Ryan gave such a great talk in church today. I loved all the material he had found on his topic and all the great stories he had found that I wanted to put it in our Journal so we could read it again, and someday our girls will also read it. He ran out of time so he was only able to share a little of his talk, but it was still a wonderful talk!
From Sister Carol B Thomas “Sacrifice, and Eternal Investment”
I think one of the most heart-wrenching stories in the Old Testament is that of Abraham, asked by the Lord to offer his young son Isaac as a sacrifice. Sarah must have been at least 100 years old when Isaac was taken to the mountain. Out of kindness to her, I think Abraham might not have told her what he intended to do, and that meant he had to bear this great test of faith alone.
President Lorenzo Snow once said, “No mortal man could have done what Abraham did … except he were inspired and had a divinity within him to receive that inspiration” (The Teachings of Lorenzo Snow, ed. Clyde J. Williams [1984], 116).
Beginning with Adam, all Old Testament prophets have kept the law of sacrifice. Sacrifice is integral to the celestial law, pointing us to the most glorious sacrifice of all: our Savior Jesus Christ.
President Gordon B. Hinckley defined sacrifice so beautifully when he said: “Without sacrifice there is no true worship of God. … ‘The Father gave his Son, and the Son gave his life,’ and we do not worship unless we give—give of our substance, … our time, … strength, … talent, … faith, … [and] testimonies” (Teachings of Gordon B. Hinckley [1997], 565).
Brothers and sisters, the law of sacrifice is one of the things that sets us apart from the rest of the world. We are a covenant people, blessed with opportunities to worship and to give; but are we fully converted to the principle of sacrifice? I’m reminded of the wealthy young man, taught by the Savior, who asked, “What do I still lack in my life?” (see Matt. 19:20). Jesus said to him, “If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell [all] that thou hast … and come and follow me” (Matt. 19:21).
Let’s discuss three ways that sacrifice can help us follow the Savior: teaching our families, giving to the poor and needy, and sharing ourselves in missionary work.
First, how can we teach our families to sacrifice?
As we teach our families to sacrifice, we should also teach them to deny themselves. The story is told of the Civil War general Robert E. Lee, who, when asked by a woman for advice in raising her child, said, “Teach [your child] to deny himself” (see Joseph Packard, Recollections of a Long Life [1902], 158).
We must avoid saturating our children with material things. We may deprive a child of enjoyment when we give him too much. If we never allow him to want something, he will never enjoy the pleasure of receiving it.
Are we encouraging our children to sacrifice by giving their time and resources, such as helping a lonely neighbor or befriending someone who needs it? As they concentrate on the needs of others, their own needs become less important. True joy comes from sacrificing for others.
Second, we can give more generously to the poor and needy. A young man in Colombia, raised by his grandmother, owned several shoe repair shops and served as the custodian in his ward. When he was called on a mission, he had saved not only enough money to pay for his own mission but also contributed extra funds to support another missionary.
What about sharing our food, clothing, and furniture? The Lord commands that we not covet our own property (see D&C 19:26). In many places we are blessed to have Deseret Industries. We can teach our children to go through their closets regularly and share their clothing while it is still in style, allowing others to dress fashionably too.
Many rewards come from sharing our material possessions. King Benjamin reminds us of this when he says, “For the sake of retaining a remission of your sins from day to day, that ye may walk guiltless before God … impart of your substance to the poor, … such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief” (Mosiah 4:26). We can all be searching for the many opportunities in our lives to give—to share.
The third area of sacrifice is missionary work.
Recently President Hinckley visited a stake conference in an affluent area where only four older couples were serving missions. Hoping to inspire more members to serve, he promised them that their children and grandchildren would not even miss them while they’re gone. With the invention of e-mail, friendly letters can be sent and received by senior missionaries just about any day.
Your years of experience will bless others, and you’ll discover how wonderful people really are. The missions of the world need you! Pray for that spirit of adventure and a desire to serve a mission. You’ll enjoy more excitement than motor-home travel or rocking chairs.
Many of you are doing remarkable things. Megan, a young woman, prayed many months for two friends who were not members of the Church, arranging for one friend to sign up for seminary and inviting the other to be taught by the missionaries. Recently these two young women were baptized. The Church needs you. President Hinckley cannot walk down the halls of your school and teach your friends, but you can, and the Lord is counting on you. We’re so proud of the courage you have as you share your love for the gospel with your friends.
Sacrifice is an amazing principle. As we willingly give our time and talents and all that we possess, it becomes one of our truest forms of worship. It can develop within us a profound love for each other and our Savior, Jesus Christ. Through sacrifice our hearts can be changed; we live closer to the Spirit and have less of an appetite for things of the world.
