Friday, October 31, 2008

signing off

Dear Fellow Bloggers,
This will be my last post on this website. I thank you for tuning in. Love to all.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Frankie is back

Frank, our blue eyed cat, (named after blue eyed Frank Sinatra) has come back from the dead again. After a three day journey on his own in the neighborhood, Frank found Jean and I as we were taking a walk. Jean thought we should go home a different way (three wise men did the same thing) so we walked near the place where Emily had seen him last. Not far from there, we stopped to see another cat and as we paused to look, there was Frankie, walking toward us from who knows where. We took him home, 7 lbs of mostly bones, and started feeding him and giving him water and milk. That night and throughout the next morning he had a seizure about every 30 minutes. It was awful, so we took him in desperation to the vet. The vet wanted to do blood tests, but when he saw Frank have a seizure, he started talking about whether we were ready to say "goodbye." I wanted the doctor to give him seizure meds, but he said they take a month to start working. We settled on valium given in pill form for a week to see if we could calm Frank down and help him rest. Jean went to Smith's pharmacy where she found out there is another Frank Stone living in American Fork (no relation to me or Frankie). Frank has responded to the pills by resting and not having any more seizures. Little miracles are the best!

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

turn, turn, turn

The kid I kicked out of seminary, his parents, and I met on Monday afternoon. The kid had done a complete turn around. He promised to make a positive difference in class--and a day later--he came through on his promise. It was a miracle; a softening of the heart by God and a affirmation of the Atonement.

Friday, September 5, 2008

A teaching first

So, today I kicked one of my students out of seminary. It's a lousy feeling. But it's done. Now I know a little of what a mission president must go through when he sends an elder home. I tell you it is the lowest moment I can remember feeling as a teacher. The offense: refusal to do what the teacher asked X twenty, with attitude. I called his dad and we will be meeting on Monday. Why is it when I try to help someone, that they turn it around so it's my problem instead of theirs? Isn't that why I got out of counseling as a profession? Maybe it is my problem. Age. Lack of funniness. Failure to connect. Lack of patience and charity. I can here him saying to his parents, "he's so mean; everyone hates him; everyone wants to transfer to the other teacher; why is he picking on me, I'm not the only one who talks out of turn; he's so boring." Aging athletes have to face the fact they are not able to keep up any longer. I think it's time to think about a change. Brett Farve went to New York. That was dumb. Just stop when you're not able to throw the long pass anymore and do something else. I sure wish I could talk to Dad right now. He'd probably say "maintain contact" this will pass.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Son and Daughter-in-Law

Here's a big hip hip hurrah for Tina and Brandon. They are the best. Thank you for being such unique and talented individuals. Thanks for your laughter and your quirkiness. Thanks for your deep beliefs and spirituality. Thanks for being such good companions and loving parents. I love you both.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Here we go again

The first week back to school always brings sweetness and a few worries. For me, this time, it's been mostly sweet with some mild worries. The students have been terrific as always. Many new faces and new names must be learned quickly, or my effectiveness wanes. The new challenges are exciting and the good outweighs the negatives. I have, as always, a deep sense of awe for a loving Father who knows how to succor His children. It's in His capable and loving hands. JMNEE, we love you. SMJZA, you too.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Priesthood Blessings

Our dear home teacher, Bob Lee, and I gave Emily a blessing on Sunday morning. She has been quite sick for 3 days with strep and a fever. I was struck by the sacredness of the blessing and the Spirit attending. An amazing feeling of love for Emily swept over me. Family relationships are so amazing. I am so grateful for all of my children, grand children, and of course, Jean.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Answers

The first line of "yarns" was true. I went Yellowstone with Mark and Dan. We did see two bears and one moose. We did see a buffalo walking down the center of the road leaving doo doo in two spots. We saw lots of elk including some new little ones near the road. We did see lots of tourist in shorts. We did see a bald eagle. We did catch a lot of fish, mostly little brookies between 4 and 8 inches. We did not see any wolves or pelicans or huge biting insects. It was wonderful to hang out with two of my brothers. They are both great examples. Dan is heading to South Africa for a CES mission in a couple of weeks. We are in awe of the Ross family stamina as they make their way east. Hats off to the Illinois Stones for finishing their first year in the heartland. Nick has about a year to go at BYU and Eric has 7 more months in Colombia. Emily will be in 8th grade and she was just called as Beehive president. I went golfing today and shot 3 over par with a birdie at the last hole. The church is still true.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Yarns from Yellowstone

