All Together In Heaven...

The Henderson's
From L to R:  Mabel, Doris, Betty, Ruth, George, Gerald and Joyce
Family Reunion, abt 1960

On Saturday, August 30, 2014, the last of the Henderson children born to Maggie and George Henderson of Burley, Idaho, left mother earth to join her siblings (Mabel, Doris, Ruth, George, Gerald, and Joyce) in their eternal home on high.  Betty Henderson Miller was 92 years young.

All of the husbands (Bill, Pat, Loyd, Steve and Theron) have also passed on to a higher reward.  That leaves only VaLoy (George's widow) and myself (Gerald's widow) to fill whatever life we have left on this earth with memories.

The Henderson family is an amazing family.  Maggie and George struggled in hard times.  George worked as a janitor in the local School District, and Maggie worked hard as the mother of 8 children.  But, somehow they managed to raise all of their children to be responsible, honest, hard-working citizens of their little community.  One other daughter, Berniece, passed away as a young mother from complications after heart surgery.  She left behind a young daughter and a loving husband.  I met them once, but have since lost track of them.

Mabel with George and VaLoy

Mabel was the oldest, and when I met her in 1957, she was pregnant with her last son.  She was a firecracker of a lady.  She always spoke her mind and let you know where you stood.  I guess I made a good impression on her, because she liked me.  She was the first to become a widow...but not the first to leave us.  It was Gerry who had that honor.

Doris and Pat

Ruth and Loyd

Doris and Pat were busy business owners in Burley, Idaho; and they were the parents of a lovely family.  They were gracious and always welcoming to me whenever I visited.  Ruth and Loyd owned a chicken hatchery in Paul, Idaho.  It was always fun to visit the farm.  Our children loved to see the little chicks and even got to take a couple home with them on one visit.

George was Gerry's only brother (picture above with Mabel) and we liked to visit him a lot.  We visited he and VaLoy in California, Washington, and Alabama.  George was a great brother-in-law.

Joyce and Steve

Joyce and Steve lived in Burley, too, and worked hard all of their lives.  Joyce was the youngest who was loved a great deal by her big brother.

Betty and Theron

Betty was the one who held the family together.  I never saw her without a smile on her face.  She and Theron spent most of their lives in Indio, California.  I think Betty was the one we visited most often, because they lived the closest.  We did love to get together for family reunions in Idaho, though.  It was always great fun to get the whole family together in one place!

Heart disease and Cancer were the big killers in the Henderson family.  Gerry's brother, George and Gerry, too, died from Heart disease, as did Berniece before them.  Doris, Ruth and Joyce died from Cancer.  Betty and Mabel were the only ones who seemed to enjoy longevity.  They just kept on ticking until their bodies just wore out.

I shall forever be grateful for this amazing family that came into my life in 1957.  I pray that one day, when the Good Lord calls me home, that I will be able to join with them all for that great reunion on high.  God bless you, Betty for being a part of my life and giving me a boatload of memories to reflect on from time to time.  I love you and we will miss you.

L to R:  Ruth, Doris, Mabel, George, Joyce and Betty
All the Henderson's together, 1981, Gerry's funeral

We Are Living In Troubled Times...

Children of the World

In view of all that is taking place all around the world, I have found myself saying more and more prayers for our leaders, for the leaders of other countries, for homes and families, and for humanity as a whole.  But, most especially, I am praying for the children.

We are living in the most troubling times I have ever experienced in my whole life's history.  I can't remember another time when there was so much hatred permeating everywhere in the world.  It is like a thick, dark, suffocating cloak that is covering everything in its path.  Perhaps my parents could relate these times to the world they lived in during the Great Depression and World War II.  I can't answer for them...I was much too young to even relate to their fears.  But, I do know this...their children and their children's safety were uppermost in their minds.

