My Easter talk

Since this is my journal, I wanted to put my talk in. :)


I have been thinking for a couple of weeks now about what Easter means to me. To me, Easter is the culmination of Christmas. Without Easter, Christmas would mean nothing.

We started out this past week reading about Holy Week, the last week of the life of Christ. Then the business of Spring Break interceded and Boaz and I got on the road, and we didn’t finish the reading as a family.

But I thought about the events. The time spent in the temple teaching. The Last Supper and Intercessory Prayer. The Garden of Gethsemane. The trial. The crucifixion. The time in the Spirit World. The Resurrection.

Easter is a celebration of the Resurrection.

I’d like to share two of my favorite scriptures about Easter Sunday from the New Testament.

The first one is from John 20. Peter and John had run to the tomb. They had looked inside, seen the empty burial clothes, and returned back to their houses. And Mary stayed at the empty tomb. She was weeping. She sees the two angels and mourns that she does not know where the body of Jesus is now. She turns around, and with tear filled eyes sees Jesus. If she is like me, the tears would have blurred her vision. When I have tear filled eyes, I can see shapes and muted colors, but the details of facial features are beyond me. Jesus initiates conversation and asks why she is crying. She thinks he is the gardener and asks where the body of Jesus is.

And verse 16 says, “Jesus saith unto her, Mary.”

And that was all it took. He said her name, and she knew who He was. She heard His voice and responded, just like she had done countless times since she had become his disciple.

I imagine that His voice was filled with tenderness and pain as He felt grief at her pain. But I also believe that His voice was triumphant. He had just fulfilled His mission.

I love this story. This moment when overwhelming grief turns to bewildering joy. This happy reunion.

Another story that I love is when two disciples are traveling the Road to Emmaus. They are talking about what they had heard had happened that day. They rehearse his trial, his crucifixion and the stories of the women and the empty tomb and the proclamation of the angels of his resurrection.

Jesus walks with them and teaches them why it must have happened so. They drew near unto their destination – Emmaus, and Jesus pretended to continue on. They invited Jesus to, “Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.” (Luke 24:29) Just as a side note, I love the song “Abide With Me, Fast Falls the Eventide”. To me that song is an Easter Song.

Back to the story, Jesus goes in with them and blessed and brake the bread, “And their eyes were opened, and they knew him” (vs. 31)

This too is a reunion story.

The older that I get, the more Easter is a promise of sweet reunions. Both sets of my grandparents have died. My Dad has passed. My nephew lived for about 18 hours. I married into a family where an infant visited this Earth just briefly.

I have people there waiting for our reunion. I’m not saying that I am ready to go right now, because I am not. But I am aware of our scheduled meeting in the future. And the knowledge of that meeting influences the decisions that I make in my life now.

This past week, I drove to Oregon briefly to attend the temple with my niece as she attended for the first time. My brother drove from St. George to drive with Boaz and I. My two sisters, one brother in law, three nieces, and one brother drove from Salt Lake. My other brother drove from Washington, where he is attending school.

On this past Friday, my family gathered at the temple. My aunt and cousin came. Dear friends came. We had a reunion at the Portland, Oregon Temple. I saw people that I knew from when we lived in Gresham – over nine years ago. I saw people from when we lived in Madras – over four years ago. And I saw people from when I lived in Dallas – about two years ago. Everywhere we went, I knew somebody.

And I thought about the promise of Easter. I thought about the sweet reunions of the dear friends I have made and left in all my travels.

To me Easter is the holiest day of the year. It is a celebration of the victory of Christ.

We don’t have huge Easter baskets. Partly because I don’t really do fru-fru things. Partly because I don’t have girls. Partly because I think Easter should not be commercialized. And this year, because I just didn’t have time. And honestly, partly because I married Craig. We do have chocolate. I don’t need any excuses to bring chocolate into the house.

After Church, I want to talk to the boys about the importance of Easter. I am grateful for this talk. It gave me the acceptable reason to leave the family reunion early, so I didn’t have to travel on Easter Sunday. It gave me motivation to ponder my feelings on Easter, and to perhaps see the small miracles in my recent journey.