Last week I went to Yellowstone with Mark and Dan, two of my older brothers. We caught 500 fish altogether and saw 40 moose, 300 bald eagles, and 4 different packs of wolves. A buffalo, who was walking down the middle of the road stopped to talk to Mark, so, Mark rolled down his window and they discussed the chemical makeup of mountain grasses. We also stopped to examine the two pies deposited exactly on the yellow line about two and four miles from where we stopped to talk to the buffalo. They were definitely his. The elk herd was near 1000 with baby elk walking in a single line along the road so that the 32 buses could stop and admire. I counted 500 pairs of burmuda shorts and at least 150 men wearing black knee socks with their shorts. Yel-owl-stone is what the early explorers called the place because of a certain yelling noise by an owl species who made their nests among the stone formations. But somebody misheard and thought it was yellow-stone. We didn't see any owls but we did see a pelican with a 5 pound mosquito on its back. Old Faithful was spewing coins and the mudpots smelled like pizza. Your job is to find the one sentence in this yarn that is true.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Jury Duty

Today, I had the distinct privilege of going through the jury selection process. I was not selected. But, (we all have them) I had a great experience. It was a rare moment when I felt really proud of our country, our founding fathers, and the principles of the Constitution. Doing one's duty to one's country comes with a spiritual experience akin to doing one's hometeaching--only better somehow. I really wanted to get selected! The fact that I was willing to do my duty heightened my spiritual feelings. Most of my peers who were there were joking about how they could get out of being on the jury. I have to admit, I felt that way initially. But as the day wore on, I started to get into it. I felt something in my constitution about the Constitution. It was cool. I'm not dejected over the fact I was dismissed. But it would have been fun to go all the way to trial.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Moving on, moving out.

Yes, I am supportive of my children moving out of the house. Yes, I am supportive of the idea of them moving to far off places. A mission is acceptable. But this moving so dang far away that it has to be a earthshaking-logistical nightmarish-how-are-we-ever-going-to-do-it type of thing, well, that just isn't right. Jon and Michelle you are causing me to wish I'd never left Cache Valley and you never learned how to drive on the freeway farther than Ogden. What makes you think you can put this many miles between us? Well, when you're done with your running off and leaving your aging parents so you can get educated, we might just go off ourselves one day. Mission to the Canary Islands. Or Maui. That would serve you right.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

So you think you can teach seminary?

Most of you know how much I wanted to help out my Mom and Dad when they were so ill. We asked for a transfer and ended up at Orem Institute. We were shocked but felt good about the assignment. It meant I wouldn't be giving care to my parents, but at least we could make monthly visits. First Dad died of old age. Then Mom followed, two years later. With them gone, I have become the patriarch of my family here on Earth. What a lousy way to obtain a stewardship. I have missed them terribly and I have wanted to council with them so many times. Now, I must count on God as my Counselor. Maybe that's why Christ is called by that name by Isaiah. The same thing happened to him: lost his parents. Yet, my beloved children have become so wise. They don't need a lot of direction from me. Just a word here and there. Jean is so grounded and secure in her testimony of Christ, I never worry about her spiritually. Physically, she is pioneer stock. But she has a gene or two she could do without. Breast cancer runs deep in her family. Most recently, her mother and sister. We pray she got her dad's genes there. But he suffered Alzheimer's disease. Bad gene number two. Her mom's side doesn't have that problem. The reason I titled this post "seminary..." is because I made a leap of faith to teach at this level. And we finish the school year on Friday. It was an amazing experience. Harder than heck. But self-fulfilling. Right now I'm ready to retire. I'm tired. But I made it through one more year. Maybe I have 6 or more in me. More and more I become dependent on the Counselor. He must love me. Lord, help my unbelief. I am so prone to wander. I love my dear family. Please be patient with my less than polished patriarchal ponderings: pitiful.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

talking to Elder Eric Stone

I must say that Eric the boy has turned into Eric the man. What a great accent. He said he had spoken only Spanish for 8 straight months. Talking to him on Mother's Day was wonderful. He is 100% obedient and is reaping the spiritual rewards. He is fully committed to the Lord and we were all inspired by talking with him. May the Lord continue to watch over him, keep him safe, and bless him with his Spirit.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Born in '54; Turn 54; May 1, 2008

The planets have aligned and all who were born in 1954 are turning 54 this year. My day was greeted by white frosting on the lawn. Thanks, Mother Nature, for remembering my birthday.

