A Pandemic, a Quake, and a Quarantine ... Oh My

What a year we've had this past month ... amirite?

It's not like Paco needs to tell you what's been going on out there since he last blogged, but for the sake of future generation(s) or the cave dwellers who may be reading this post: The coronavirus, or COVID-19, has reared its ugly head into each of our lives in a matter of a few, short weeks. Originating in Wuhan, China, and spreading across the globe, it has changed things for all of us in countless ways.

Many businesses have had to close their doors and numerous public gatherings and events have been canceled in order to help contain the spread. A "stay home, stay safe" order for many of us means that the only exceptions for leaving home right now are for work (those who are "essential"), grocery shopping/takeout, or for medical needs. We've learned new terms like social distancing as we've each tried to lessen the spread and to weather the storm of this disease.

I remember watching the news the night when the first diagnosis was announced here in Utah. Then that number became a few more people, then a hundred, then 300, and currently it's (the last I saw) over 1,800 infected here in our lovely Deseret. The United States, at the moment, leads the world in the number of COVID-19 diagnoses, especially in larger cities like New York City.

JB and I have been fortunate enough to be able to continue to work throughout all of this (JB from home), but we are keenly aware that not all of our friends and neighbors have been so lucky. Many are worried about the economy, whether they're still going to have jobs when this thing is over, and how they're going to make ends meet until then.

If dealing with all this wasn't enough, we out of nowhere experienced a strong earthquake here in Utah (5.7 on the Richter scale) at approximately 7:09 a.m. the morning on March 18, with its epicenter in nearby Magna. Yours truly was asleep, but it sure gave me a rude awakening. A number of aftershocks followed it that day and have occurred in the weeks since then.

You can't spell pandemic without the word panic. As one who already dealt with anxiety and depression on a daily basis prior to these new challenges, I've had all sorts of thoughts and feelings about these events---not all of them optimistic nor, admittedly, rational. I've had some really hard days mentally, while other days have been ... just okay.

Then, just in time, came general conference this past weekend. Never did it come at a time when I needed it more.

Under the circumstances, the sessions were not held in the Conference Center but rather in a small auditorium at the Church Office Building. Only the First Presidency and each session's speakers and prayer givers were present. Even the Tabernacle Choir members were not there; prerecorded broadcasts of the choir's former performances were aired as the musical numbers instead.

Not once did I hear from any speaker any doom or gloom about our current situation, which was not in any way ignored. They, in fact, acknowledged it directly but also spoke of it as a temporary difficulty and a trial that will pass in time. I heard only faith and optimism in the messages that were given.

While church meetings have been temporarily suspended and temples have been closed until it is safe for them to resume and reopen, the home is now the de facto sacred refuge for us as Church members. Multiple speakers spoke on this concept. This is, in fact, what the prophet, the Apostles, and the other general authorities have been preparing us for over the past few years! The introduction of the Come, Follow Me curriculum and the emphasis on home-centered church have been getting us ready for the current situation this whole time. JB and I are doing our best at present to make our home such a refuge for ourselves not only on Sundays but throughout the week.

In the Lord's due time, His work will roll forth. I believe that there is so much still to be done, temple work foremost among those tasks, that the He will make a way for His temples to reopen before long. President Nelson, in fact, announced eight new temples to be built across the globe, including another one (our third!) in Davis County in Syracuse, Utah; one in mainland China in Shanghai; and another in Dubai, United Arab Emirates---the Church's first temple in the Mideast!

No, general conference didn't magically heal my anxiety about our current situation. Depression and anxiety will still always be there for me to deal with to one degree or another until I am cured of them beyond this mortal existence. But conference did help me immensely nonetheless. It recharged my spiritual batteries and has given me sorely needed direction and hope as we move forward through the next few weeks.

In the meantime, I hope to cheerfully do all things in my power to endure whatever may come in the near future. I look forward to joining my fellow Saints in fasting and prayer this Friday, Good Friday, along with all others from different faiths or no faith who wish to join us, per President Nelson's invitation, as we implore the Lord for help and relief for those suffering physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and financially.

Death, Taxes, and Other Sure Things

I recently gave a talk in church. The occasion, in case you hadn't guessed from my recent posts, was Dad's funeral. Here is what I spoke about:

There is an old saying that the only sureties in life are death and taxes. Well, Dad passed away April 15.

