Carpe Diem

I’ve been thinking about that phrase which I have always heard translated as ‘seize the day’, but which more correctly means ‘trusting as little as possible in the future’, and another similar Latin phrase, ‘momento mori’, which means ‘remember that you are mortal’.  I have always had a tendency to wish my life away; “if I can just make it through this next week”, or “as soon as this issue is resolved”, etc.. I hope that I learn to appreciate and embrace every moment before it is too late.  There are so many good experiences, so many beautiful sights, so many wonderful people, and so many glorious feelings happening in the now.  If I’m always looking to tomorrow, or next week, I miss them entirely.  It is a blessing to know how to live in the ‘now’.  I want to learn how to do that and this mission seems to be nudging me in that direction.

Last week I wrote about Tui Jameson-Day who lost her husband in a motorcycle accident.  I finally got a picture of her so that people back home could visualize who I was talking about.  She is as beautiful on the outside as she is inside.

Wednesday night we were invited to dinner at Gordon and Colleen Ryan’s home in Kaiapoi.  Gordon is an American, and his wife is a Kiwi. 

Their home was lovely, the food was out of this world, and the conversation was fascinating.  Gordon and Colleen are both converts to the church.  Gordon’s conversion story is a common one, he was introduced to the church when some of his high school friends invited him to play on the church softball team.  He joined the church in Texas, spent some time in the marines, and then served a mission in Norway.  He got married, had three kids, was later divorced, and lived in many countries and different states in the U.S. 

Colleen’s conversion story was anything but normal.  She was raised in an entirely non-religious family.  She was married with three daughters and was the matriarch of a home where God was never discussed, prayers were never offered, and no one attended church.  She had never even thought about what happens to a person after he dies, until her best friend lost her mother.  Her friend’s children were asking questions, and Colleen was called on to give them answers.  When the kids asked where their grandmother was, Colleen said, “Well, I suppose she’s in heaven.”  She tried to recall anything she might have read or heard that she could offer as comfort to these grieving children.  This experience made her wonder for the first time and she began a quest for knowledge. For the first time in her life, she knelt down and prayed.  While on her knees, she felt something very real, and when she got up from that prayer, she knew that she had a Father in Heaven and that He loved her.  She wanted to know more.  She remembered that she and her friends, as young girls, had found it funny to ‘dial a prayer’ and giggle at the answers they received.  So, she looked in the phone book, and sure enough, there was a number for ‘dial a prayer’.  She rang the number and heard a voice quoting something from ‘Corinthians'.  The verse was applicable to what she wondered about, but she had no idea what ‘Corinthians’ was.  She wondered if it might be in the Bible.  She went to a book store and asked to purchased a Bible.

She took that Bible to a coffee shop next door and, keeping the book on her lap under the table so that no one could see it, she started looking for Corinthians.  A man walked in and asked if he could join her.  She reluctantly said, “Yes.”  He said to her, “I can help you find what you’re looking for.  I’m a Christian.”  She was so surprised because she had kept the Bible hidden.  She told him what she was looking for, he recognized the verse, and turned directly to Corinthians.  He took her to a nearby Anglican Church and introduced her to the vicar.  She attended some services there, but could make no sense of it. She was seeking more of what she felt when she prayed.

One of Colleen’s sisters was living in America and had joined the Mormon Church.  Colleen had always thought that her sister was crazy and that the Mormon Church was way too strange, but she wrote her sister and asked her a few questions.  Her sister sent her a very long letter explaining many of the beliefs that she had embraced.  They were just too weird.  A few days later, she found that her sister had contacted the missionaries and they would be coming to Colleen’s door.  Her husband told her that she was not to let the Mormons into their house.  She prayed that she would have the strength to tell them to leave.  When they arrived on her doorstep, she said she couldn’t even open her mouth.  They came in, they taught her, and she felt as though she was on fire from head to toe.  The Spirit testified in a way that was undeniable and there was no turning back.  Much to her husband’s dismay, she was baptized within days.  Her husband told her that she could never discuss her faith in her home, she could never share her beliefs with her daughters, and her life became extremely difficult.  She lost all of her friends, she nearly got divorced, and as the years went on things only got worse.  Her husband’s heart never softened before he was killed in a boating accident.

She later married Gordon and they have split the last twenty plus years between the US and New Zealand.

Gordon was a city planner and has written several books.  If you look on Amazon you can see a list of his books—they are LDS fiction.  He’s quite the story-teller.

We knew that many of the houses around the Ryan’s home were going to be torn down due to extensive damage from the earthquake.  When we drove down their street, it looked like a beautiful neighborhood.  We told Gordon that it looked like everything was undamaged.

Gordon and Colleen Ryan’s home in Kaiapoi.

Looking across the street from Ryan’s home.

  He took us down the street and showed us…

From the middle of the road to a grove of trees 600 meters away, the earth opened up and added an additional 6 meters.  In the process, these homes were split in two.

Thursday nights are getting to be all-night marathons.  It seems there are always kids who want to stay after institute and talk.  We pray for inspiration.  We want to help these kids that we love so much.  This week we were there till after midnight, and we had to be back to the institute building by 6:30 the next morning for online seminary weekly meeting, which is held on the internet and over the phone.  Something was wrong with ‘meeting place’ and we were unable to connect.  We hope Salt Lake gets all the problems ironed out by next week.  We’ll try again.

I am finding this online seminary class very rewarding.  It takes a lot of time to manage it, but we had lots of good feed back this week and I love the kids in this class already.   They want to learn.  They want to make right choices.  They want to gain a testimony.  We feel blessed to be a small part of their lives.  

Saturday was the Christchurch Stake Picnic.  It was held at ‘The Groynes’, a lovely wooded spot for picnics and group parties.   There were volleyball games, sack races, rugby matches, an inflatable castle, face painting and a BBQ.  Every New Zealand cookout has the same food;  sausages, nothing like our hotdogs except the shape, served on a very thin slice of buttered bread, with ketchup and grilled onions.  This time they had some hamburger patties and some punch to drink as well.

The young man in the plaid shirt is Trevor Anderson, our YSA stake rep.

These guys play to win.  The cheating starts here and leads to…

Lolly scramble for the kids.  The kids, so beautiful….

Yesterday, Sunday was New Zealand Day or Waitangi Day—the equivalent of our 4th of July, but we saw very few signs of any celebration.  In 1840 a treaty was signed at Waitangi between some of the Maori people and the British.  It seems the British misrepresented a few things, the Maori people gave up many rights and sold their lands for practically nothing—all the while not even understanding the concept of ownership.  Rather than provide a time to feel unity and a sense of national pride, it seems that this day only serves to recall and dredge up hostilities.

It was also 36 or 37 degrees—very, very hot—and without air conditioners, of course everyone would be out of sorts.

At the picnic, John took a picture of the Johnstons.  He has been the President of the Ashburton Branch, one of our favorite branches to visit.  He told us about his branch members and expressed his joy that there were no problems there.  Everyone gets along so well, and when they sing…it makes you weep.

President and Sister Johnston on Saturday afternoon.  In church on Sunday, they announced that he had died in the night—a massive heart attack.  His Branch and all of us will sorely miss this wonderful man.  I am going to live in the now.  I am going to embrace the moment. 

President and Sister Johnston and members of the Ashburton Branch.  Saturday, February 5, 2011.