From Jami Bernards to Elder BJ Bernards, dated August 5, 2008
Dear Elder,
I am so sorry to neglect your requests. I will try to get to the garment store this week and do that for you.
We had a small but very important miracle happen this week, the explanation of which must be that the Lord hears and answers your prayers. We have had troubles with cameras. I bought a nice digital camera with my Costco rebate about a year ago, and it was apparently stolen from Kids Korner after a staff meeting in January. I was so unhappy, especially since I didn't have the discretionary funds to replace it.
When we finally got our new rebate, I went down and bought another camera, just before Ben and Megan came to visit for the 4th of July, so I would be able to take pictures. I have been so distressed ever since they left, because I haven't been able to find it. Well, I got a call from Ben yesterday, asking if I had lost the camera. The kind people at the gym we went to on the 4th found a camera and have been asking around to try and find the owner. I called the girl at the desk yesterday, and she said when none of their regular patrons or employees identified it, they started calling the people who had had birthday parties there, and kept working their way back until they called Ben, who thought to call me and ask! I am so grateful that she would take the time to do so! I am going to pick it up today, and then we will get to work taking all of those pictures.
Following your example of putting the most important things at the beginning of your letter, please fast and pray for Brother Roger Morris, Camille's husband, Sam's and Rachel's dad. He has been on dialysis for several weeks now, and has finally been approved for a kidney transplant which is being donated by his nephew. He goes in for surgery on Aug. 15th.
My goodness, we have such a lot to do! I read from the BofM [Book of Mormon] this morning, about Ammon and the Lamanites who came over to live with the Nephites, and I am impressed with how many times throughout history the Lord has led his people from one place to another. It's like when I was pregnant with my first baby, really struggling with the difficulties of pregnancy, and I sat in the Marriott Center for a fireside and looked around and thought, 'Oh my goodness, some woman birthed every single one of the people!'
In a similar way, while I know the Lord from time to time has led many of his children from one place to another, the immensity of the undertaking nearly overwhelms me! The faith to leave everything behind that is known and loved and needed, and strike off into the wilderness, not knowing where you are going, when you will get there, or how you will survive when you get there -- the faith of those amazing people is nearly incomprehensible to me! This is the second time in my life I have moved somewhere sight unseen, following the inspiration of my husband and the confirmation of the spirit in my heart and the assurance of the reasoning in my mind. Alpine was a good place to come to, it has been difficult and filled with struggles and opportunities for personal growth, sacrifice, and learning, and now it is good to go forward.
On Sunday, as I considered that it was my last Fast Sunday in this ward, I wondered if I should bear my testimony, and determined that if the Spirit prompted me, I would do so. I sat in the meeting for some time without feeling the prompting, until I saw Pres. Cory Bangeter walk forward to speak. At that time I knew I should stand up, though I didn't know what I would say. Pres. Bangeter was in the stake Sunday School presidency for a long time when Dad was the ward Sunday School president for a long time (10 years, maybe, at least 3 different wards). Pres. Bangeter was then called to the stake presidency, and one year ago he and his wife were called to serve in New York City in the Church Educational System (CES).
Pres. Bangeter was born and raised here in Alpine, although they lived away out of state for a long time and then only moved back maybe 15 years ago or so. Anyway, his example of faith and courage has always been a role model for Dad, who has felt a connection of love and brotherhood with him. And here, in our ward, there were very few people in the congregation who even knew who he was -- interesting. When he stood up, he spoke of the intense need throughout the Church for mature, seasoned couples to go out and serve. He said it was like passing out candy to children, people were so grateful for their light and knowledge, wisdom, and service. Then he concluded with his powerful testimony of the truthfulness of the restored gospel.
As I stood to follow him, I felt impressed to share the sacred experience that my priesthood leader, my husband Brad, received the direction nearly two years ago that we should go. I shared a bit of my struggle in accepting that counsel, how difficult it is to leave what you love, and how I couldn't imagine a nicer place to live than somewhere where you know and trust and love your neighbors on every side, and feel their love in return. I thanked the many youth leaders who have served our children over the years, both in this ward and in others, who had given up personal vacations to take Scouts and Young Women on experiences that would build their testimonies. I shared how we have been in 9 different wards without moving once, and how I have seen the pain and difficulty of separation, followed by the love and bonding that comes from serving together in the gospel. I related how we have seen neighbors die, and many struggle with difficult, and even horrible illnesses, and how we have seen the youth struggle against the world and grow and overcome.
