Troyanda

One dew-covered morning in the summer, a small bud was found at the very bottom of the pink rose bush in the corner of the garden.  The proud roses strained their stems to look at the glistening new addition to their happy bush.  A name for this beautiful bud was the first topic of discussion.

“She’s going to be gorgeous,” Rosa said, “I can tell.  So we should name her after me.”

Rhosyn laughed.  “That’s been your vote for for every bud that has bloomed this summer.  I say we should name her Blossom. I’ve always loved that name.”

“Troyanda,” a quiet voice said.  It was Kufufuka, the oldest and wisest of the roses on the bush.  She was the one the others turned to when they needed advice, and she had always overseen the naming of the buds.  As you can guess, the name stuck.  No other suggestions fit quite so well.

Troyanda grew quickly.  As the days went swiftly by, the little bud swelled with the evidence of silky pink petals ready to emerge.  She drew constantly from the warmth and nourishment of the sun.  She listened to music of the birds and the chatter of the squirrels.  She made friends with the beetles and worms and sang into the wind in the warmth of the afternoon.  And one by one, she watched as her friends on the bush were plucked and carried away.  She had been taught well, and she knew that the reason for the roses was to be taken and loved by those who saw them.  She wanted more than anything to be like her friends and live up to her purpose in the garden.

But there at the bottom, no one saw her.  She had narrowly escaped being crushed by his boot as the gardener commented on Rosa’s beauty.  Troyanda was beautiful, too, but no one took the time to look for her.  She could only look on sadly as her friends left her to live their dreams.

As Troyanda’s petals opened and spread, the last of her companions departed.  She was alone.  No one visited the rosebush anymore.  Her petals wilted and started to fall as the leaves of the bush began to change color.  One morning, she awoke to find a crisp frost covering her like a blanket.  The sun melted it quickly, but it left her petals blackened, broken, and full of holes.

During this time, Troyanda found that she really wasn’t alone.  She was the trusted guardian of a squirrel’s precious nuts.  She sheltered the home of a family of pillbugs, and every night, the beetles, worms, and sparrows gathered to hear her sing in a voice as gentle as her ways.  All the creatures in the garden loved her, but Troyanda wasn’t happy.  She often thought about the summer days when she was beautiful, and how wonderfully different her life could have been.

Soon leaves began to fall, leaving all the trees and bushes in the garden just bare skeletons.  The gardener came again.  Troyanda envied the leaves that were fortunate enough to be taken away.  For two days she watched with mournful thought of the coming winter.  Such thoughts occupied her mind in the afternoon of the second day.  She was imagining snow, cold, and death when six words hurt her like no image could.

“Well, hello there, you ugly thing,” the gardener said.  “You’re as brown as the dirt.  It’s no wonder I didn’t see you before.”

He carelessly snapped Troyanda’s stem and lifted her up to the mouth of his black garbage bag.

Troyanda looked at the sun for the last time, the words that had shattered all her dreams ringing through her mind.  She tried hard not to cry as she dropped into the darkness forever.

Out of Troyanda’s sight and even further from her thoughts, a little family of pillbugs had crawled out of a small hole in the soil.  A squirrel joined three sparrows on a bare gray branch above, and a large number of beetles and worms could be seen scattered about the garden.  They looked on in silent indignation.

That evening, the creatures gathered as usual, but not to hear Troyanda’s songs.  For a while, a thoughtful stillness reigned over the group.  No one knew what to say, for none wished to voice what they all were thinking.  An emotional beetle finally spoke up.

“I remember...” she began, and the night became a reminiscent journey down memory lane.  They spoke of the kindness of their faithful friend.  They cried over her smile that shone through the pain in her heart.  They admired her courage and selflessness, and each vowed that they would never forget the humble flower that had possessed nothing except a caring heart, and had forgotten her dreams to give the only thing she had left.

