What should I gift to my father on father's day?

What should I gift to my father on father's day?

That depends !  J  Who do you consider your father?

This may seem a bizarre question, but let me strive to explain, hopefully in a way to bring understanding:

A bird creates a nest, releases fertilized eggs from within her body, then sits upon them to keep the eggs at a stable warm temperature to allow for their further development.  After the maturation is complete within that cramped sphere, a young bird cracks open her shell, emerges from her “womb” which would have become her “tomb” if she had stayed longer, and gradually becomes comfortable with the next stage of her life in her new world… the nest.  Here, the mother, not the egg via the mother, but the mother directly (and/ or father) feed the hatchling from their own mouth.  The tiny bird sees her parent fly off, returning some time later with yummy food which is transferred from mother’s beak to child’s mouth, thus appeasing the gnawing pain felt in its stomach. 

Mother birds have sufficient wisdom to understand that this tiny new creature is still dependent upon her for its continued life.  She also understands that neither her life nor her child’s is complete if she overdoes her role and continues to care for her growing young after it has developed to a point of being capable of caring for itself.  Thus, the time eventually comes when the young bird MUST venture forth from its second womb, the nest, and seek its own food.  Sometimes, the bird’s attempt is not successful and, instead of discovering its wings and flight, it plummets down to the ground and meets an untimely demise.  Other times, its second birth… into the heights and breadths of a three dimensional world… is successful.  Then, this maturing bird is entitled to enjoy another reality:  It can FLY!  Eventually, this next stage might allow her to find a mate for herself and go through her own scenario of bearing eggs and raising progeny.  Always, the goal is to maintain a balance so that all generations’ life cycles are correctly and successfully realized and all of nature remains in relative harmony. 

Although birds hatch and quickly appear very much like their parent, some animals go through various stages of transformation until their final body type.  A caterpillar must maneuver through egg, worm, cocoon, and finally, butterfly.  Each stage requires a different skill set, a different appetite and food source, and a different body.  A tadpole first emerges as an egg, and then begins to grow a tail, and then feet, finally losing his tail as his gills develop into lungs.  This newly developed creature, a frog, in no way resembling its original “self,” must now leave his world of water and be “born again” into an atmosphere of oxygen.  To fail to correctly and completely take a breath of air means sure and sudden death, even after successful completion of each former stage.

Is man any different?

No, not in the ways that he has arrogantly and ignorantly assumed!  Yet, because there is no correct “vision, the people perish.”  We have, as a culture, bought into a severely lowered understanding of our potential, individually and globally.  In our collective ignorance, we have accepted half-truths and false understandings. We have been accepting, “honoring,” and paying tribute to the wrong “fathers!”  J

Stay with me here….  J

Are You My Mother is a simple, well-loved children’s classic that I have read scores of times to children who see the gentle humor, feeling the growing tension of the search, as a little bird seeks to find his “mother.”  The book opens with a mother bird sitting on her egg. When the egg begins to move, she leaves the nest to find some food for her anticipated baby. In her absence, the egg hatches, and the hatchling sets out in search of his mother. He asks a kitten, a hen, a dog, and a cow if they are his mother and each, more or less, say "no." He sees a rusty car, a far-away boat, and an airplane, questioning each of them, “are YOU my mother?” only to determine that, no, they each fail his test. Finally, he finds a construction digger, which he calls a “Snort.”  The digger lifts him high in the air, frightening him terribly, then drops him back into his nest where he meets his mother as she is returning home from her own quest.  Snuggling together at last, the bird (and each child) feels deeply reassured that his world is safe and secure once again.   He has found his rightful mother. 

So, what does this have to do with the question of a gift for Father’s Day?  Please… allow me to expand your awareness on this MOST important of ALL topics.  J  (Although my thesis is NOT “religious,” I will expose hidden jewels from several avenues.  There is SOOOO much to glean on this subject.  What I share here, because of my desire to be as concise as possible, will merely scratch the surface and warrants many more disclosures.  I suggest that each reader with determination to understand, open her heart and mind and sincerely ask for further insight.)