I believe Easter is a holy day – not a holiday. A day to “stop and stand still” (D&C 5:34) and give the Spirit a chance to whisper to our souls. A day for us to invite the Savior to Abide with us; to be our welcome guest. (Hymn no. 165 “Abide with Me; ‘Tis Eventide”)

Spring Break

Craig had to get right to work the next Monday, but the boys and I had Spring Break. So I got to sleep in and rest up while Craig had to get up and go to work. He hates the days that he is the only one getting up. I felt bad for him, but I was happy to not have to get up.

That Friday, Karly was taking out her endowments. She is getting ready to go on a mission. She will be serving in the Salt Lake City Mission.

My brother, Joe, drove up from St George on Wednesday night. We drove all night and arrived in Oregon Friday morning. We met Brenda for breakfast in Salem where we ordered lunch. I was happy to get a yummy salad. There is something about traveling that messes with my innards. I must be getting older.

After we ate, we drove to Dallas and showered up. I had a few people that I needed to see. My friend, Gladys, was turning 100 years old. I called and went to visit. I would miss her party by a day, but I got to see her. I also saw my former Visiting Teacher. Her dad was celebrating a birthday as well. I think he was turning 87.

Willa, Pete, Kayla, and Alysa arrived that night. Deb, Ivan, Raven, and Paul arrived that night too. Carl arrived Friday morning.We had a yummy breakfast and got ready and headed to the temple. Boaz and I wanted to get to the temple early to meet with Thea.

Thea looked so good. It was great to see her. I have missed her. We went to find a restaurant and saw the rest of the family. We piled into a Oriental rice bowl place and chatted and laughed and ate. It was great.

We went to the temple and took a few pictures.

Cousins at the Portland Temple. Karly had already gone in.

Beautiful girls.

Getting Boaz in the action. He was happy to see Thea. In fact, he agreed to the long drive to be able to see her.

Sweet picture. Don't they look happy?

At the temple I kept seeing people that I knew from everywhere I had lived in Oregon. Outside, I saw a couple from when we were in Madras. In the dressing room, I saw a daughter of our across the street neighbor from Gresham. Our former bishop and his wife were in the session with us. They were the ones we traveled to Spain to see last year. Some of the temple workers were members of our ward in Gresham. I saw the daughter of my former Relief Society President from Madras. It was sweet reunions all day long. I think that is what heaven will be like. Seeing people that you loved from all periods of your life. And happy smiles to be meeting in such a happy, amazing place.

These pictures are from after the session.

Boaz took a picture of his friend, Moroni.

Our group in the atrium. Willa and Pete, Joe, Me, Carl, Karly, Kayla, Brenda, Tim, Kimberly. In the front: Auntie, Deb, Raven

Auntie and Karly.

Auntie, Karly and Kimberly

Outside in front of the flowering cherry (I think) tree.

Boaz, Alysa and Ivan joined the group.

Paul has the hat on. He came out from behind the camera for this one.

Pete wanted to be able to see the pretty tree.

I had found a duck in the shrubbery and was communing with the wildlife. Brenda needs documentation on me every once in a while. An odd picture, I know. But I like it. :)


It was a beautiful day. We drove back to Brenda's and just talked.

Saturday morning, Joe, Boaz and I left. The others stayed for a barbecue.

Joe needed to get back for Sunday responsibilities and I had a talk to prepare. Besides, I do not like driving on Sunday. I've had tire problems the last two times I drove on Sunday. And I think Easter is the holiest day of the year. Not a day to drive and miss Church.

It was an amazing trip. So good to see so many family members in the temple.

Trip home

Craig and I decided that we needed to get home. We were worried, because we were traveling on buddy passes. We tried to get out Thursday night. We thought we were being smart, because who leaves Hawaii on a Thursday?

Apparently a lot of people leave Hawaii on a Thursday. We almost made it on the plane, except a United flight was delayed and the passengers were scrambling. We spent several hours at the airport Thursday night. We tried talking to United. But because of our ticket, they couldn't help us.

We ended up buying a ticket off the island to San Jose, CA. We had a confirmed ticket for Friday. We spent the night in San Jose and tried to get out Saturday morning. We just missed the plane for Salt Lake. In fact, I was on the walk way and they called me back. There were two passengers in one seat.

We caught a shuttle to San Francisco and tried from there. We were the last two seats on the airplane. I was so happy to be on our way.