President Hinckley taught a grand truth when he said: “It is not a sacrifice to live the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is never a sacrifice when you get back more than you give. It is an investment, … a greater investment than any. … Its dividends are eternal and everlasting” (Teachings of Gordon B. Hinckley, 567–68).
I'll never forget Easter 1946. I was 14, my little sister Ocy was 12, and my older sister Darlene 16. We lived at home with our mother, and the four of us knew what it was to do without many things. My dad had died five years before, leaving Mom with seven school kids to raise and no money.
By 1946 my older sisters were married and my brothers had left home. A month before Easter the pastor of our church announced that a special Easter offering would be taken to help a poor family. He asked everyone to save and give sacrificially. When we got home, we talked about what we could do. We decide to buy 50 pounds of potatoes and live on them for a month. This would allow us to save $20 of our grocery money for the offering. When we thought that if we kept our electric lights turned out as much as possible and didn't listen to the radio we'd save money on that month's electric bill. Darlene got as many house and yard cleaning jobs as possible, and both of us babysat for everyone we could. For 15 cents we could buy enough cotton loops to make three potholders to sell for $1. We made $20 on potholders.
That month was one of the best of our lives. Every day we counted the money to see how much we had saved. At night we'd sit in the dark and talk about how the poor family was going to enjoy having the money the church would give them. We had about 80 people in church, so we figured that whatever amount of money we had to give, the offering would surely be 20 times that much. After all, every Sunday the pastor had reminded everyone to save for the sacrificial offering.
The day before Easter Ocy and I walked to the grocery store and got the manager to give us three crisp $20 bills and one $10 bill for all our change. We ran all the way home to show Mom and Darlene. We had never had so much money before. That night we were so excited we could hardly sleep. We didn't care that we wouldn't have new clothes for Easter; we had $70 for the sacrificial offering. We could hardly wait to get to church!
On Sunday morning, rain was pouring. We didn't own an umbrella, and the church was a mile from our home, but it did not matter how wet we got. Darlene had cardboard in her shoes to fill the holes. The cardboard came apart and her feet got wet. But we sat in church proudly. I heard some teenagers talking about the Smith girls having on their old dresses. I looked at them in their new clothes and I felt rich.
When the sacrificial offering was taken, we were sitting on the second row from the front. Mom put in the $10 bill, and each of us kids put in $20. As we walked home after church we sang all the way. At lunch Mom had a surprise for us. She had bought a dozen eggs and we had boiled Ester eggs with our fried potatoes! Late that afternoon the minister drove up in his car. Mom went to door, talked with him for a moment, and then came back with an envelope in her hand. We asked what it was, but she didn't say a word. She opened the envelope. We asked what it was, but she didn't say a word. She opened the envelope, and out fell a bunch of money. There were three crisp $20 bills, one $10 and seventeen $1 bills. Mom put the money back in the envelope. We didn't talk, just sat and stared at the floor. We had gone from feeling like millionaires to feeling like poor white trash. We kids had such a happy life that we felt sorry for anyone who didn't have our Mom and Dad for parents and a house full of brothers and sisters and other kids visiting constantly. We thought it was fun to share silverware and see whether we got the spoon or the fork that night. We had two knifes that we passed around to whoever needed them. I knew we didn't have a lot of things that other people had, but I'd never thought we were poor. I didn't like being poor. I looked at my dress and worn-out shoes and felt so ashamed - - I didn't even want to go back to church. Everyone there probably already knew we were poor! I thought about school. I was in the ninth grade and at the top of my class of over 100 students. I wondered if the kids at school knew that we were poor. I decided that I could quit school since I had finished the eighth grade. That was all the law required at that time. We sat in silence for a long time. Then it got dark, and we went to bed. All that week we girls went to school and came home, and no one talked much.
Finally on Saturday, Mom asked us what we wanted to do with the money. What did poor people do with money? We didn't know. We'd never known we were poor. We didn't want to go to church on Sunday, but Mom said we had to. Although it was a sunny day, we didn't talk on the way. Mom started to sing, but no one joined in and she only sang one verse. At church we had a missionary speaker. He talked about how churches in Africa made buildings out of sun dried bricks, but they needed money to buy roofs. He said $100 would put a roof on a church. The minister said, "Can't we all sacrifice to help these poor people?" We looked at each other and smiled for the first time in a week. Mom reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope. She passed it to Darlene. Darlene gave it to me, and I handed it to Ocy. Ocy put it in the offering. When the offering was counted, the minister announced that it was a little over $100. The missionary was excited. He hadn't expected such a large offering from our small church. He said, "You must have some rich people in this church." Suddenly it struck us! We had given $87 of that "little over $100." We were the rich family in the church! Hadn't the missionary said so? From that day on I've never been poor again.