Okay.  Here goes:  J

Many religions have specific rites of passage.  One shared by most is some form of “baptism,” in which the initiate is symbolically washed clean with water.  Within the LDS religion, the baptism is not considered complete unless it is followed by the “confirmation” ordinance.  Clueless to its hidden symbology, most “religious” people, including the LDS, fail to understand the deep significance of their confirmation.  The mandate is:  “Receive the Holy Ghost.”

When a tender infant leaves his mother’s womb and is, thus, born of the water(s), because his spiritual eyes are still immature, he quickly closes them and adopts (as prophesied) “eyes that do not see, ears that do not hear.”  Thus, in his spiritual “blindness,” he fails to realize that his initial birth into the world of matter is merely a temporary “second womb,” the womb of spirit or emotion.  Only when a person spiritually (emotionally) matures (which usually takes many, many life times!) and completes his spiritual (emotional) journey concomitantly with his physical development, is his original goal realized.  (Picture the analogy in fairy tale of “Beauty” finding the “Beast” and the two falling in love… of necessity BEFORE “the last rose petal falls”… or rather, death ensues.) 

The baptism (for those who believe in and use its veracity) is merely a “second chance” on one’s first birth.  Coming out of the water, dripping wet and symbolically naked (in pure white clothes), the initiate has been “washed clean” and is allowed another opportunity to start afresh to live “right-use-ly.”  An absolute and zealous change of mind (“repentance”) with an accompanying determination to live in accord with the highest within one’s self is a personal, non-religious “baptism.”  However, again, this physical birth and subsequent baptism only signify the “FIRST birth.”  “Must” allows no wiggle room.  There is a mandate:  “Man MUST be born AGAIN or he can in no wise enter the kingdom of heaven.”  Another birth is requisite.

As Jesus taught Nicodemus:  a man (EVERY human) MUST be “born again”… of “the spirit,” the whole spirit or Holy Spirit. 

The grave is not the goal!  As is promised throughout fairytales, scripture, myth, the LDS Endowment, and, most of all, within humanity’s inner “knowing,” death is NOT the front door into heaven.  It is the back, revolving door. To “run and not be weary, to walk and not faint” and to have “the destroying angel pass one by,” to receive “immortality and eternal life”… IS the goal.    Dying is merely a failed attempt at reaching one’s final destination. 

Purposely synchronized, one’s “Father” awaits each “hide and seek” quest, eager and ready to provide all that was formerly promised:  “Health in the navel, marrow in the bones, strength in the loins and in the sinews….”  There has never been a greater gift promised.  Never a more sincere mandate:  “RECEIVE the Holy Ghost!”… the proffered gift.

There is only ONE “True” Father for each one of us.  “He” is the one that will feed his mortal avatar correctly and guide him or her to a complete and final merger with all its promised reward.  Thus, the body and spirit (whole, holy emotional well-being [JOY]) becoming one inseparably connected and immortal “Soul.”

Although this truth is naively promoted by many in the statement:  “I am a child of God,” out of the other side of their mouth and a second after singing this song, they may be discussing the inevitability of their death.  WHAT?!  If a tadpole were to promote that he was a child of a frog, and yet fail to continue his full development into froghood, dying in complacency, that would be a lamentable thing!

Having precious and respectful love for each human on this planet, still, my role is to “pull the rug out from under” mortality’s feet and remind those prepared of their original, implanted goal.  Yes, I will continue to rock your foundation!  J  A mortal, biological “father,” one who contributes his DNA upon conception, is intended to be a source of protection, assistance and nurturing for his progeny.  BUT ONLY UNTIL THAT CHILD MATURES PHYSICALLY.  It is intended that that child is raised correctly into respect for himself and all others and mentored how to maintain his emotional stability, also by the time of physical maturity.  This is spiritual maturity.  At that point, the child-parent relationship is then re-defined as one of equals.  The two are now equal, respectful, global siblings… just like everyone else. 