Dad had a great sense of humor. But in all seriousness, and in the few minutes I have today, I'd like to talk about some of the most important things he gave me (besides nearsightedness and the bald spot):

1) Time. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught: "In family relationships, love is really spelled T-I-M-E." Dad gave us his time, and he was thoroughly invested in our lives. Whether it was yelling from the sidelines as a coach or just an anxious parent, he was there at our basketball and soccer games and hardly ever missed one. He supported us in our hobbies and interests. We knew he cared, and his love language was the time he gave.

2) Work. Dad taught us to work. The plowboy who grew up on a farm in Smithfield and learned the value of an honest day's labor taught his children that you don't get something for nothing and you have to work for it. We were given an allowance, but we had to do our chores (weeding, mowing the lawn, etc.) to earn it. For years, we had a paper route, waking up at 5:00 or 5:30 a.m. even on school days and holidays, and he worked right alongside us, never taking a cent for himself. Those lessons carried me through part-time jobs in high school and college and into the present.

3) He taught me five simple words that stand out: excuse me, please, and thank you. I vividly remember him teaching me to use these words when I was growing up. Good manners were and are important. Knowing and using these words have helped me open countless doors in my daily interactions with people and my work experience.

Though Dad passed on a Saturday night, as a family we left the hospital when it was already Sunday morning. Easter Sunday! The timing of it all, we think, was not a coincidence. And the most important message in the world is still, as the Prophet Joseph Smith described, that Jesus Christ "died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it."

In a world rife with "fake news," rumors of wars, fads that come and go, the philosophies of men, and other false Christs the prophets saw would be abundant in our day, my knowledge of the Atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ is, in addition to death and taxes, the third sure thing in my life; and not only do I believe it, but I also know it through the Holy Spirit.

In the New Testament, Paul said that "this thing (the gospel) was not done in a corner" (Acts 26:26), and Peter spoke of the world's "cunningly devised fables" (2 Peter 1:16). Elder Jeffrey R. Holland recently spoke on "cunningly devised fables" in his Face 2 Face event:

"This is not a cunningly devised fable. This is God's truth. I want all of you here and afar to know that I know that this is the work and kingdom of God on earth. I am more certain of that than anything I know, anything I have seen, anything I have ever heard, and anything I hope to embrace in the future."

Today, I echo what he taught. When we talk of the concepts of resurrection and eternal families, not only are these good or neat ideas; I testify that they are true! And that knowledge carries me at this time and will carry me in future days.

In an all-wise, all-loving Heavenly Father's magnificent plan, there is so much more in store for us than wearing halos and playing harps in heaven! He has so much more in store for us, and it is beautiful and wonderful to think of. Death is a necessary part of that plan. Though we mourn today, we also rejoice.

Paul said: "For now we see through a glass, darkly" (1 Corinthians 13:12). I know that Dad now sees clearly. I take great hope in the knowledge that he is reunited with his parents, my Uncle Dexter, and other loved ones who have gone on before.

Dad was sick for a long time. Some of his thorns in the flesh he carried for all of his life on Earth. He is now free of them. I don't know why Dad had to suffer through those nor the illness that ultimately claimed his mortal life. (How can any of us know for sure why these things happen while "we see through a glass, darkly"?)

Neverthless, like Nephi, though "I do not know the meaning of all things," "I know that he (God) loveth his children." I know that (1) our Heavenly Father loved Dad and (2) Dad loved his children and his grandchildren.

I testify of the importance of the gift of the Holy Ghost. His presence has been so important to me over the past week. When we got the call that Dad had been taken to the hospital, I felt urgency to get there, and yet I also felt peace. I feel at peace today. The Spirit, also known as the Comforter, has comforted when I have been sad, and He has given me also joy in the knowledge of these things, of which I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Timing

"Time travels in divers paces with divers persons."
 -William Shakespeare

It's been nearly a year now (and I feel like the time is right to finally mention) since one of the members of the bishopric of the Island of Misfit Toys approached me after our Sunday meetings had concluded and asked if I had a few minutes to meet with him. This got my Paco senses tingling, to borrow a phrase, and I immediately began wondering what would be coming my way.

He proceeded to issue me a new calling in the ward, which I expected. What I didn't expect was the calling itself; it was one for which I would need to pray about the selection of a couple of counselors and a secretary. This, in fact, was my first time dealing with these circumstances since I was called as deacons quorum president a long time ago and in a galaxy far, far away. So to speak.

