Another Tender Mercy

The prison bus dropped Andy off in Sayre, Oklahoma to spend the next however many years, not Mississippi!  What a surprise! Still far away from home, but at least closer than the deep southern state.  I wanted to find out if there were any LDS services at the prison so I checked on lds.org's meetinghouse locator.  I called the Bishop of the nearest Ward to ask if he knew of any members who might have a prison ministry.  There aren't.  I noticed the town of Edmond, Ok on the locator.  I have a friend who lives there who just happens to be the Stake President.  I asked the Bishop's wife (he wasn't home) if the name of their Stake President is Kevin Graves. YES!  Sister Turner also told me there is an LDS guard at the prison who belongs to their Ward, and that my friend is Andy's Stake President!  Needless to say I've talked to my friend and he is going to do all he can to reach out to my son.  He is thrilled with the opportunity to fellowship him.  I remember when Kevin was in our Bishopric here, how tickled he would get as he visited the Primary and watched Andy, as a Sunbeam, crawl around me and under my dress when I would conduct Primary.  He knows my son, and he loves him.  What a sweet Mother's Day gift to me.     

A Little Rain Must Fall ...

We got a letter from Andy yesterday telling us he was being transferred to Mississippi on April 25th--a 39 hour uncomfortable bus trip shackled in chains, as he explained.  So he's there today.  My heart broke for him.  He sounded resolved that this is the way it is, but if I could read between the lines, I'm sure he feels a loss being moved from his home state. What makes me sad is he won't ever have any visitors in Mississippi; we could have visited here.  But after having a such a sweet tender mercy (the brother I met in the temple did visit with Andy in the La Palma correctional facility!) in the temple I have to trust and believe that God knows what is best for my son and His son.  

I've been thinking about something for a long time, probably more so since I've been volunteering at Superior Court. I have watched orange clad prisoners, handcuffed together, being led into court. They are there for a wide variety of reasons.  I look at those men and women and think about my handcuffed son wearing prison clothing in some remote prison far away from home.  Then I remember  the sweet baby I gave birth to.  He was pure, he was innocent, clean, perfect in every way.  Every human being came into the world that very same way.  I loved that baby, and I love the man he is now.  I pray he will be protected and he will soon understand why he is where he is.

A Tender Mercy

In March Andy wrote and said he was being transferred from California to either Oklahoma or Mississippi.  His dad looked on the California Prison website and read that Andy was sent to La Palma Correctional Center in Eloy, Arizona!  We kept hoping for a letter from our son to verify that he was sent there and how he felt about it, but no word.  I felt some concern, but can't really do too much about that except pray, of course.

Tuesday I was in the temple sealing office waiting to participate in the sealing ordinance for about 50 family names.  While I was sitting there a fellow was asked if he was still doing his prison ministry.  I perked up immediately.  Then he was asked where?  My jawed dropped and tears filled my eyes when he said, "La Palma."  I whispered to him that my son had just been transferred there.  He asked me for Andy's name and said he would do what he can to invite him to their meeting on Thursday nights.  The temple worker came up to me and said, "I hope you realize you have just experienced a tender mercy from the Lord, and that happens all the time in the temple."

That very day when I got home a letter was waiting for me from Andy.  He wrote that his window faces the southwest towards the Tortolita mountains near our home. Another tender mercy.          

 

A Christmas Gift

In 2005 Andy went to Hawaii with us.  I have a picture of him giving me a big hug in front of this beautiful waterfall on the Big Island.  He's not in this picture taken by me in October, 2011.

I miss him, but either I have put up a wall, blocked out that part of my life, or I feel at peace.  I'm not really sure, I just know I don't think about him in prison too often.  He is in every prayer I utter, but I don't cry very much anymore because he is serving time. Our family was given a neat gift this Christmas to help bring him back into my thoughts.  We were getting ready to sit down for Christmas dinner which was prepared and served a few days before Christmas because someone was flying out the next day.  The doorbell rang.  I answered the door, but for a few seconds didn't recognize the young man standing on the steps. Then I realized it was a kid Andy hung out with in middle school and years after.  Of course I invited him to dinner which he accepted.  We had a delightful Christmas dinner laughing and reminiscing about him and Andy.  This young man lives in Colorado and was visiting his family.

After Todd left I thought to myself, what are the chances of this happening?  Was he led by the spirit to visit us at that time on this very day? I believe he was because of the sweet thoughts and memories that were generated in my heart of my youngest son.  I am very grateful.   