Monday, April 21, 2008

A quiver full

I am so proud of my kids. Jon, Michelle, Nick, Eric, and Emily. Jon and Tina make such a great team. Juggling care giving, school, and church in masterful style, they carefully take care of each other's feelings and manage to make things sweet, living a day at a time in joy. Seth, Maryn, and Jonas. They are real and amazing and crazy fun. Each one with special gifts and talents. Each with powerful spirits in small and wiggly bodies. Michelle and Brandon. Strong, brave, sensitive, and smart, mixing common sense with vision, head strong with penitent, creative with concrete, they make it work because they understand God's plan and His ever present hand, shaping and creating new hearts within them. Zane and Annie. Brilliance and beauty. Nick. Becoming the man he wants to be. Reaching forward with high hopes and faith. Full of goodness and grace. Lover of good. Gifted with children. Eric. Elder Stone Loves Christ and His gospel. Loves the people of Colombia and is lost in the service of God. Emily. A special gift of caring about and loving her nephews and nieces that shows the depth of her character. Somehow she is the oldest, even though she is the youngest.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Missin Momma,
I miss my mom today. I remember her voice. She never raised it. She frequently laughed to tears. She distracted the grandkids when both wanted the same toy by a word. She cooked the gourmet concoctions. She gave guidance. She loved her garden. She grew squash just for fun. She asked how things were going. She never was vulgar--ever. She visited her neighbors every day. She gladly took care of my dad when his mental health went south. It went south a long time ago. I love you my dearest Momma.
Walter Boy

Thursday, April 3, 2008

grama bee part2

Now, a day after Mom past away, the memories are flooding in. One time I fell through the ceiling because I stepped on the pink insulation instead of the truss. I blasted through the ceiling tile and landed right next to her ironing board where she was busy with the clothes. She screamed, then laughed, then cried with me, then laughed with me. I must have been pretty skinny to fit through those trusses. Not a scratch.

Once I came home from a basketball tournament with a trophy. She said,"well maybe I ought to come to one of your games sometime." She put sports in perspective.

Like everyone else, she made me feel like I was her favorite, Jean was her favorite daughter-in-law, and our babies were by far her favorite grand kids.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

gramma bee

My dear mom is preparing to leave this world. She has been suffering for many years since her stroke. Last night she had trouble swallowing and possibly aspirated some food so she was taken to the emergency room of the hospital. While there she had a heart attack. The doctors thought she'd pass away last night, but her heart decided to get going again and she made it through the night. Today is my brother, Larry's birthday. It seems like the perfect day for Mom to die. Larry would be so happy for her. He and his dear wife, Tammy, have been there the past 6 years as she has tried to bounce back from a devastating stroke. He told me today he is hoping she can go very soon. And what a glorious reunion it will be for her. We love Larry and Tammy for being such wonderful caregivers. Eternal perspective is grand. Precious corridors of memory are so sweet. We luv you Gramma.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