There was once a bridge which spanned a large river. During most of the day the bridge sat with its length running up and down the river parallel with the banks, allowing ships to pass thru freely on both sides of the bridge. But at certain times each day, a train would come along and the bridge would be turned sideways across the river, allowing the train to cross.
A switchman sat in a small shack on one side of the river where he operated the controls to turn the bridge and lock it into place for the trains to cross. One evening the switchman was waiting for the last train of the day to come, when thru the dimming twilight he caught sight of the train lights.
He stepped to the controls and when the train was within a prescribed distance, he turned the bridge into position. Although to his astonishment, he found the locking control was not working. If the bridge was not locked in position it would wobble back and forth at the ends and cause the train to jump the track and go crashing into the river. And this would be a passenger train with many people aboard.
He left the bridge turned across the river, and hurried across the bridge to the other side of the river where there was a control lever which he could operate manually to lock the bridge in place. He would have to hold the lever back firmly as the train crossed.
He could hear the rumble of the train, and he took hold of the lever and leaned backward to apply his weight to it, locking the bridge. He kept applying the pressure to keep the mechanism locked. Many lives depended on this man's strength. Then, from the direction of his control shack across the bridge, he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. "Daddy, where are you?" His four-year-old son was crossing the bridge to look for him.
His first impulse was to cry out to the child, " Run! Run!" But the train was too close; the tiny legs would never make it across the bridge in time. In the same instant, he almost left the lever to run and snatch up his son and carry him to safety. But he realized that he could not get back to the lever in time for the train to pass safely. Either the people on the train or his little son would have to die. It took a moment to make his decision.
The train sped safely and swiftly on its way. No one on board was even aware of the tiny broken body thrown mercilessly into the river by the onrushing train. Nor were they aware of the pitiful figure of the sobbing man, still clinging tightly to the locking lever long after the train had passed. Neither did they see him walking home more slowly than he had ever walked before, to tell his wife how they had lost their son.
As we comprehend what this experience must have meant to this man and how it affected him, we begin to realize what our Father in Heaven must have had to endure when He sacrificed His Son (the most innocent man ever) - to bridge the gap between us and eternal life. Can there be any wonder that He caused the earth to tremble and the skies to darken when His Son was crucified? And how it must affect Him when we speed along thru life with little thought or appreciation for their sacrifice.
You will remember what the Savior said to the rich young man who wanted to know what to do to gain eternal life: “Go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me.”
Peter, hearing this, said: “Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have therefore?”
This is the glorious promise: “Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.” (Matt. 19:21, 27, 29.)
Ther is a story of a member of the church in Argentina. His name is Oscar Novaco, and his story of heroism occurred some years before he joined the Church. He was on a military assignment with thirty-three other men in the cold, stormy mountains of Argentina when a terrible storm came up which trapped them for twelve days. They had little food. They ate snow and huddled together for warmth. They could not keep their tents up for protection.
Brother Novaco said: “I think I kept my mind straight because I talked to the Lord. Though I wasn’t a member of the Church at that time, I did know that he lived. I was close to him. It got so I didn’t feel any pain.”
After twelve days they were rescued. Twenty-seven soldiers had died, but the seven survivors became national heroes. Valuable gold medals were presented to them by the government. All the survivors were in serious condition and were hospitalized. Brother Novaco remained in the hospital for nearly two years and underwent sixteen operations to save his hands and feet and restore some use to them.
In his early thirties, and somewhat disabled, he operated a small ice-cream store. His most valuable possession was the gold medal, and several times he considered selling it to help the economy of his family, but he managed to keep it.
It was in the ice-cream store that the missionaries called on him. He accepted them as friends and listened to their teachings. He believed what they said, and when they taught him about the Word of Wisdom, he stopped selling beer and wine in his store and made the necessary changes in his own life.
Eventually his family members were baptized, and Oscar Novaco later became president of the Mendoza Argentina Stake. In that position he was in attendance at the area conference in Buenos Aires when President Spencer W. Kimball announced that a temple would be built in South America.
“The thought immediately came to my mind,” he said, “that I should give the gold medal for the building of the temple.”
On 3 April 1975 he came with his wife, two daughters, and a grandchild to Salt Lake City for general conference and presented his most valuable material possession—the gold medal—to President Kimball. As he recalled his experience on the cold mountain and handed the medal to the prophet, he said:
“The Lord has blessed me so much, and this makes me feel so happy. Just think of the blessings the temple will bring to our people.” (Church News, 7 June 1975, p. 10.)