To endeavor to enforce a permanent relationship of “father/ mother à son/ daughter” is a horrendous disservice.  That is the mamma bird disallowing her child from finding her own wings and creating her own life… as an equal.  We are ONE global family; all “brothers” and “sisters.”  The LDS Church’s “eternal family” focus has created confusion, heartache, and contributed significantly to the rising generations’ suicide epidemic.  Again, we are ALL ONE GLOBAL FAMILY of siblings.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathers her chicks, and yet ye would not.…”

When the still, small, inner voice (of one’s “Father”) is not heard or collides with the pleading or demanding outer voice of the biological parent who insists that NO, *HE* is the one who should be “honored” that the child’s “days may be long upon the land,” the cognitive dissonance that ensues has left in its wake confusion, depression, anger, and… often led to what appears to be the only way out… ending the great tug-of-war.  But, this emotional and mental “Armageddon” could lead to “rest,” “revival,” and “the front door” into “heaven,” if only one knew that that front door exists and is possible. Yet, there HAVE been some who have found this very door, leaving clues to its existence and pathway.

The Greatest Gift one can give one’s mortal father, mother, sister, brother, neighbor, self… is to accept the gift from one’s TRUE Eternal “Father” of “receiving the Holy Ghost.”  Yet, “He” will “force no man to heaven.”   His gift must be truly wanted.  Tried and discarded must be one’s selfish individual “free” will.  In its place, with confidence and humility must be the declaration:  “THY will be done.”  I want what THOU wants for me, not what my without-wisdom avatar THINKS it wants.  And what is the True Eternal “Father’s” Will?  To grant each and every one of us, His children, with “immortality and eternal life,” living in a restored “paradisiacal” earth where there is NO POOR among us and we each and all live with mutual respect and honor for each other.  THIS is eternal family life.

When our decisions are ALL made from the sincere lens of “what is best for everyone?” versus “what do I (which includes my own biological family) want?” then we are likely gifting “an acceptable gift” for our True Father.  We are then helping Him in His work and His glory (“to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man”).  Anything less is a fleeting and corrupt gift while refusing “His” proffered gift, and contributes to the disintegration of global harmony, working against the Father and His work for all of his global family:  to provide ALL of His children with their basic necessities and to protect their self will as they pursue happiness in their journey of finding Him… and eternal life. 

Here is the link for us to globally and as one united family put the Father’s Plan into action:  http://www.humanityparty.com/

Exactly one year ago this “Father’s Day”:  June 18, 2016, I experienced what few currently on this planet have experienced.  I merged, once again, with my own Eternal Father.  I received “His” gift.  My receipt of “His” gift to me was the greatest Father’s Day gift I could ever give “Him.”  I wrote about my experience in the following link: 

http://loveistheanswer-kimberly.blogspot.com/2016/07/free-will-isnt-free_8.html

Because of the unspeakable JOY I felt, and continue to feel continually, every day of my life, MY next pursuit is fulfilling my responsibility to assist any other so desirous of receiving and giving that same unfathomable gift.  Oh, how I longingly look forward to a grand, global “Father’s Day!”  J

So… “How is this done, you ask?”  Oh, I am so glad that you are curious!  I would love to demonstrate.  Stay tuned…..

Going “Home”

April 22, 2001, a day that could have been just “an ordinary Sunday” for most anyone else… changed my life in a pivotal way. Probably the synchronicity of events worked perfectly in my behalf. I had given birth to Harmony (my 8th child) the previous August and “taken off” the next two or three Sundays, enjoying being home alone with just my new little angel. Then, for most of the next few months, I was a regular substitute in either the youngest Primary classes, Primary Chorister, or with the nursery toddlers. I realized that being with these young children and sharing the pure, undiluted principles of “the gospel,” (basically, “be kind because everyone is your neighbor”, etc.) was what the gospel of Jesus Christ was really all about. That was exactly where “Jesus” would have chosen to be.  These children were warm, responsive and had “the Mormon Glow” (see my answer to this question if interested).  Although I did maintain my monthly Relief Society teaching calling for the sisters, most of my church experiences were, for those several months, with the pure-in-heart children.