'tis a gift to be simple

When Ann Morrow Lindberg wrote Gifts from the Sea, she had gone to Hawaii and found a few weeks of peace among the sand and the sea. I love that book; it spoke to my heart about simplicity, but it was somehow artificial because it was a manufactured peace lasting only for a few weeks. Perhaps she learned principles that could translate into a better lifestyle for her and her family. The kind of simplicity I have come to live in my life is driven by something quite unexpected: anxiety. When I was a boy, I was very active. Driven as I was, sports was a perfect match and I played and played. When I became a school boy anxiety was my friend once again pushing me to study and achieve. As a missionary, anxiety got me through a new language and endless memorizing. When I returned, anxiety got me through a college degree and a rocky relationship with my mother-in-law-to-be. If I worried enough, I could always find a way to make things work out. But at some point, anxiety became a dark friend. Instead of providing the creative energy to work things out it became a whirlpool of distraction, a rat's maze, a box. Of course, those are just ways of describing a state of mind. Because I was in the counseling profession, I learned of medication for depression and anxiety. I tried it at about age 30 and it became a help. Now that I am 53 I have over 20 years experience with this type of medication. All I can say is, medication is necessary for me, just like insulin is essential for the diabetic. One positive that comes from anxiety is you begin to simplify your life. The more you can make it simple the lower the anxiety level. Anxiety becomes a gift. People like me must have a simple life so from time to time I meet up with those who really make me up tight. Not because what they do is wrong; no, it's because they want to do things in a complicated or complex way. Their gift is different from mine. Knowing what He knows about me, God has given me the gift to be simple, and recently, I am becoming more appreciative of those who can take care of the the details, the planning, the administering, and the organizing, so that I can be myself. I don't hate complexity, I just can't do it; but God bless those who can! Every once in a while, a person who is more able to biggy size than I, will ask by opinion about something. I am able to give them a simple solution. Sometimes they will say "I never thought of that." That makes me feel happy to be the person I am. There is a place in the world for simple folk. This weak thing (anxiety) has become a strength. Praise be to the Lord.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Precious Corridors of Memory

President Monson uses this phrase occasionally in his talks: Precious Corridors of Memory. He loves to tell us stories from his amazing memories. I look forward to sustaining him as our new prophet. I am excited to open this new chapter of church history. I can't wait to hear more of his stories. I especially like the "Tommy" stories. I love it when he acts a little goofy. I love his slicked back hair and his smile. I love his poetic prose. If you want a recent treat, look at the "live in the present" portion of the his lead Ensign article this month. Hope we can continue to build good memories together.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

The Martian Child

Well, we just saw a good movie: The Martian Child. It's about a boy from Mars trying to fit in to Earth life (at least that's what he thinks). He is adopted by a science fiction writer dad, who has lost his wife two years previous to something we aren't told about. Maybe it's the Mars connection or maybe it's his longing for meaning in his life that brings him to want to adopt this boy. The whole time I felt myself being the Martian Child. This earthly experience seems so foreign and strange sometimes. Surely, this can't be where we are really from. At 53 I feel that only half of my life here on Earth has been lived. But I am so afraid of the rest of it. Muscles that were once flexible and strong, aren't. A mind that was full of imaginings is fearful. Experience, which is supposed to be a friend, isn't. Here in the birth canal called "midlife" I find myself being squeezed: not knowing where to conform or to rebel; not knowing when to sit or where to stand. Obama? Clinton? What's his name? Are those really the best we've got? Oh ya, did I mention my memory is going? What about the future? you ask. Isn't it bright with grand kids, and retirement, and leisure time? Well, maybe if I were from Earth. But I'm a Martian. I don't know how to act here. I am afraid of gravity. What if the ones whom I love leave? What if I'm bored without the routine of work? What if I'm too sick to travel or worse, what if I'm afraid to leave the house? Is "endure to the end" really all there is left in the Plan? Was this post fiction?

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

calling parents

Two Sundays ago, a member of the Primary presidency called me on Sunday night and asked me why I hadn't yet called to tell her how the students who had not attended were doing. "Well" I said, "laziness, I guess." "What are you going to do to rectify the situation Brother Stone?" she queried. "I'll have to think about that," I muttered, rather perturbed. "Some of these kids just need to know you care," she said with too much enthusiasm. "I think it's the parents that are responsible to get their kids to Primary, not me," I retorted rudely. "So when are you going to contact them? You could at least bring them the handout you used in class. You do have a handout prepared each week don't you?" She didn't sound the least bit upset with me, just persistent. "Actually, no," I replied, now ticked. The rest of the conversation was about her telling me how much the Primary presidency felt inspired when I was called, and how she felt I would do a great job. And she thanked me, sincerely, for the progress I was making with her son who is in my class. I hung up and felt like a dingleberry. I got the ward list out and called 5 parents. Each thanked me for my love and concern for their child. I called my presidency lady back and reported, then I told her how sorry I was for being a bum.