Angel Child

Man has always been in the middle of the fight between good and evil.  It is the continuation of the war in heaven which ended with the expulsion of Lucifer from the kingdom of God to "reign with blood and terror" on the earth, where he would be ruler.  Fortunately, for mankind, God's plan has the weapons to fight this evil.  He sent His son, Jesus Christ, to free mankind from their evil choices.  He also gave us the agency of choosing for ourselves.

Son of God

Many of God's children have chosen evil, but more of them have chosen good.  And good will win in the end.  Meanwhile, we must be diligent in helping to relieve suffering, comfort when there are opportunities to comfort, feed those who are hungry, clothe those who are naked, give them water when they thirst, and bind their wounds when they cannot do so for themselves.  This is what Christ has taught us, and this is what is going to save us in the end.

A Little Child Refugee

I am a fan of Glenn Beck.  Many of my friends and family would not agree with me, but God has given me a gift to be able to discern truth, and Mr. Beck speaks truth to my heart.  Whether you agree or not, doesn't matter...I still love you.  Glenn is a man of great heart and acts on his promptings to do good.  He recently made a trip with his crew to the border and witnessed for himself the treatment of the children there.  It broke his heart, and it broke my heart as I watched the footage.  It reminded me of a song written by Kurt Bestor back in the '90's called, "Prayer of the Children."  Kurt wrote this song when he was returning from his mission where he witnessed war-torn Europe's crying children and it broke his heart.  Here are some of the words of this song which melt my heart every time I hear them:

Praying Child

          "Can you hear...the prayers of the children...on bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room?
          "Empty eyes...with no more tears to cry, turning heavenward...toward the light.
          "Cryin' 'Jesus help me to see the mornin' light...of one more day.'
          "But if I should die before I wake, I pray my soul to take.

          "Can you feel...the hearts of the children...aching for home, for something of their very own.
          "Reaching hands...with nothing to hold on to, but hope for a better day, a better day.
          "Cryin' 'Jesus help me to feel the love again...in my own land.'
          "But if unknown roads lead away from home, give me loving arms, 'way from harm. ..."

          "...Can you hear,..the voice of the children...softly pleading...for silence in their shattered world?
          "Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate, blood of the innocent...on their hands.
          "Cryin' 'Jesus help me to feel the sun again upon my face?'
          "For when darkness clears, I know you're near, bringing peace again. ..."

          "Can you hear...the prayers of the children?"
               (If you are not familiar with this song, go online and listen for yourself.  It will touch your heart, too.)

Crying Out For Love

We pray for comfort for those precious children all over the world...whether they are the children of the enemy or children of our own.  Whether they are children who have been used as human shields while their soldiers are fighting with their evil an "enemy" who is full of good.  Whether they are children who are being exploited by our neighbors to the south to be used for their evil gains to over-run our country and confuse the people.  They are all children, after all, and they deserve answers to their prayers.

***All of the above images were downloaded from "50 Touching Photos Showing The Children of the World."  I found this sight while researching photos to use in this writing.

God bless our efforts to understand these troubled times, and God bless the Children of the World.

Sandcastles In The Sand...

First Day of Summer at the Beach

Ah, the first day of summer!  This is the day we look forward to all year.  I am a "Summer" girl, so when the sun is shining (finally) I want to be out in it.  We didn't plan this day at all...what we came up with was kind of a last minute decision.  But Dean raised the question, "When is the Sandcastle Contest in Cannon Beach?"  And so, I got online and looked it up.  Sure enough, there it was!  Today!  So, I packed some snacks, we loaded the car and headed north following Highway 101 along the coast.  The drive up, by itself, is worth getting out of the house for.

We came here another time, about 7 years or so ago, and brought Dean's parents and his cousin Lorraine.  It was a beautiful day then, too...a day when all of us had better health.  This year, however, it seemed like the crowds had increased by a factor of 10!  We had a hard time finding a place to park, then we had a hard time getting close enough to the "carving" to see anything.

We wandered about for nearly an hour, finally zeroing in on our favorites.  We found it great fun to watch their progress.