A somber ceremony was held that night as the moon rose between the mountains.  To this day, if you come to the rosebush under the walnut tree in the back corner of the garden,  take a magnifying glass.  You will see the word “Troyanda” written into the lowest branch, carefully cleaned and sheltered by those who have not forgotten the great gift that had been given all those years ago.


Remember-- you may not feel important. It might be that you feel inadequate. You might think that because you aren't what everyone thinks you should be, you aren't good. Just know that if you work to do and be the best you can, you will touch lives in a way you otherwise couldn't have. You have your own unique purpose, and you don't have to be like everyone else. You are special; live up to your individuality. It is who you are.

Parable of the Sonflower

The Parable of the Sonflower

by Patty Morford

  Once there was a small flower. She was fragile and afraid of everything, but her greatest fear was that she wouldn’t be able to do everything all the other flowers expected of her. In the back of her mind, she worried that she had been planted in the wrong garden.  She never felt that she blended well with the colors of the other flowers.  From her place at the edge of the patch, a well secluded corner, she could see the other garden beds, and envied the situation of similar little flowers.  She always felt unfortunate. She disparaged over the stormy days, and never appreciated or even noticed when it was sunny. To her, existence was a burden.

  Then one day, a group of other flowers were planted near her. She watched them, noticing how comfortable they seemed with themselves. They invited her to join their group.  Hesitantly, the small flower tried to connect and be more like these wonderful flowers.  As she became familiar with them, she realized that they were normal flowers, like her, with only one difference: they were confident, always working to improve themselves.

  

  The small flower participated in the things her new group of friends did, and, though at first she was afraid to open up, she soon found herself blossoming into a beautiful bloom, unique and confident.  She no longer hid in her corner, but lit it up with her individuality.  Her new friends helped her learn kindness, wisdom, self-confidence through God-confidence, forgiveness, and charity.  Through building her relationships with her fellow flowers, she came to know and love the One who put her where she was. She found that she was not planted in that garden to blend in and hide, but to stand out and shine as an example to those around her.  And just like she grew from the warmth and strength of the sun in the sky, she built herself inside through the strength and love of the Son, her Savior.  

  

  She learned that when she stays shallow and allows others to block the sun from her, she does not grow, and only breaks down. But when she plants her roots deep in the good soil and only listens to those who will build her up and help her find the sunlight, she blooms into a flower of a color and vibrancy that she never could have obtained on her own.  She learned to depend on the Gardener, and trust that He had planted her where she needed to be, where she could become her best self; a flower of the Son.

 Though small we may be,

And not far can we see,

We know there is Someone who cares.

He has a great Plan

For the welfare of Man,

He hears us in our heart-felt prayers.

We can turn to Him

When our future seems dim;

He'll lead us back into the light.

With help of great friends,

We'll endure to the end;

Together we'll all win the fight.

The End

Purpose

        This is an article I wrote for Shaking Brains, a wonderful company that I love being a team member with!  I hope you like it and you can view it on their website (which I highly recommend; they have some great stuff on there) if you click here.  It will be posted on that website on Monday, December 7, 2015.  (If you're reading this after that date, it's already there.)  Enjoy!

Hey, guys! I’m so happy to be writing for you!  My name is Patty Morford.

I know, right? You’re probably thinking, “‘Patty’? Since when is that a name?”  Trust me, I’ve been called Hamburger or Peppermint (even Cow) countless times.  And you know what? For about a year when I was eight and insecure, I tried to change my name.  I was tired of being teased about my weird name.  I wanted to be called Patricia, instead (that’s my full first name).  That one was still a little odd, and I would have tried my middle name (Evelyn is pretty epic, right?), but by that time I had learned something.

I learned that it didn’t really matter what my name was.  It didn’t matter what anyone thought about my name either.  There was a reason for my name, and people’s words couldn’t change its purpose.  It meant something to me, and I wasn’t about to let myself feel embarrassed about someone’s opinion.