At the same time this conversation took place, however, I was also dealing with some health challenges that were causing me a great deal of physical and mental distress. I do not need to go over those details again, but suffice me to say that, for the first time in my life, I could give only a qualified yes as an answer. Both physically and mentally, I was utterly drained and was hanging by the end of my rope, yet I I told him would accept the calling and desired with all of my heart to do a good job at it.

President J. Reuben Clark counseled: "In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, one takes the place to which one is duly called, which place one neither seeks nor declines."

I thought over the matter for several days, and some names came to mind. For the aforementioned reasons, though, it was an agonizing series of days that stretched into a week, and then two and three. This bishopric counselor regularly checked in with me over that time period, not pressuring me nor demanding an answer but following up with me with patience.

Ultimately, I reached a point at which the issues I faced my anxiety and its accompanying side effects outweighed the struggle of the physical problem both my doctor and a second opinion were unable to diagnose. I reached a point at which I could not sleep well nor could I eat much if anything, and when I awoke in the mornings, I was filled with dread.

While I was at a family function, this bishopric member called me up on my cell phone, and I went outside to talk with him. I knew that the time had come to make a decision.

"I don't think I can do it," I told him. Inside, I was in shambles. I had reached the end of my rope and fallen off of it, to boot. "I have never said no to a calling. But I just can't do this right now."

With all of the love of a shepherd for his flock, this wise man, I believe, responded perfectly. He assured me that I had no reason to worry nor to feel guilty about it, that he and the bishopric knew of my struggles and were praying for me by name, and he also responded with wisely chosen words that have stayed with me since: "You didn't turn anything down. The calling was always right. It just wasn't the right time."

Over the next several days, one of my doctors, in what I believe was a direct answer to prayer, sent me to the hospital for a test that diagnosed my problem, and within a few days, my physical symptoms abated as my anxiety dissipated. Life got back to "normal," or at least the sense of normal I had at the time. With immense gratitude, I thanked the Lord for guiding me out of the darkness.

In the coming weeks, I watched in sacrament meeting as another was sustained to the calling I had initially been given, and I raised my hand in support of him and the new presidency. And I meant it. Through it all, I actually retained the elders quorum instructor calling, which I have now held for nearly three years (first given to me when the ward was in its infancy). It has been a tremendous blessing and has given me an opportunity to serve. If the lesson is not lost on me, hopefully it has also given me empathy to understand better the burdens others carry.

My point in sharing this experience is twofold. First, I testify from personal experience that issues with anxiety and/or depression, which can reach a point where they feel out of our control, do get better. Secondly, my experience taught me that the time is not always right for some things, even though our desires are righteous or we give our full effort.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell taught: "Since the Lord wants a people 'tried in all things' (D&C 136:31), how specifically will we be tried? He tells us, I will try the faith and the patience of my people (see Mosiah 23:21). Since faith in the timing of the Lord may be tried, let us learn to say not only, 'Thy will be done,' but patiently also, 'Thy timing be done.'"

The issues for which timing plays a part are myriad, be they work opportunities, health challenges, any number of crises of faith, and even (dare I say it?) dating. Believe you me, those of us who inhabit the Island of Misfit Toys, which by rule consists of single adults age 31 and older, know the struggle as well as anybody.

Sometimes, the answer is even that the timing is right now and things should happen as speedily as possible. I believe this is the case when spiritual promptings are given; often, the urging is to do that very thing right away, or it will be too late.

D&C 111:11 reads: "I will order all things for your good, as fast as ye are able to receive them" (emphasis added).

I heard these words clearly in my mind one night years ago when a sister I home taught in the YSA ward approached me for a blessing. At the time, she was sought for confirmation and peace of mind as she moved ahead with a romantic relationship. I know those words did not come from me. In the weeks that followed, I was amazed at just how quickly things moved forward for her.

In summation, just because things haven't happened yet doesn't mean that the Lord doesn't have great blessings in store. His timing is known to Him only. But I believe a day will come when we will look back on our lives and we will see the pattern of things that unfolded and, in it, His infinite wisdom and His endless love.

Blank Space

Even though we keep track of time second by second, minute by minute, and so on, science tells us it's all relative.

Nevertheless, I love the concept of beginning a new year. I love the day when I start to fill out an empty calendar with events, birthdays, social gatherings, and so forth. I love the very concept of new beginnings.

The bishop said as much yesterday on the Island of Misfit Toys in his sermon to lead off the new year. For me, one of the key concepts in the gospel of Jesus Christ is that of new beginnings. We get that chance each week with the sacrament of the Lord's supper. We get new chances during the week as we earnestly pray for new strength and opportunities to become better through the Atonement. We get those moments throughout the day if we will look around and see them in the people we interact with, the places we go, and the choices we make. The tender mercies are abundant.