And through it all, the constant in our life has been the House of the Lord, how when we have been low . . . , and lower . . . , we have been able to come to His House each week and be fed at His Table. I am so grateful for the tender mercies of the Lord, in providing a Church for me to belong to, that blesses my life, that feeds and nourishes me spiritually, that gives me friends to love and serve, and others to love and look after me and mine. It is truly a privilege and the constant in my life, the iron rod that has without failing guided and protected me. And that now, it's our turn to go out and spread some candy around.
Afterwards, it was easier to talk to people. Instead of having to explain why we were going, we could just express love and sorrow at saying goodbye. Bro. Robert Cummings, whose wife Dalene died of cancer several years ago, who was in the Bishopric with Joe Nilsson while Ben served his mission, who came and helped up finish the basement apartment so we could rent it when we were desperate for income, gave me a hug and actually shed some tears while Dad and I spoke with him. I had shared in my testimony how we had seen Joe Nillson return from his mission, court his sweetheart Jill Harley who had just left my Laurel class, marry her and go on to serve as the Elder's Quorum president in our ward, and he is now our stake president.
Our lives have been blessed by many wonderful people who have been stalwart in their testimonies and their examples of constant love, faithfulness, service. It has truly been formative for us to live here. I remember when I was younger, struggling with my role as wife and mother and member of the church, and seeking role models to follow. I remember watching Elaine Devey sitting on the bench in the chapel with several grandchildren around her, week after week, year after year, and realizing that that was what I wanted in life, a family that endures, that spans the generations, that earth and hell combined cannot shatter. And I learned that that is worth every sacrifice.
There is nothing, NOTHING else in life that can satisfy the deepest yearnings of the soul, except to be sealed in the bonds of the priesthood with those that you love and who love you, trusting that their faithfulness will overcome every possible affliction and tribulation, rejoicing together in the faith that through the atonement of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who has overcome all things, that we too will one day overcome all things, and be reunited in His Kingdom to go no more out.
Showing posts with label obedience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label obedience. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Sunday, December 30, 2007
The Parable of the Marching Band
From Ben Bernards to Elder BJ Bernards, dated November 12, 2007
Hey BJ,
Hope you're doing well. Keep working hard, loving the people, loving your companion, and staying obedient. If you don't know what to do, get out and start talking to people Open your mouth. Make a game of it...get creative. Feel free to play people's guitars or drums -- or share it for a ward / branch / zone conference talent show.
My thoughts for today -- the Parable of the Marching Band. (Heh...you knew it had to come sooner or later, right?)
When I was in marching band, I had high aspirations to become Drum Major. I loved the importance, the power, the respect, etc. etc. I thought it was the most important role in the band...and I was mistaken. The most important role is that of Center Snare. Let me explain why.
Marching bands only work properly when everyone is marching and playing together, in time...right down to 1/128th of a beat. You can't be off by a fraction. You have to march in the right directions, stop where you're supposed to, point your bodies the right way, hold your instrument properly, play 6-10 pages of memorized music, and do so in perfect unison with several hundred other students. Some scientists have listed the number of simultaneous actions being performed during a marching band performance and determined that it cannot be done -- the human body simply cannot do all those things at the same time, let alone do them well. But countless of people, young and old, have done and continue to do so.
The drum major serves as a sort of visual metronome and conductor. They keep the beat, give signals as to how and when to play, and stand in a high, central place where everyone can see them. This does not guarantee that everyone WILL watch the drum major, and there are plenty of marchers that go the wrong way, play the wrong thing or at the wrong time, or otherwise mess up what would have been a beautiful, unified performance...all because they weren't following the drum major.
But the drum major isn't the true leader -- the Center Snare player is. You see, it is commonly observed that musicians in a group will subconsciously "follow" each other's musical cues in regards to tempo, volume, attacks and releases, and so forth. It is very easy to force the band to speed up or slow down, simply by speeding up or slowing down yourself, or to influence others to come in at the wrong time, play at the wrong volume, etc. etc., And if your instrument is easier to hear than others...such as high brass or woodwinds, or sharp percussive noises that are felt as well as heard...then others are more likely to follow your cues. Of all the instruments in the band that can throw off a group, drums are the worst -- musicians will subconsciously follow the beat that they feel / hear from drums more than any other player. In marching band, that means the Snare Line sets the tempo. And in the Snare Line, it's the Center Snare that leads all the others.