To change the subject slightly: my grandmother is a wonderful person.  She grew up in the home of two former navy personnel who were professionally employed in the medical field.  She was the oldest of three children, the youngest being 12 years younger.  She was so much older than her siblings, and I can’t say that her growing-up years were the kind you would ask for.  She married a military man, this time from the air force.  My grandma’s life has had many difficulties, which definitely built her character.  She could have been negatively affected by her experiences, but she chose to use them to make her better.  She is the strongest, kindest person I know, and I greatly admire and look up to her.  Her name is Patty.

That’s why I’m proud of my name.  My parents named me after the woman who quickly became my hero, and that has such a meaning to me.  I would not wish to bear any other title.  This name pushes me to live up to the honor she built upon it.  I want to be the kind of person that would make her proud to share her name with.  For me, my name is who I am.  It gives me a purpose and a direction to my life.

I’m not saying that everyone’s name means something that deep.  Your parents may have named you after a book or movie character, or thought that your name sounded cool.  But there was still a reason for your name; and apart from that and more importantly, there is a reason for you.

You are not an accident.  You are not a mistake.  You have a purpose. You have a mission.  You can be great. You are meant to be great.

You may have felt that you don’t matter.  That you want to change yourself or even get rid of yourself.  You might feel like being different is a bad thing, and you’re afraid to be yourself.  Well, I’m here to tell you this: forget about it.  Stop thinking that.  You DO matter.  You are the way you’re meant to be.  Becoming better isn’t change; it’s being more like your true self.  Everyone was made individually.  Mankind didn’t originate in a mass production of an identical item; you were meant to be different.  That’s what will make you successful.

Embrace your differences.  Your little oddities and quirks are who you are.  It’s those little things that take you to other places.  You don’t share and interest with someone? That’s okay.  Do your own thing.  If everyone was amazing at the same thing, no one would be.  There wouldn’t been a need for talent if talent was all the same.

Somewhere inside you is a genius.  A path and a purpose.  You.

And you matter more than you will ever know.

Forgiveness

A crying woman,

Kneeling in prayer.

The touch of a hand

Gently rests on her hair.

The woman looks up

With tears in her eyes,

But she can see no one

From earth to the skies.

She knows Someone is there,

Who has forgotten the past.

She has been made new;

Forgiven--at last!

~Christine P. Stewart*                                               

  

 

      Forgiveness. What a wonderful thing!  To be forgiven means to have mercy shown.  It means that no matter what has been done, everything is erased and a clean, new beginning is given.  And forgiveness is not a one-time opportunity.  It can be used every day, even multiple times in a day.  Every mistake, every wrong choice, every bad habit can be removed from the heavenly record.  Oh, what a blessing mercy is!

 

      However, there is a law of Heaven that does not allow justice to be cheated.  Mercy serves only one end of the deal: the one not fulfilled.  Justice says that both sides must receive what both agreed upon.  Both must get what each deserves, good or bad.  The consequences and punishments must be met.

 

      How then can mercy be shown and justice served?  The two sides only contend; one begging for mercy and the other demanding justice.  Neither can be satisfied, yet both must.  The transgressor has to be forgiven, or he will die.  The Master must be fully served, or the law cannot be obeyed.  There is only one way for all to be gratified.  That way is through a Mediator.

 

      To fully serve justice and truly show mercy, there must be a third party willing to pay the one and forgive the other.  In the great bargain of Life, Jesus Christ serves as our Savior; He redeems us from our sins and fulfills the law of justice.  He suffered even unto death for us in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross of Calvary.  Because of that selfless and love-driven Atonement, we do not have to pay for our mistakes.  When we need Him, He is there. Always.  All of us have free and constant access to the wonderful love and forgiveness described in the poem above.  The only thing required is our action--our decision to ask and our humble repentance.  If we promise to change, to do better, God will take our sins and forget about them.  They will be made glorious through the Grace of Christ.