When we came upon the above sculpture, we stopped short, and had to chuckle!  "Couch Potatoes!"  That one was a hoot.  We both agreed that they did a great job on the couch.  Someone had a great imagination!

Then we stood and watched this sculpture's progress for quite some time, trying to figure out what this was all about.  As we watched, the Volkswagen's started to appear.  It was hilarious!  I can't remember the title, but I just titled it "In and Out!"  Someone commented that it was a scene from some movie, but I guess I must have missed that one.

 It is amazing to watch the detail of each sand sculpture unfold and the sand "artists" work their talents.  They have such amazing concentration and the end result is absolutely amazing.  The concentration that each participant expresses with their work is awe inspiring.









Even when sculpting out a sign, every detail is precise.  Each group has a plan, and every member of the group has their assignment.  Here we watched as the artist did the lettering on the title sign.



Have you ever seen a sandcastle that looked like a rocket ship?  We found this one quite interesting!  This particular sculpture ended up in a heap of sand when the team was just about finished.  The entire crowd moaned.  But, you have to give them credit, they took one of the medals for their efforts.

The one sculpture we zeroed in on was the sculpture created by a Christian group.  We watched and watched, as first the lion and then the lamb emerged.  The first sculpture we noticed was a huge cross that was set off to the side and in front.  To the left of the cross was a giant book...the Bible...with the verse "Isaias ll:7" printed on the right side.  The group creating this sculpture were all Hispanic, so that is how they spell Isaiah.  (Clever!)  

We were immersed in this sculpture.  Every member had their assigned task, from shaping the lion and the lamb to sculpting out the details of his mane, to forming the huge blocks that would become the cross, the book and, lastly, the plaque that bore the title.

"One Day," as the scripture says, "The lion shall lie down with the lamb."  I loved it!  Dean loved it!  The crowd that was as spell-bound with this sculpture as we were, loved it.  But, I guess the judges didn't love it so much.  They didn't even get an honorable mention.  Our guess is that it was too controversial of a subject for the contest.  How sad!  They worked hard and did an excellent job.  If I had a ribbon to give them, it would be a huge first place.

On to the Master's Sculptures!  There were six in this category, and they were competing for the 1st Place Prize of $1200.  They were all amazing, and we could tell they worked very hard to perfect their sculpture and try and win the prize.  But, prize or not, they were there to display their artistic abilities and every one of them was having a great time.

And the winner is...

This guy was the leader and central figure in the Chinese Zodiac sculpture, the First Prize winner.  All of the animals were there, surrounding him:  The pig, the rat, the hare, the horse, the goat, the snake, etc.  It really was quite amazing and we liked this one a lot.

With the day coming to an end, the prizes all handed out, and the tide quickly sneaking up on the beach, all of the crew members got busy tearing down their boundaries, clearing out all of their tools, and then the ocean would be allowed to reclaim its sandy shore and the sculptures would return to their birthplace, mingled with the rest of the grains of sand on the beach.  It is an evolution of art.  All of this work testifies that nothing is permanent.  It is sad in a way, but the joy and pleasure these artists give to the crowds each year somehow makes it all worth while.  Cannon Beach has been hosting this event for 50 years; I suppose they will continue for perhaps another 50!

A Tribute to Mom...

Mothers come in all shapes and sizes.  Some are tall and thin as a pencil and some are short and round like a soft ball of yarn.  Some wear smiles on their faces at all times and in all circumstances while others just can't seem to find anything to smile about.  Some have blue eyes and some eyes are brown.  Some are loud and boisterous while others are soft spoken and meek.  Some were gifted with a myriad of talents while others struggle to put two pieces of cloth together.

Yes, it takes a whole lot of different mothers to take their place in God's tapestry of motherhood--and to Him, each one is choice.  There is no single mold to make a mother.  My mom was neither tall nor short; she was not round and she was not thin; she smiled most of the time, but occasionally, she would wear a cross look on her face; her eyes were neither blue nor were they brown--they were gray; she was not loud or boisterous--she was more the meek, quiet type; and my mother was the most gifted woman I know!