But this presents a problem. Sound waves are easily distorted. It is a simple job to follow the drum line's tempo when the marching band is in a closed room, lined up in a concert arc, and everyone can clearly hear and feel the beats. But when the band is spread out across an open air football field, and everyone is constantly moving in various directions, the sounds from the snare line are distorted and the beats are not felt / heard at the same time by everyone around the field. So if everyone tried to just march their show and play their music and only rely on the distorted audio cues, they wouldn't play in unison and the effort would fail.
That's where drum majors come in.
Now, even though they're on a podium and not moving and up higher than the other players, they still have the auditory problems that the other musicians deal with -- the drum major can't rely on the sound of the of the snare lines to set the tempo.
But they can rely on their eyes.
Light travels faster than sound. And the Center Snares feet (if he / she is worthy of her position) are constantly marking the time and moving in perfect synchronization with the tempo.
So no matter where the Snare Line moves, as long as the Drum Major watches their feet, he will be able to set the proper tempo.
And as long as the Band is watching the Drum Major and follow what they see, and not follow the other signals they're receiving all around them, they will be playing in unison. It takes great faith to follow that drum major and keep your eyes on them, but doing so is the only way to guarantee that the performance will be of championship quality.
It's especially difficult when the marchers around you take their eyes of for a split second, lose the beat, or follow a different signal that they're feeling / hearing. As marchers, you have to learn how to work together to maintain proper body spacing to create the visual shapes of the show; you align yourself based on where certain anchor and focus points are, it's the only way to make sure your lines are straight and your curves are not. But if you rely too much on the people around you, and don't follow the drum major, you and those around you will mess everything up.
This test of being able to follow the drum major is frequently pushed to the extreme in a friendly competition we called "The Drill Down". We only did it once a year. Everyone lines up in a big square grid without their instruments, and simply marches around, following verbal orders from the drum major and marching in time to the metronome beat clicked out with a pair of clavy's. It's an endurance / obedience contest to see who is the best marcher and can last the longest. If you make one tiny mistake -- you step off too soon / too late, stop too soon / late, turn the wrong direction, miss a beat, don't keep your arms up at the right angle -- you are eliminated. Those eliminated stand on the sidelines and watch as the pool of marchers gets smaller and smaller, the commands come more rapidly, the tempo increases dramatically, and the overall difficulty jumps by leaps and bounds.
Eventually only one or two people remain standing. When it's evident that they can't be eliminated via a march off, they are put to the final test, to see if they can be forced or persuaded to "break attention", i.e., to crack a smile, blink their eyes, drop their arms, or otherwise stop standing at perfect attention. Everyone that has been eliminated is given free reign to do or say anything they want to force that remaining marcher to break attention, and they will continue until he is broken or the drum major declares him the winner.
In my last drill down, I'd made it down to the final two. One of my good friends was the other marcher, and he was eliminated in a series of tricky calls and maneuvers that I'd barely performed myself. I was left standing there at attention, and the drum major yelled for everyone to "come break me." I stood there at attention as 200 kids ran full speed at me, charging like the glorious Rohirrim at the Battle of Minas Tirith, yelling and screaming and coming to stop within centimeters of my face. I was instantly engulfed in a sea of screaming, gnashing, tormenting pubescent marching band geeks that jostled and swirled and yelled and played their piccolos at high-pitched minor-second intervals (but then, I"m being redundant) -- can you imagine a more ghastly, horrifying, vortex of humanity? Me neither.
They took great pride in trying to break me, screaming in both of my ears at point blank range, trying to do anything and everything to break me. THey even started invoking names of color guard girls I was interested in and pulling at my clothes (I think someone even tried to pants me and see what I would do.)
The only thing I could do was to close down my 'external' senses and focus every bit of mental concentration I had on a single point of steely resolve, far far away in my mind. Everything rolled off me like raindrops, and I felt tossed like a ship on the ocean...but no matter how hard the waves of the marchers crashed, I would.....not....capsize. I simply wouldn't. I had made up my mind that I was going to win, and nothing would keep me from breaking.
The storm lasted forever. My arms and back were burning. My eardrums were ringing in pain from the screaming and yelling. But my mind stayed calm and quiet, and I knew that it would soon be over.