 

      Because we are given this wonderful gift, we must likewise share the blessing.  We need to show mercy and forgiveness to all of our fellow men.   You do not need to expect that someone will come to save the one who is asking for your forgiveness, or otherwise you cannot give it; because not only does Christ pay the Father for the sins of the world, but He also will repay you for the mercy you show.

 

      My prayer is that we will follow the perfect and everlasting example of our Savior and Brother, Jesus Christ, and serve our fellow children of God with compassionate and forgiving hearts.  May we always look to Him in our times of need and of plenty; may we come to Him for help and to show gratitude.  I know He loves more deeply than our mortal minds can comprehend; I have felt that love in my life and I am eternally thankful for it.  I hope each one who reads this will know that God cares for them.  He has a special part of His love that is dedicated just for you.  Do not hesitate to come to Him and partake of His love and wonderful blessing.  There is no greater demand in this world than the need for God's love light to be shared and distributed.  I, for one, will do all I can to be a messenger of His endless love and mercy.

 

 

 

 

*Nom de plume.  (A.k.a. Patty Morford.)

Thought Flow

      They usually call it a train of thought, but I've ridden a train, and it's so rough and bumpy with unexpected turns and stops.  And yes, thought is sometimes like that. But right now I'm just going to type and let my thoughts flow.  This is one way I ponder: I just let myself think, and see where my thoughts take me.

      Right now I'm having some hard times. We all go through them.  Sometimes trials come from no fault of our own and there's nothing we can do about it, and sometimes our stupidity and human flaws cause these hard things for us.  This time I think my own hardheadedness has gotten in the way of things going well for me.  I can't help but feel very strongly that because I am unwilling to let go of certain feelings, unpleasant things are happening to help me learn.  Things that are affecting not only me but many around me.  I may not be the only reason for this trial, but I still feel that my mistakes are part of it.

      I want to make excuses. I want to point fingers and blame others. But I can't shy away from those three fingers pointing back at me.  When it comes to unwanted situations, I don't want to carry the responsibility of the blame.  I don't want to have to deal with the fact that it's my fault. But no matter what, any situation I am in, good or bad, is my fault.  My natural desire is for that to not be the case; but it is.  I know we are here on this earth to overcome the natural and obtain the glorious.  I naturally want to push off my duty and hide, but in my heart I spiritually desire to do right.  What I want most is to be like God.  My greatest fear is that at the last day I will finally be kept from the presence of my loving Heavenly Father.  I don't ever want to not be with Him.

      I had a dream about 7 years ago that I have shared with some people to whom I have been inspired to tell it.  One thing about it I can tell anyone: in that dream I was shown a small fraction of how it feels to truly be touched by God and His love.  It is a feeling I never want to lose.

      And yet, though I possess this wonderful memory, I do not feel that. I cannot sense His love as strongly or as often as I wish I did. There was a time not too long ago when I never felt His absence; His Spirit was with me constantly. But because of human nature and mortal life I have lost that. I have lost it; but I can find it again. I will find it again. I will work and pray and ask God to come back for me. I will not allow myself to fall behind.  I will pick myself up and move forward. I know that Heavenly Father will help me as soon as I put in enough effort. I will not allow myself to become discouraged any longer.  I will cease to be faithful in word only. As Elder L. Whitney Clayton said, "[My] actions are the evidence of [my] belief."*  "You cannot become without doing."**

      I will do. I will act.   My life will be better and closer to God.  Someone I greatly admire once said that he "patterns his life after his example of love and sacrifice."  I will follow his example and do the same. My example (and probably his as well) is my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

     The other day I was able to learn a bit more about the life of Joan of Arc.  The two years from the time she told of her divine calling to her death were truly in similitude of the Savior's life.  As I watched the story of Joan, I could not help but feel that I am not much different from she.  I have a mission. I have a purpose. I do not yet know exactly what it is I am meant to do, but I am working to be able to communicate with God as she did.  I pray that I will one day be as close to the Lord as she. I believe that if I work for it, that dream will someday be realized.