Let me tell you about my mother.  

Florence Campbell at age 18

Florence Campbell was born in a small farming community in Southern Utah nearly 100 years ago.  It was a time when families spent all of their time together and everyone pitched in to keep the farms and families going.  They were made of the glue that held our country together during tough times.  It was in the humble Campbell home that my mother learned the art of homemaking.  And she did it in record time, for her mother left this earthly realm when mother was just 13 years old.  She learned from her amazing mother--an example to all who knew her-- how to bake bread, sew her own clothes (sometimes by hand,) wash and iron them using crude implements; and she learned the joy of service.

When my mother met my dad, it was not love at first sight.  In fact, she had just been abandoned at a dance by her date (my dad's brother!)  And, being the gentleman that my dad was, he felt it was the "right thing to do" to take her home.  The rest, as they say, is history.

Harvey and Florence Davenport
50th Wedding Anniversary

My mom was the perfect wife and mother and my dad sang her praises on more than one occasion.  He knew she was that one special gift from God, saved just for him.  He knew she would be an outstanding mother.  And she never let him down.

To me (and to my brother and sisters) she was an angel living on earth.  She tried to teach us the "fine art of homemaking," but, alas, some of us just didn't have the patience for it.  Of course, I can only speak for myself, but I did my chores and never left the house until they were done.   My mind, while working as fast as I could, was constantly on moving on to better things--like playing with my friends.  Today, I am thankful for her patience.

Florence Davenport, age 25

I will never be able to fill my mother's shoes, but I did glean some valuable lessons from her.  I learned to love unconditionally; I learned the satisfying feeling one gets inside when your work produces a shiny, clean house; I learned to duplicate the pungent smells that come from freshly baked bread or chocolate chip cookies; I learned that music can fill your heart as well as your hearth and calm even the angriest beast; and finally, I have learned that the Gospel of Jesus Christ completes me.  God's plan of happiness brings joy into my life each day that I live.

I see my mother's teaching reflected in my own children and grandchildren.  And I know that If I did anything right in teaching them the values of this life, it is because of my mother's teachings that stuck with me.

Florence Davenport, age 85

My angel mother departed this earth on Mother's Day, May 12, 2002.  It was a day of sorrow and it was a day of joy.  Sorrow because I would never hold her beautiful hands in mine on this earth and tell her how very much I love her; and joy, because I know she is no longer in excruciating pain and has passed through the veil into the loving arms of my dad.  She lived a good life; she was faithful to the end...and I know she heard the words of our Savior, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant."

I love you, Mom!
Happy Mother's Day!

Blessings In And Through My Life's Journey...

Occasionally I am moved to examine my soul for (1) What has blessed my life; (2) Where I am on my journey's path; and (3) Where do I stand in the light of my Heavenly Father's love?

Today, which marks the true and actual birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and also the day in 1830 which brought the organization of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints back to the earth, I was moved by the words of one of God's servants, Deiter F. Uchtdorf of the First Presidency, when he challenged us to give our thanks "in" the trials of our lives.  His words were echoed by Brother Bednar of the Council of the Twelve, when he suggested that it was the "loads" of our lives that give us traction to carry on.

What wonderful and uplifting words for us in these latter-days.  These are truly trying times for many of us.  But, we need not lose hope, because our lives...each and every one of them...are being watched over so very carefully by a loving Heavenly Father, and our strength is in His Son, Jesus Christ.  I can bear testimony that it is because of these truths that are evident in my own life, that the "yoke" which I bear in company of my Savior is "easy, and my burden is light."