However, after taking Parker (my 7th child, two years old at that time) to his nursery class on this particular morning, I realized that “Since I’m not substituting today, I guess it’s time for me to attend class with my age-peers.”  This choice allowed for a pivotal experience. Sitting near the back of the chapel in the Gospel Doctrine class, I saw my dear friends in attendance, watched a man I very much liked “teach” them from the “authorized” material, and yet I saw, superimposed over the scene, this “teacher” plugging pacifiers into the adult “students’” mouths and “lulling them off to sleep” with his words, words that came from a prescribed book from the “authorities.” It seemed to me that the members were zombies just sitting in attendance for their “weekly transfusion.”

As I sat there and allowed myself to just open up my gaze and look, really look, I was seeing the same scene I had seen multiple times throughout my life; and yet my eyesight now seemed to have changed. My dear friends were nothing but robots… lukewarm child robots with no blood pumping in their own veins, no life in their eyes, no passion moving them. My heart felt ready to break. I had seen them before, of course, I had sat through literally thousands of Sunday School classes. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, things seemed to have changed. Or was it me?

Stunned at this familiar scene that I was finally really witnessing, I watched… really watched… for several minutes. Then, in despair, I offered up a silent prayer, “Father, what do I do? What do I do?!”

“Go home,” I felt in answer.

In amazement, I did go home. But not immediately. Having never even ditched a class in high school and having given 1000% of myself to “the church” throughout my entire life, this moment was a real struggle within me as I initially tried to subjugate what felt to be a bizarre call to rebellion.  And, though I took it somewhat quickly, I unconsciously allowed myself to break it down into steps.

I went first to my (then) husband’s 14-year-old Sunday School class. Here was the same scenario acted out, just with younger actors and on a smaller stage. The seven or eight teenagers in attendance were anywhere but within their physical bodies sitting on those metal chairs. Looking around, I saw the glazed look of the eyes and the body language that communicated that they were merely “doing their time.”

David was teaching about Joseph Smith’s “first visitation”—an experience that, to my understanding at that time was a profoundly pivotal and thrilling experience that could give LIFE to anyone who listened with ears to hear and a heart to understand. Yet, David droned on in the same robotic re-hashing that these youngsters had probably heard scores of times before. After a few minutes, I smiled a weak “thank you and excuse me,” gathered up Harmony and my bags and… walked the few blocks home.

Putting my baby down to sleep, I stretched myself out on my bed and let sobs shatter forth from my body. My heart was breaking open, letting many years of unexpressed confusion and emotion flow out. I bawled. I pounded my fists upon the mattress. I sobbed sobs which had yearned for release for quite some time. Finally, I was able to speak: “Father, I would scrub toilets for the rest of my life if that would help you in your kingdom. Where do you want me? Where can I serve you the most?”

In answer, I received, “You can serve me the most where your heart feels the most comfortable” (repeated three times). I marveled as the words sank in… deeper and deeper. I pondered. I was “still” and waited… and as my heart warmed and expanded to allow understanding to open up to me, I “listened” to my feelings, my inner wisdom.

Where DID I feel comfortable? In the church that I had thought every day of my life was HIS? I had to admit, no. Although I had for all of my life desired to attend and serve within it, I no longer did. My attempts now felt fruitless.

I was then told, “Then I don’t want you there.”

I pondered on the myriads of opportunities that I had been given and accepted in my attempts to pour forth the intensity of my love, faith and enthusiasm for living what I believed with all of my heart to be “the true gospel of Jesus Christ” with its “saving ordinances” to my fellow brothers and sisters. (I had had my first “calling” in “the church” at 13 years old, as Primary Pianist.  I had since been Laurel Class President, had given the Commencement speech in High School Seminary Graduation, served and presided over thousands of young adults at BYU as the Stake Activities Director [in the now Provo Tabernacle turned Temple], been Stake Primary President at the young age of 25, served in several other stake and ward leadership positions over the next decade, completely supported my husband in his Bishopric and Stake callings, contributed whole-heartedly in each and every way I possibly could throughout my nearly 40 years of life.

I had intently and with real desire to KNOW and APPLY the jewels of the Book of Mormon to my life read and studied it dozens of times and over thousands of hours.)  I thought of the many times I had attended classes and activities with the prayer in my heart to be “His voice,” “His hands,” “as He directs.” So often I had sensed the apparent life-lessness of others in attendance, and yet I had felt and convinced myself that my love and passion could and really would help. Now, however, I had changed. And as I opened up to a literal course-change, it was with some trepidation and unknowing, yet with conviction and a reservoir of peace that empowered me. In awe and amazement, I realized that… I was not going back.