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Singing in the Tabernacle

Jean and I had a rare opportunity to sing for a world wide broadcast (move over American Idol) with 180 seminary teachers and spouses from Utah Valley. We formed a choir and sat in the actual seats of the MoTab and were accompanied by the MoTab choir organist, on the MoTab organ--pipes and all. Suddenly I'm craving Tab. Anyway, it was a great experience to be there and to sing. President Boyd K. Packer was the speaker. Also in attendance were Elders Nelson and Oaks. Pretty special indeed. One funny and human moment was when President Packer forgot President Eyring's name and had to turn to Elder Oaks to be prompted. They both laughed and President Packer said he is finding that 83 he is much older than he was at 82. I'm sure Elder Oaks can't wait to tell the Quorum, especially Elder Eyring. President Packer shared events from his life that shaped his teaching. He said that being church members is "good enough," stressing that members do their best and that is good enough. He said, "I'm nothing special--it's the office I hold." He warned of perilous times ahead and said anyone with the role of teacher "absolutely must" measure up to preserve our people. He said the words "absolutely" and "must" are rarely said by the General Authorities. They usually say "are to" instead of "must." For example, "Church members are to do the best they can." He "turned the keys" of the priesthood in our behalf, blessing us and our families. He stressed that the apostles hold all the keys. It was a once in a lifetime experience. To those aspiring to be in the Tabernacle Choir, beware, the seats are squished together and there is little foot room. But the view of the back of the General Authorities' heads: priceless.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

208,451,008th born of Heavenly Parents (me)

Well, somewhere thereabouts. I've been pondering my premortal self. Birth order is only one of the many mysteries. Nick is the oldest, then me, then Jean, then Jon, then Michelle, then Emily, then Eric. Of course we're talking fiction here. We lived in a home together, 100 individuals per home. All of these residences were occupied by significant others. Parents to be, children to be, siblings to be, and so forth. We lived together in the same village for 1000 years, then...

You write the next few sentences.

Friday, February 22, 2008

shake your cheerios

I used an object lesson you may like: Take a bag of cheerios out of the cardboard box so that all you have is a see-through container. Put a ping-pong ball at the bottom of the bag and cover it completely with about 6 to 8 inches of cheerios. Then shake the bag gently. After about 10 shakes the ping-pong ball will magically pop out on top! There are many applications but try this one:

From the May Ensign, 1997, Henry B. Eyring:

"Sometimes we will receive counsel that we cannot understand or that seems not to apply to us, even after careful prayer and thought. Don't discard the counsel, but hold it close. If someone you trusted handed you what appeared to be nothing more than sand with the promise that it contained gold, you might wisely hold it in your hand awhile, shaking it gently. Every time I have done that with counsel from a prophet, after a time the gold flakes have begun to appear and I have been grateful."

Today in seminary, one of my students said she never wants kids. So I told her to shake her cheerios and not chuck them out too soon. In other words, don't throw away the idea of motherhood before some significant time has passed and opportunities have come your way.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Ruth and Boaz

So, Ruth's mother-in-law had Ruth go and lay by Boaz's feet on their first date. Boaz is so classy that when he wakes he doesn't freak, he just say, who dat? Ruth's request was for his mercy and grace to cover her. Here were two virtuous and upright people going through a ritual: Boaz, acting as goel, or redeemer, covers her with his skirt (blanket). He reassures her all is well: he will be her protector and bridegroom. They marry and become a covenant couple. Ruth is the convert to the church; Boaz the life-time member. They have a son, Obed, who has a son, Jesse, who has a son, David....who has a daughter, Mary, and a son, Joseph, who have a Son, Jesus. Boaz typifies our Redeemer, Jesus Christ. Ruth typifies our adoption into the family of Christ, our conversion, rebirth, and covenant relationship with him. Christ has us covered. He loves us.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Whitestone

Jean and I have thought our last names combine into a rather romantic sounding pen name. So, when Michelle said she'd set me up with a blog, I decided to use it. The words on this blog will be my own unless I credit Jean. It's just a start. A place to say a few things as they come. I want to find my voice and share a few thoughts from time to time. Don't take what I write too seriously. Most of my thinking is incoherent. Writing it down is like trying to get Seth, Maryn, Jonas, Zane, and Annie to agree on who should be president. So just roll with it and don't hold me to some high standard of grammar.

First thought: I love my family.

a beginning...

here's to many words of wisdom...