The Reason for the Season

We get a letter from Andy about every two or three weeks.  He can't call us like he used to, even collect.  It's good to get letters from him, and I think it's good for him to write because it gives him a chance to think deeper than, "hi mumsy, hi pops!"  I don't miss his phone calls, but I do like to read his letters.  He is changing.  I can tell by what he says that he's beginning to feel remorse for what he has done to his family.  He's understanding that life is not just about him, but also involves that group of people he grew up with.  He admits the wrong we do affects and hurts others, especially those closest to us. I will not expect nor hold my breath that "he's a changed man."  Not yet anyway.  I believe that takes time, lots of it, and there hasn't been enough time.

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I visited Temple Square in Salt Lake City last week to look at the Christmas lights, oh, what a beautiful heavenly land.  My seven year old grandson said almost reverently, "Grandma, it is so beautiful." He could feel the Christmas spirit or rather the spirit of Christmas.  I could, too.  This is a picture from the outside of the visitor's center of the Christus statue. It looks as if the Christ is floating in the air looking down on His people. I know there will come a day when Andy will repent fully, and he will be forgiven by the Great Healer.  That is the hope I cling to. 

Allegory of the Little Stream

I went to college a long time ago at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. In the summertime I make a yearly trek back to the school for some enrichment education.  This year I found something had changed on the lower part of campus.  Let me set the scene for you:  BYU is located in the foothills of the majestic Wasatch Mountains.  They are spectacular.  When I was a student, the southern hill leading to campus was well manicured with walkways, grass, lots of trees and a botany pond.  Following one of the trails you would see a slow moving stream meandering its way down and around the hill.  It was pretty, serene and peaceful.  Many engagements have taken place at the Botany Pond.  And unfortunately since "there needs be opposition in all things" danger lurked at night as many young coeds have been attacked there as well.  We were always warned never to go through the area alone at night.

I heard the BYU Ground's Crew had been consructing with rocks and waterfalls on the already beautiful pathway and stream.  I wanted to check it out and this is what I found:        

One of many waterfalls along the walkway.

This almost looks like an ancient Greek ruin. 

I have been studying the Allegory of the Tame and Wild Olive Tree found in The Book of Mormon, Jacob 5. The chapter heading says the tame and wild olive tree are a likeness to Israel and the Gentiles.  I see a meaning more personal to me.  The Lord of the vineyard would not give up on the decaying trees, he grafted, digged about, pruned and nourished His trees. He even planted some in the nethermost part of the garden where possibly the ground wasn't as fertile. I might be simplifying this very long chapter in the book of Jacob, but I draw the sweet conclusion that I must not ever give up on my children.

So what does this allegory have to do with the little stream?  The walkway along the south end of campus was lovely.  Then servants digged about, raked, placed local stones, figured out how to make waterfalls, and nourished the new plants to make the area at the south end of campus even more lovely.  I wonder if the water or the pathway or if the rocks could talk they might say it was painful to be changed.  Andy is being changed.  It is painful.  Could it be more painful for me than him?  Could I be the one who is being changed?

Andy was sentenced a few weeks ago: 12 years in a state correctional facility, PRISON. I dreaded the day when he would call and tell us the consequences of his court hearings.  Just thinking about it made me sick to my stomach. After hearing that 12 years actually means 6 years and the fact he has served nine months already, he may be there less than 5 years.  Certainly long enough, but hopefully long enough for a change.  I hope both of us change for the better as we are being pruned, grafted, and digged about.  Andy might be in the nethermost part of the vineyard, but he will still be nourished so he can grow and produce sweet, edible fruit.              

"You Knew What I Was Before You Picked Me Up"

I love the Indian legend about the young brave who was sent into the mountains for his initiation into the tribe's elite brotherhood of warriors, a very desired place to be for a young man.  Before his descent from the top of the mountain the young Indian brave noticed a snake at his feet.  The snake said he was very cold and wondered if the young brave could put him in his pocket just for a little while.  The soon to be warrior asked the snake if he was crazy.  "But I'm cold, just for a short time.  Please.  I won't hurt you, I promise."  Soon the snake was riding warm and comfortable inside the brave's buckskin shirt.  Just as they reached the base of the mountain, the snake bit the Indian boy, forcing his poisonous venom inside the boy's veins.  "Why did you do that for?  You said you wouldn't hurt me," screamed the boy.  "You knew what I was when you piked me up," hissed the deadly snake. 

The moral of the story is, don't touch anything that has the potential to harm you, even though it may seem innocent and harmless.