*Actual quote: "Our actions are the evidence of our belief."

**A quote from President Brad Bylund, President of the Goshen Utah Stake.

Choices

      "Do this. Do that. Oh, don't forget that. What about this?  Don't you want that?"  Opposing voices.  Confusion. Doubt.

      Decision:  n. a conclusion or resolution reached after consideration.
      Let's examine the different parts of this definition.

            "Conclusion"

      This word speaks of finality.  The end.  When you have reached a conclusion, you have completed your contemplation.  No turning back; you have finished.  There is a kind of fear that comes with this thought, is there not?  It seems as though we tend to be afraid of the end.  It means that it can't be changed; and we're not confident with our power to make the best decision.  That creates hesitation in our minds and hearts when it comes to making a choice.

            "Resolution Reached"
      This makes me think of a compliance, as if there was a disagreement that has come to a compromise. It is a reconciliation of opposing opinions.  When different parties combine ideas to form a final agreement.  But both of these have addressed the end of the decision-making process.  What about the process itself?

            "After Consideration"
      Before any decision is reached, there is some deliberation.  It is inevitable.  It may take hours or days or more, or it may require the smallest fraction of a moment.  It may occupy our thoughts constantly, or it may pass without being consciously noticed; but nevertheless, consideration occurs.  And this is the most important part of making a decision.

      I believe that we are not the result of our circumstances. I believe that we have the power to choose who we are to be.  I believe that God has a purpose for each of us, but I also believe that He has given us the power to choose whether or not we will follow the path He has laid out for us. There are so many voices that speak to us.  Some bad, some good, some better, some worse.  And in the middle of it all, we are capable of choosing our actions.  Nothing forces us to do anything. Sometimes we give that excuse; sometimes we truly feel that way.  But in reality, nothing can influence us unless we allow it to do so.  That freedom of choice is called agency.
      The word agency comes from the Latin root ag- which is the root of agere, which means to do, act, or manage.
      Therefore, we are our own masters (Latin for "master": ageto.  Same root!).  We control our own actions and choices.  I can choose who I am. I can decide what I do.  I have the power to think and reason so I can come to the right conclusion.  And I know that this power is from God.

Strength

      Is strength something that can be measured? Is it matter? Is it thought?  Does it really exist at all?

      There was a man who was hiking. Something happened and he ended up with his arm stuck under a boulder, trapping him.  He was alone; no communication with anyone else.  He was faced with two choices: free his arm, or die in solitude.  Now, who would choose the second option?  He of course was determined that he would not die there.  The boulder was several times bigger than he, and weighed even more than that.  He could not move it, especially lying down and pushing with one arm.  It seemed his only option then was to use his pocket knife to get rid of his trapped arm so he could go down the mountain and get help.  So that's what he did.
      Would he have had the strength to do that in any other situation?  Like if he was sitting at home in his rocking chair?  I know I wouldn't, and I don't think he would, either.  So what gave him that strength?  It looks like he didn't have it in the first place.  Do things like strength and bravery just come when you need them?  Do they originate from chemicals like adrenaline in your brain? Or is preparation required?

      I think that far within us, there is a core of strength.  It is who we are; we are strong.  But sometimes we don't need that strength. Sometimes it's not necessary to call upon that for support.  We think that because we don't appear to be "strong", we aren't.  But that is a great untruth.  Genuine strength is not an amount of muscle.  It's not really even something you can always see.  Real strength is God.  We are His children.  We have a part of Him inside us.  And that is our strength.  He is the one who bears us up; He gives us support when we feel weak.   He is the one who grants us that extra boost when all normal strength is gone.  He makes it possible for us to perform an act that is otherwise impossible and far beyond our own strength.  He provides help for others through us.
      But to be free to call upon that strength when we need it, we have to prepare.  God cannot be with those who do not bring themselves to Him.  Just like the way we won't gain muscle by sitting on the couch, we won't have God's support and trust if we don't work for it.  May we be worthy of His Divine help in our times of need, and be prepared to be His instrument in the service of others when they are weak.