Through social media, you couldn't help observe over the last few weeks that many people have come to the conclusion that 2016 was a a no-good, horrible, very bad year. If you look for them, you'll find the reasons why the glass was half-empty. I am grateful for the many who have also shared, conversely, the reasons why the past year was one of great blessings, as well.

As for myself, I have tried to put my focus on the latter. I've mentioned some of the difficult circumstances I faced in 2016 here on Paco Nation, and I don't think I really need to bring them up again at this point. Let them stay in the past.

Some solid truths I know about where I was 366 days ago versus where I am now: I began 2016 breathing in and breathing out, with a roof over my head, food to eat, a warm bed to sleep in, work to fill my days, enjoyable hobbies to fill my nights and weekends, people who care for me, people to serve, and things to accomplish. Those very basic things, the bare necessities, are everything.

As I look out on the still-very-blank space that is the year 2017, I wonder: What will happen this year? Will it be better than 2016 was? Worse? Will I accomplish bigger and better things? Will I get stuck in a rut? Will trials come my way? Will I have to undergo another unexpected surgery, or will I get healthier this year? Will my unexpected change in employment open new doors for me? Will death strike others who are close to me or close to my friends? Will new lives, including new children (nieces and nephews), enter on the stage? Will the person I've prayed and hoped for make herself known? An even better question: Will I become the kind of person who attracts such a person? Will President Trump get us all sucked down to the tenth level of hell? Or we will he (or at least the people in his cabinet) surprise us all and be better than everyone fears? Is whatever happens on Temple Square or in my house far more important than what takes place in the White House? Can I focus on what I can control rather than the many things out of my control that, in the past, have caused me grief?

My answer to all of the above is yes. It will be what we make of it. I'm grateful to have each of you along for the journey.

OCD and Indexing

How does obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) wreak havoc in my life? Let me count the ways.

Then, let me count them again. And again. And again . . . and once again.

Now that that's been taken care of, for now anyway, I've alluded to my struggle with OCD here on Paco Nation a few times before now but have never really devoted a full post to it until tonight. At this point, I really don't have anything to lose. So, here goes.

OCD is defined as "an anxiety disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, sensations (obsessions), or behaviors that make them feel driven to do something (compulsions)." Now, if I ever have to give a church talk on the subject, I'll be prepared with that definition.

I stress the unwanted portion of that definition, mind you. OCD affects different people in different ways. Some people, like Jack Nicholson's character in As Good as It Gets, have physical rituals to get them through the day. Others obsess about hand washing and germs. Still, others deal with unwanted thought patterns that occur in repeated cycles.

I am among the third group, I think. There may be more groups/behaviors, but I don't really feel like researching that right now.

OCD first reared its ugly head when I was 13 years old. I remember the first time I encountered it very clearly. It was my first moment feeling truly panicked in life, and I didn't understand why I was feeling panicked about this particular moment. Understanding would not come for years, unfortunately.

Other anxiety-filled episodes recurred over the years, and I realized my OCD wasn't ever going to go away. In particular, it really made some jobs and life as a missionary extremely difficult for me at times. Bless their hearts, my bewildered companions wondered what I was going through almost as much as I did at certain moments, if they weren't making fun of me during those times of indecision. I do not know that I would have reacted any differently from them had I not gone through it all myself.

Recently, members of my ward took part in the Church's worldwide indexing event in the form of a "Family History Hangout," during which a few of us, myself included, learned to index names and information from census files and other forms of data for the first time.

In principle, this was a great idea. But OCD had another thing in store for me. It came out rather quickly on this night, making my brain figuratively explode rather early into the evening as it tried to figure things out when things didn't make a lick of sense.

I will have to give indexing a try again some other time. I see the benefit in it now. At least I didn't run from the room screaming.

It's still an ongoing battle for me, this OCD thing. Nevertheless, where there is knowledge, there is additional hope. Though I didn't understand much about OCD at the onset of my teenage years, I have learned so much about it over time and how I can deal with it in healthy ways. If I look at it from a glass-is-half-full perspective, I see how OCD actually helps me in such things as doing my editing/proofreading work and also in being aware of others' needs.

Now that I've shared all of that, date me all the girls.

Also, I need to now proofread this post a couple of dozen times.