And over it was. The drum major called off the hounds, and the staff members watching quietly came over, dismissed me from attention and congratulated me. I nearly collapsed right there on the field and I'm sure the others cheered and jeered a bit. Practice went on and I didn't receive any award or recognition for it...but I knew what I had accomplished. I knew that when I'd set my mind to stay at attention, I would do it, no matter the cost, no matter the torment around me. A sweet peaceful strength made itself right at home inside me for a long time after that, as I knew what I was capable of.
So, enough of the story. I'm sure the parable is pretty clear.
Who is the Center Snare? And Who is His Drum Major? Or the Assistant Drum Majors or Section Leaders? Who do you look to? Who will you follow? Who will you keep your eyes on, even when those around you try to step off at the wrong time, who march the wrong direction, who play the wrong music? Wherein will you find your resolve when the world tries to crash upon you? When you are "called to attention", would you stand so, even if those around you break and try to get you to break as well? Would you stand alone in the face of all the other missionaries? Would you march to the beat of His drum, even if you were the only person doing so?
I know you would. In the words of Samuel D. Bernards, "You are mighty...because you kneel."
I love you bro. Work it up.
Cheers,
Ben
Hey BJ,
Hope you're doing well. Keep working hard, loving the people, loving your companion, and staying obedient. If you don't know what to do, get out and start talking to people Open your mouth. Make a game of it...get creative. Feel free to play people's guitars or drums -- or share it for a ward / branch / zone conference talent show.
My thoughts for today -- the Parable of the Marching Band. (Heh...you knew it had to come sooner or later, right?)
When I was in marching band, I had high aspirations to become Drum Major. I loved the importance, the power, the respect, etc. etc. I thought it was the most important role in the band...and I was mistaken. The most important role is that of Center Snare. Let me explain why.
Marching bands only work properly when everyone is marching and playing together, in time...right down to 1/128th of a beat. You can't be off by a fraction. You have to march in the right directions, stop where you're supposed to, point your bodies the right way, hold your instrument properly, play 6-10 pages of memorized music, and do so in perfect unison with several hundred other students. Some scientists have listed the number of simultaneous actions being performed during a marching band performance and determined that it cannot be done -- the human body simply cannot do all those things at the same time, let alone do them well. But countless of people, young and old, have done and continue to do so.
The drum major serves as a sort of visual metronome and conductor. They keep the beat, give signals as to how and when to play, and stand in a high, central place where everyone can see them. This does not guarantee that everyone WILL watch the drum major, and there are plenty of marchers that go the wrong way, play the wrong thing or at the wrong time, or otherwise mess up what would have been a beautiful, unified performance...all because they weren't following the drum major.
But the drum major isn't the true leader -- the Center Snare player is. You see, it is commonly observed that musicians in a group will subconsciously "follow" each other's musical cues in regards to tempo, volume, attacks and releases, and so forth. It is very easy to force the band to speed up or slow down, simply by speeding up or slowing down yourself, or to influence others to come in at the wrong time, play at the wrong volume, etc. etc., And if your instrument is easier to hear than others...such as high brass or woodwinds, or sharp percussive noises that are felt as well as heard...then others are more likely to follow your cues. Of all the instruments in the band that can throw off a group, drums are the worst -- musicians will subconsciously follow the beat that they feel / hear from drums more than any other player. In marching band, that means the Snare Line sets the tempo. And in the Snare Line, it's the Center Snare that leads all the others.
But this presents a problem. Sound waves are easily distorted. It is a simple job to follow the drum line's tempo when the marching band is in a closed room, lined up in a concert arc, and everyone can clearly hear and feel the beats. But when the band is spread out across an open air football field, and everyone is constantly moving in various directions, the sounds from the snare line are distorted and the beats are not felt / heard at the same time by everyone around the field. So if everyone tried to just march their show and play their music and only rely on the distorted audio cues, they wouldn't play in unison and the effort would fail.
That's where drum majors come in.
Now, even though they're on a podium and not moving and up higher than the other players, they still have the auditory problems that the other musicians deal with -- the drum major can't rely on the sound of the of the snare lines to set the tempo.
But they can rely on their eyes.
Light travels faster than sound. And the Center Snares feet (if he / she is worthy of her position) are constantly marking the time and moving in perfect synchronization with the tempo.
So no matter where the Snare Line moves, as long as the Drum Major watches their feet, he will be able to set the proper tempo.