Love

      What would we be without love?

      From the Noah Webster 1828 dictionary:
      

Love

LOVE, verb transitive luv. [Latin libeo, lubeo. See Lief. The sense is probably to be prompt, free, willing, from leaning, advancing, or drawing forward.]

1. In a general sense to be pleased with; to regard with affection, on account of some qualities which excite pleasing sensations or desire of gratification. We love a friend, on account of some qualities which give us pleasure in his society. We love a man who has done us a favor; in which case, gratitude enters into the composition of our affection. We love our parents and our children, on account of their connection with us, and on account of many qualities which please us. We love to retire to a cool shade in summer. Welove a warm room in winter. we love to hear an eloquent advocate. The christian loves his Bible. In short, we love whatever gives us pleasure and delight, whether animal or intellectual; and if our hearts are right, we love God above all things, as the sum of all excellence and all the attributes which can communicate happiness to intelligent beings. In other words, the christian loves God with the love of complacency in his attributes, the love of benevolence towards the interest of his kingdom, and the love of gratitude for favors received.

Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind -

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. Matthew 22:37.

2. To have benevolence or good will for. John 3:16.

LOVE, noun

1. An affection of the mind excited by beauty and worth of any kind, or by the qualities of an object which communicate pleasure, sensual or intellectual. It is opposed to hatred. love between the sexes, is a compound affection, consisting of esteem, benevolence, and animal desire. love is excited by pleasing qualities of any kind, as by kindness, benevolence, charity, and by the qualities which render social intercourse agreeable. In the latter case, love is ardent friendship, or a strong attachment springing from good will and esteem, and the pleasure derived from the company, civilities and kindness of others.

Between certain natural relatives, love seems to be in some cases instinctive. Such is the love of a mother for her child, which manifests itself toward an infant, before any particular qualities in the child are unfolded. This affection is apparently as strong in irrational animals as in human beings.

We speak of the love of amusements, the love of books, the love of money, and the love of whatever contributes to our pleasure or supposed profit.

The love of God is the first duty of man, and this springs from just views of his attributes or excellencies of character, which afford the highest delight to the sanctified heart. Esteem and reverence constitute ingredients in this affection, and a fear of offending him is its inseparable effect.

2. Courtship; chiefly in the phrase, to make love that is, to court; to woo; to solicit union in marriage.

3. Patriotism; the attachment one has to his native land; as the love of country.

4. Benevolence; good will.

God is love 1 John 4:7.

5. The object beloved.

The lover and the love of human kind.

      There are so many different kinds of love, as was explained above.  Love is the passion which drives us.  Without love, would we have reason to hate?  Would pain and injury have any effect if it did not impact our love?  Where would we find joy if love did not exist?  Would human companionship matter?  Would beauty be necessary?

   Love is the beginning of all emotion--and really, it is the source of everything.  It was because of love that God created this world.  It was love that drove Him to send His Son, and love carried Jesus through the Atonement.  If God did not love us, would He care if we went astray? Would He have given us agency at all?  If we did not love the people around us, even a little bit, we wouldn't care how our choices affected them, nor what they thought of us.  If we didn't love our country, we wouldn't be opposed to other nations.  If we did not love beauty, we would not work to preserve it.  If we did not love God, we would not desire to obey Him.

      Love defines who we are.  That which we love forms that which we are.  Our love, our emotion, should be centered on what matters most; which is God.  God encompasses all.  When God is our first and only love, all good things will be included in that.  We won't have a desire for that which is not of God.

      May our love be pure, even as Christ's; for Christ's love, charity, is the purest and strongest of all.