sure, but I believe I fell in love with ‘yellow’ years ago, when I was just a little girl.  I loved our beautiful backyard. It was my secret garden of sorts. It was defined by Baskets of gold, pansies, larkspurs, daffodils, poppies, peonies, violets, ferns, iris, daisies, and varieties mother knew by name. I spent a lot of my childhood time there. 

Our yard and garden contrasted greatly to the adjacent “prison field.” For those who can’t recall, my childhood home bordered on the Utah State Prison in Sugar House.  I remember my Mother pointing out to me on a few occasions,  “See the difference Shauna. Beautiful gardens to bring enjoyment and peace, contrasted by those imprisoned  and surrounded by weeds and sagebrush. Prisoners who long to smell a rose, or touch our daffodils. Locked up behind bars, oh, can you imagine how they long to tickle their toes in grass.”  I felt sorry for them, and even prayed for them. They couldn’t observe the bumble bees dancing from flower to flower. Or watch the humming birds who thrived upon our honeysuckle bush attached to our clothes line post. 

      Oh, how I appreciate those memories as mama and daddy were so key to teaching the important things within my life. I guess one could easily say they pioneered the potentials within my soul.  Mother was quick to point out all the possibilities, capabilities, and taught me those things which could bring me everlasting joy. 

     When I was a young girl I would tag-a-long, with my older brothers into the “prison field,” it was the perfect place for discovery.  There were tons of red ant beds, grasshoppers, pheasants, gophers, field mice and black shinny stink bugs who would pump up their bottoms and send us scurrying on our way. Then there was the vast assortment of weeds, obnoxious burrs, and thistles which always got stuck in our socks. It was truly a field of contrasts. But even in that prison field there, for my enjoyment and wonder were freely growing sunflowers.  Perhaps that is where my love of yellow truly blossomed. 

Then when I became a ‘Beehive’ in the Young Womens program I was asked to select a flower that reflected me and would represent my personal emblem. Just that week at school I had learned about sunflowers. I was fascinated to hear that their  blossoms daily followed the light from the sun. I set forth to discover the truth of it for myself. I remember watching the reality of it on a Saturday and it was true. This phenomena is called ‘heliotropism’ or sun-tracking. I learned, when the water accumulates on the shady side of the stem, there is a hydraulic system that starts to work. As the pressure builds up, it forces the head of the sunflower to follow toward the light. This process provides enough energy and force to move the head of the sunflower in a 180-degree arc. Amazing! I love the thought and still continue to hope that the sunflower represent me as I continue to seek the light.  The more I studied about sunflowers I sadly learned that once the sunflower reaches maturity it no longer needs to follow the light.  Wow!  Doesn’t that give pause and reason to ponder? 

  Could I have possibly been influenced while living in the Sunshine Factory for the past forty years? The fact is we could have called  it the Rainbow Factory as well. Or we could have chugged along on the Success Express, or lived in the Motivation Station, or even the Brown’s Paper Sack.  I’m glad Rick and I selected the Sunshine Factory as a family theme. Thankful for the additional rays. I do love the color yellow, and girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes. . .    

Yet, after all these years, since I was that young Beehive girl of twelve, I find myself wanting more and seeking more frequently the light. Not for the cause of becoming a tan beauty, but because I need to feel the warmth, the security, the energy, the spirit, the power of God for myself every day.         

 Just this morning I read a thought by the famous author, Willa Cather,  I found it most interesting.“The new country lay open before me: there were no fences in those days, and I could choose my own way over the grass uplands, trusting the pony to get me home again. Sometimes I followed the sunflower-bordered roads. Fuchs told me that the sunflowers were introduced into that country by the Mormons; that at the time of the persecution when they left Missouri and struck out into the wilderness to find a place where they could worship God in their own way, the members of the first exploring party, crossing the plains to Utah, scattered sunflower seeds as they went. The next summer, when the long trains of wagons came through with all the women and children, they had a sunflower trail to follow. I believe that botanists do not confirm Jake’s story but, insist that the sunflower was native to those plains. Nevertheless, that legend has stuck in my mind, and sunflower-bordered roads always seem to me the roads to freedom.”    ~ My Ántonia 

     I smile as I can well imagine my mother or one of my ancestors filling her apron pockets with seeds and casting them to the wind with the dream, hope and desire for those following to enjoy bright yellow blossoms. Blossoms that beckon us to follow the eternal source of all light.

  

  Can you hear me singing loudly - like I did as a five year old?  --- It’s a favorite hymn:

       JESUS WANTS ME FOR A SUNBEAM

TO SHINE FOR HIM EACH DAY.

IN EVERY WAY TRY TO PLEASE HIM

AT HOME, AT SCHOOL AT PLAY 

A SUNBEAM, A SUNBEAM, JESUS WANTS ME FOR A SUNBEAM...

In becoming that sunbeam I want to raise my face closer. Hold my head up higher, follow and embrace all that God can issue for my growth and development.  So lets fill our pockets with sunflower seeds and purposes, and scatter sunshine far and wide. In so doing I want to share the sunshine and joy that grows and bubbles within  me until my spiritual hydraulic system bursts.

Have a great sabbath day.  Shine on!

Shauna