And as long as the Band is watching the Drum Major and follow what they see, and not follow the other signals they're receiving all around them, they will be playing in unison. It takes great faith to follow that drum major and keep your eyes on them, but doing so is the only way to guarantee that the performance will be of championship quality.
It's especially difficult when the marchers around you take their eyes of for a split second, lose the beat, or follow a different signal that they're feeling / hearing. As marchers, you have to learn how to work together to maintain proper body spacing to create the visual shapes of the show; you align yourself based on where certain anchor and focus points are, it's the only way to make sure your lines are straight and your curves are not. But if you rely too much on the people around you, and don't follow the drum major, you and those around you will mess everything up.
This test of being able to follow the drum major is frequently pushed to the extreme in a friendly competition we called "The Drill Down". We only did it once a year. Everyone lines up in a big square grid without their instruments, and simply marches around, following verbal orders from the drum major and marching in time to the metronome beat clicked out with a pair of clavy's. It's an endurance / obedience contest to see who is the best marcher and can last the longest. If you make one tiny mistake -- you step off too soon / too late, stop too soon / late, turn the wrong direction, miss a beat, don't keep your arms up at the right angle -- you are eliminated. Those eliminated stand on the sidelines and watch as the pool of marchers gets smaller and smaller, the commands come more rapidly, the tempo increases dramatically, and the overall difficulty jumps by leaps and bounds.
Eventually only one or two people remain standing. When it's evident that they can't be eliminated via a march off, they are put to the final test, to see if they can be forced or persuaded to "break attention", i.e., to crack a smile, blink their eyes, drop their arms, or otherwise stop standing at perfect attention. Everyone that has been eliminated is given free reign to do or say anything they want to force that remaining marcher to break attention, and they will continue until he is broken or the drum major declares him the winner.
In my last drill down, I'd made it down to the final two. One of my good friends was the other marcher, and he was eliminated in a series of tricky calls and maneuvers that I'd barely performed myself. I was left standing there at attention, and the drum major yelled for everyone to "come break me." I stood there at attention as 200 kids ran full speed at me, charging like the glorious Rohirrim at the Battle of Minas Tirith, yelling and screaming and coming to stop within centimeters of my face. I was instantly engulfed in a sea of screaming, gnashing, tormenting pubescent marching band geeks that jostled and swirled and yelled and played their piccolos at high-pitched minor-second intervals (but then, I"m being redundant) -- can you imagine a more ghastly, horrifying, vortex of humanity? Me neither.
They took great pride in trying to break me, screaming in both of my ears at point blank range, trying to do anything and everything to break me. THey even started invoking names of color guard girls I was interested in and pulling at my clothes (I think someone even tried to pants me and see what I would do.)
The only thing I could do was to close down my 'external' senses and focus every bit of mental concentration I had on a single point of steely resolve, far far away in my mind. Everything rolled off me like raindrops, and I felt tossed like a ship on the ocean...but no matter how hard the waves of the marchers crashed, I would.....not....capsize. I simply wouldn't. I had made up my mind that I was going to win, and nothing would keep me from breaking.
The storm lasted forever. My arms and back were burning. My eardrums were ringing in pain from the screaming and yelling. But my mind stayed calm and quiet, and I knew that it would soon be over.
And over it was. The drum major called off the hounds, and the staff members watching quietly came over, dismissed me from attention and congratulated me. I nearly collapsed right there on the field and I'm sure the others cheered and jeered a bit. Practice went on and I didn't receive any award or recognition for it...but I knew what I had accomplished. I knew that when I'd set my mind to stay at attention, I would do it, no matter the cost, no matter the torment around me. A sweet peaceful strength made itself right at home inside me for a long time after that, as I knew what I was capable of.
So, enough of the story. I'm sure the parable is pretty clear.
Who is the Center Snare? And Who is His Drum Major? Or the Assistant Drum Majors or Section Leaders? Who do you look to? Who will you follow? Who will you keep your eyes on, even when those around you try to step off at the wrong time, who march the wrong direction, who play the wrong music? Wherein will you find your resolve when the world tries to crash upon you? When you are "called to attention", would you stand so, even if those around you break and try to get you to break as well? Would you stand alone in the face of all the other missionaries? Would you march to the beat of His drum, even if you were the only person doing so?
I know you would. In the words of Samuel D. Bernards, "You are mighty...because you kneel."
I love you bro. Work it up.
Cheers,
Ben
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