Needless to say, this caused no small stir within my world. After a few weeks of not attending and of gently requesting to the Relief Society President to be released from my teaching calling among the women, the Bishop called and asked to talk with me. He and others assumed that I must have had my feelings hurt in some way or another. I had not. I just simply did not “fit” in their church any more. I was realizing that my “church” inside me was far more real than any mortal sanctuary and its proscribed regulations.

I also realized, and claimed the right to have no “middle-man” in my personal and very real relationship with divinity. I wanted out of any and all “boxes.” I wanted the FULLNESS of truth… with no barriers, no walls. I wanted to know the REAL truth and to let that truth completely set me free.

I saw the handful of times that I had gone to my “Bishops,” “Stake Presidency” or “Temple Workers” with sincere questions and needs… only to feel that “they were just as ignorant as anyone else, only some of them placed themselves higher than others upon the hierarchy of mankind. The reason why not one of them ever had offered me a surer link to “God” than I had manifested repeatedly for myself by myself was because… none of them could! They were simply other human beings wandering blindly down their own paths, unaware of the pure and piercing lights of their own souls, thus, unable to be a light for me or anyone else!

Now, however, the bishop implored me to come back, stating that “many women in the ward had said that they didn’t feel the spirit any more without (me) in their classes.” I looked him deeply in the eyes and said, “Bishop, the women and the ward do NOT need ME, they need to find the Spirit for themselves. I will always continue to love them and desire to be their friend as long as they would like, but I am choosing to no longer participate in the church.” I pondered on what I should do with my church “membership,” but felt impressed to, “Let them do with you whatsoever they wish.”

My children each came to me within the next few days (although my oldest one did not for a few weeks) and asked if they could stay home with me and have me teach them on Sundays, each expressing their own “reason” and feelings. I always responded that, as always, I wanted them to tune into, listen to and follow their own divine direction, and that I would support the direction that they felt to go. Thus began some tremendously liberating and wondrously fun Sundays.

David, however, was intensely afraid and confused, expressing great anger. How DARE I give up on that which was the most important element in life… the “one and only true church upon the earth?!”

But, I did dare.  And, looking back, it is that very courage, that element that said, “I want truth at ALL costs!” that paved my way and prepared me for life “beyond.” That same daring continues to lead me further still.  I have NO REGRETS that I was originally raised with the gospel according to “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.”  Because I had not read nor sought “anti” materials, was not “offended,” and because I did not yet utilize the internet that swiftly then became available, I truly followed no one, but my own inner compass.  However, since that day in April, 2001, I have been led to further and further amazing truths that have shed profound light on, “the church” and the Book of Mormon, Joseph Smith, Jr., the Endowment and Temple Work, Jesus Christ,  the “priesthood,” etc. etc. etc.  Truly, following with greater and greater confidence and clarity, “this little light of mine” inside has brought me the precious “pearl of great price,” and, yes, “the Truth, the Real Truth, has set me free!”

My joys, my understandings, my true relationships, my “Knowing” of “Jesus the Christ” and all those I had so earnestly sought to “Know” for those prior 40 years, has come to fruition.  Not within any man-made walls or sanctuaries, but within my own  physical frame, I have found “the peace that passeth all understanding.”  (All of that, and so much more, I will save for later posts.)  For those who need to be pacified, need “the milk of the gospel,” let them suck where their hearts feel the most comfortable, whomever their surrogate parent.    For me, I want to experience and understand the heights, the depths, all that was originally promised me.  No “robotic” life for me!  Although I want this for everyone else, too, I realize that we all have our own time table.  Though my “leaving” the LDS Church caused great rifts in many lives, I have since come to peace for those others as well, knowing that we each get that which we really, truly want.  For those who want that which the LDS Church offers, I truly support their feasting at that table.  For me, my heart now enjoys what to me tastes far more exquisitely delicious and needs no three-hour per week “re-fill” because I continually feast and am filled.