To answer the first query, "What has blessed my life?"... the Gospel of Jesus Christ sits at the very top of that list, along with His unequaled Atonement that has sustained me through each and every trial.  Many times, I have tried to imagine my life without the Gospel of Jesus Christ in it and I cannot!  There was a seemingly long period of time when that blessing was taken away from me, and I walked in darkness without the blessing of the Holy Ghost to guide me.  I was left with only the teachings of my youth by goodly parents, who never gave up on me, to fall back on.  That and the testimony that I had built in my life sustained me.  And, it is the belief of my heart that my Savior, Jesus Christ, never gave up on me, either.  I struggled and clawed my way out of that deep, dark pit of despair, always focusing on the light at the top, until I regained most of the ground that I had lost.  And my life has never been the same since.

As to the second question, "Where am I on my journey's path?"...  In my heart of hearts, I believe I am inching ever closer to the end of my journey.  And the Lord has whispered to me that I still have much to do here.  Some promptings have made it very clear to me what those "things" are, while others have not yet been made known to me.  I keep searching for those latter answers.

Nearly two years ago, I was facing a life threatening situation in my journey and for a time I did not know what the outcome would be.  But, through the power of the Priesthood and a healing blessing given to me by an Elder in our Church, the Holy Ghost witnessed to me that my journey was not yet complete...that there was still much for me to do.  Ever since that experience, I have queried, just what is it that I need to accomplish?  One of the answers that has come to me is the engrossing work of genealogy.  Currently, I am searching out the stories of my ancestors, as much of their work has been done for them.  When I am focused, I cannot put the work down!  It consumes me.

Another prompting that has came to me as I was contemplating my purpose is following the spirit to re-unite with my husband, Dean Mickelson, was the need to gather all that I can of his genealogy, because I was impressed that his ancestors are calling to me to do something to get their names to the Temple.  In that endeavor, I have gathered all that is available to me; I try diligently to be an example to my husband and his family; and perhaps one day, this work will be done.  I don't know how the Lord will help me accomplish this task, but I trust that He will.

As I near the last days of my sojourn on this earth, I feel confident...more and more every day...that my Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, loves me and that He is mindful of my journey. And that brings me to the third question, "Where do I stand in the light of my Heavenly Father's love?"  It illuminates my very being and keeps me moving forward on His path.  Oh, there are days, when the adversary gets in my head and tells me, "it is too hard, I cannot keep it up," and I work all the harder to push those thoughts away.  There are other times when I feel that my tempter has won and my patience with those around me has grown ever thinner and I lose my temper, only to beg forgiveness moments later when I realize what I have or am doing.

I am so grateful for days like this one, that make me stop and ponder and reflect and renew my faith in my Testimony of Jesus Christ.  Like my mother before me, I pray that I may endure to the very end whatever the Lord has to bring into my life.  I am so grateful for her's and my father's examples that sustain me, and I truly look forward to the day when I can run first into the arms of my Savior as He examines my life's journey, and second into the arms of my parents.

A Concert That Took Me Back Forty-seven Years...

This writing is dedicated to all those CHICAGO fans that caught their fire way back in the late 60's.  I was one of them!  And, I have to say, so were my teen-age kids!  I can't say for sure (because this very old brain of mine does forget some facts), but I believe they were one of the first Rock groups (along with the EAGLES) to include brass and reed instruments in their music.  I loved it then, and I love it still today...

Dean and I went to a concert in Grand Ronde to see the "old men" perform.  We were not disappointed.  They might have aged, like we all seem to do, but their music is just as fresh as it was more than 40 years ago.  The band today consists of  four of the originals, and some new faces.  We watched, got into the swing of things, clapped and yelled until we were hoarse.  And we came away from the concert feeling (almost) 40 years younger!

I am going to include several of the pictures here that Dean was able to snap.  Please pardon if some of them are a bit blurry.  I love them because they give me a memory of an unforgettable evening.

The entire band..."Rockin' Guitar!"

The best "horns" I have ever heard!

Trombone player extraordinaire!

Magnificent trumpet...best anywhere!

Sizzlin' Sax!

Let me talk about these three guys...  The Trombone player, Jimmy Pankow, in my opinion...and I'm pretty sure Dean would agree...was the life of the group.  In fact most of the songs throughout the years were written by this man.  He was absolutely amazing!  Walter Parazaider, Sax player, was also one of the originals and by far the best sax I have heard in a very long time.  And the Trumpet player, Lee Loughnane, blew Dean away.  Being a trumpet player himself, he can appreciate the gift this man has.