You have probably all seen the famous painting The Praying Hands, by Albrecht Dürer. It was inspired by the experience of the artist and a friend who were struggling together for fame and fortune. In a season of extreme poverty, and in order to provide for their necessities, Dürer’s artist friend turned to other work to make a living for them both until they could get on their feet. But the months and years passed, and the grueling toil scarred the hands of the laborer and he lost his craftsman’s touch. Uncomplainingly, he carried on until Dürer became famous and at last was able to provide for both of them all the things they needed for survival.
Dürer was always conscious that he owed a debt of gratitude to his friend who had sacrificed his own career. When he saw the gnarled and toilworn hands clasped in prayer, he decided to paint a picture so that the world could see the unheralded saintliness of his friend and provider. Helen Steiner Rice tells that story in poetry, and in another poem she describes the blessings of that sacrifice.
The Praying Hands
The “Praying Hands” are much, much more than just a work of art;
They are the soul’s creation of a deeply thankful heart—
They are a priceless Masterpiece that love alone could paint,
And they reveal the selflessness of an unheralded saint.
These hands, so scarred and toilworn, tell the story of a man
Who sacrificed his talent in accordance with God’s plan—
For in God’s plan are many things man cannot understand,
But we must trust God’s judgment and be guided by His Hand.
Sometimes He asks us to give up our dreams of happiness,
Sometimes we must forego our hopes of fortune and success.
Not all of us can triumph or rise to heights of fame,
And many times what should be ours, goes to another name—
But he who makes a sacrifice, so another may succeed,
Is indeed a true disciple of our blessed Savior’s creed—
For when we give ourselves away in sacrifice and love,
We are laying up rich treasures in God’s kingdom up above—
And hidden in gnarled, toilworn hands is the truest art of living
Achieved alone by those who’ve learned the victory of giving;
For any sacrifice on earth made in the dear Lord’s name,
Assures the giver of a place in Heaven’s Hall of Fame—
And who can say with certainty where the greatest talent lies,
Or who will be the greatest in our Heavenly Father’s eyes!
—Helen Steiner Rice
Joseph Smith taught the law of sacrifice in these words: “For a man to lay down his all, his character and reputation, his honor, and applause, his good name among men, his houses, his lands, his brothers and sisters, his wife and children, and even his own life also—counting all things but filth and dross for the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus Christ—requires more than mere belief or supposition that he is doing the will of God; but actual knowledge, realizing that, when these sufferings are ended, he will enter into eternal rest, and be a partaker of the glory of God. …
“A religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary [to lead] unto life and salvation; for, from the first existence of man, the faith necessary unto the enjoyment of life and salvation never could be obtained without the sacrifice of all earthly things. It was through this sacrifice, and this only, that God has ordained that men should enjoy eternal life; and it is through the medium of the sacrifice of all earthly things that men do actually know that they are doing the things that are well pleasing in the sight of God. …
“It is vain for persons to fancy to themselves that they are heirs with those, or can be heirs with them, who have offered their all in sacrifice, and by this means obtain faith in God and favor with him so as to obtain eternal life, unless they, in like manner, offer unto him the same sacrifice, and through that offering obtain the knowledge that they are accepted of him.” (In Lectures on Faith, comp. N. B. Lundwall, Salt Lake City: N. B. Lundwall, n.d., p. 58.)
Let us return to my original questions: “How long has it been since you made a righteous sacrifice? How often do you think of Christ’s sacrifice for you?” Ponder the words of this hymn in your heart and live accordingly:
Behold the great Redeemer die,
A broken law to satisfy.
He dies a sacrifice for sin;
That man may live and glory win.
While guilty men his pains deride,
They pierce his hands and feet and side;
And with insulting scoffs and scorns,
They crown his head with platted thorns.
Although in agony he hung,
No murmuring word escaped his tongue.
His high commission to fulfill,
He magnified his Father’s will.
“Father, from me remove this cup.
Yet, if thou wilt, I’ll drink it up;
I’ve done the work thou gavest me;
Receive my spirit unto thee.”
He died, and at the awful sight
The sun in shame withdrew its light!
Earth trembled, and all nature sighed,
In dread response, “A God has died!”
He lives—he lives, we humbly now
Around these sacred symbols bow,
And seek, as Saints of latter-days,
To do his will and live his praise.
Ryan is trying to give her a crawling lesson so she can figure out how to go forwards. I am not in a big hurry for her to figure it out.... (then I will have to start freaking out about he stairs)
She is great at doing her yoga stretch (downward dog)
Such a cute little girl! She is growing up way to fast!!!!!
This baby loves to eat. I was feeding her yogurt the other morning and I was not going fast enough so when I turned my back she grabbed it and tried to drink it....