This drummer, Tris Imboden, joined the group in 1990 and was absolutely amazing as a solo drummer!  I think I could see smoke arising out of the drum set at one point!  Wow!  Loved every minute of it.  I think my Son-in-Law, Rich could really appreciate this one!  Rich...if you ever get a chance, you should go see these guys!

Their versatile Lead Singer/keyboard player/acoustic guitar player, Robert Lamm, still has the magic in his signature voice.  He was the originator of Chicago.  In the beginning (1967), they called themselves Chicago Transit Authority.  Remember that?  I do!  Somehow, I suddenly was taken back 40+ years and saw the younger band again.  I hope they never stop playing their music.

Other members of today's band include: Keith Howland on the rockin' guitar; Jason Scheff on the bass; Lou Pardini on keyboard and vocals; and Walfredo Rayez, Jr on percussion.  They all add to a very tight sound that is as relevant today as it was in the beginning.  BTW...they are about to release a brand new album sometime in July!  Can't wait for that!

I am going to close this writing with a  borrowed quote from Robert Lamm which expresses exactly what every one in the audience felt.  "While our music plays through the soundtrack of your lives, it resonates on the soundtrack of our own."  I love that!  It is so true.  Music has that capacity to resonate on our own soundtracks.  Every song evokes a memory.

Chicago, the early years.

Chicago today.

An Academy Award Picture I Actually Agree With...

Where has this story been hiding?  This is a story that needed to be told, and I am grateful for Producer, Brad Pitt, for bringing it forward.  I have not been this moved by a story since our recent exposure to "Son of God."  (And I will write about that one also, very soon.)

It doesn't matter which side of the Political aisle you are on, or which ethnic culture you base your roots on.  It is a "human" story of man's inhumanity to man.  It is a story of hate and greed, survival and fear.  It is a story that is repeated far too often in the history books.  It is a story that sometimes gets glossed over in those same books by men (or women) who choose their sides carefully and tell a very tainted story only based upon their own perspective.

But this story...the story of Solomon, a "free man" who was kidnapped and sold into slavery...is a true story.  And, I warn you that some of it is hard to watch.  One single thread kept weaving itself through my brain as the story unfolded.  It was the common thread of injustice.  And I found myself recalling another man who was a good man, and yet hated by those who sought to destroy him.  The only difference was that that man was not given a just trial nor was he set free...at least not in the sense that Solomon was set free.

Our Lord and Savior was that other man.  He, too was hated and for a mere 30 pieces of silver was betrayed.  He was stripped of his dignity, received many stripes before the ultimate inhumane act of nailing Him to a tree.  

Ask yourself, how many times must we watch the killing, maiming, beating or just plain dastardly treatment of God's children before the human race gets the story?  How many more must suffer for "30 pieces of silver" before we come to understand that we are all God's children?  I don't care what color your skin is or what your ethnic background is or where you went to school or which side of the railroad tracks you grew up on.  We are all brothers and sisters and until we "get it" we are going to be bombarded with more of the same.

My heart breaks for those slaves in the early history of this country.  But, I fear that if we don't pull on the brakes and stop traveling down a similar path that history is going to repeat itself.  Who will be America's next slaves?  Who will find themselves in bondage to another evil master?  Jesus Christ suffered great and unspeakable suffering in the Garden and He hung on the Cross for each and every one of us.  Isn't it about time we all stop dead in our tracks and give thanks for that sacrifice made for us?

Perhaps Solomon paid an awful price with his suffering at the hands of the slave masters, but perhaps his story and many more like his were the inspiration that Lincoln felt when he fought so diligently for in freeing the slaves.  Could we have done a better job?  Perhaps.  But, it was one of the great "tipping-points" in our American History.

Thank you, Solomon, for sharing your story.