We missed the boys and were ready to be home.

Our trip was amazing, but the traveling was exhausting. Just writing this brief and boring account makes me tired again.

We made it home, and we hugged our boys, and we asked forgiveness from the cats.

All in all, it was a great trip.

The Mantas

So my real snorkeling test came Wednesday evening. I had known since my first time that I would be doing this. It seemed impossible then, but I had really grown in my abilities -- much faster than I imagined I could.

We drove to Jack's Diving Locker to get fitted out with wet suits. Craig also got a snorkel mask, because I was using his that he had rented from Snorkel Bob's when we first arrived. We signed the disclaimers -- always a fun thing to do. We got in the van and drove over to the boat. We met our Captain -- now I can't remember her name. She looked like she was in her 20's, along with our two guides. We listened to all the rules.

We boated out about 45 minutes to the spot. Just off the rocks by the Kona Airport. The water was 35 feet deep. We rode out in front of the boat, with the wind in our faces. I loved it. I like being on boats. To get there we had to hold onto little railings and walk the 6 inch path around the bridge. In the harbor it was no big deal. The ocean was really calm that night, so really no big deal to get back, but I was still a bit nervous. We got our wet suits on, received our assignments -- which board we were on, and got into the water. The sun was going down.

So, to be perfectly frank, I was getting into the ocean knowing it was 35 deep where we were and it was getting dark.

The only way I think I would ever be talked into doing anything so crazy -- because let us remember that I am afraid of water that is over my head (and 35 feet of water is way over my head) -- is that I really, really, really wanted to be a part of swimming with MANTA RAYS!

The deal is that they have SCUBA divers on the bottom with lights shining up and then the snorkelers are on top with lights going down. The lights attract plankton, and the plankton attracts the mantas. They come to feed.

They are careful to point out that mantas are wild animals and they cannot guarantee that they will come the particular night that you choose to get in the water to see them. Hence, no refunds.

So we go out with hope that they will be hungry that night.

Mantas have no teeth -- or very small ones. They are filter feeders. They have so stingers in their tails. They are not aggressive. The guides are there to help you and keep you safe. They were careful to say that if you are scared, they can point you to the correct boat, or swim you over there -- even hold your hand.

I knew the basics about mantas before I even went to Hawaii, so I knew they would not eat me.

Craig was the first one in the water. That meant I was the second. I got in, and swam over to the surf board. The surf board was modified -- there were eight holes cut in it where they had inserted heavy duty flashlights. It was  "mounted" on a frame of PVC pipe. We hung onto the pipe. The idea was to float and keep our feet out straight and our feet pointed to give as much space under water as possible for the mantas.

I had the five other people of my group -- family members -- as well as the guide to keep me on track and safe.

We swam out around the other boat that brought the SCUBA divers in and entered the light zone. We saw schools of fish -- not the colorful reef fish, but the larger silver fish of the ocean.

Within about five minutes, we had our first encounter. A manta ray, attracted by the plankton that was attracted by our lights, came and started swimming in upside-down somersaults to eat. Maybe backward somersaults is a better way to describe it. And where we were not supposed to initiate contact, if they touched you it was all good.

I think everyone on our board was honored by being touched by a manta that night. They would swim so close to the board that it was almost like we were laying on top of them.

Our mantas were the smaller coastal rays. They would grow to have a wingspan of about 12 feet. The bigger ocean mantas can grow to have a wingspan of 22 feet. Our rays were all black on the back, the ocean mantas have white patches on their shoulders.

Each manta has a unique pattern of spots on their tummies that people use to identify them. Just off the coast of Kona there is a population of about 200 individuals.

I chose this picture because you can see right into their mouths. I saw the gills, looked into their eyes, and stared into their gullets.

After the dive, our guides told us the average number of mantas on any given night was 2. At one time I saw 9 together. Just in our little corner of the light field. The guide estimated that there were at least 20. I don't have the real number. But, needless to say, our outing was extraordinary -- for us and the guides who took us.

We were in the water for over 45 minutes, and I would have stayed longer. It was simply magical.

I was touched several times. A couple of times, I could feel the tail caress my leg as he swam in his somersaults. Once I could feel him on my hand. It sounds like Craig got touched more than I did, but I was happy with what I was graced with.

Josh is so jealous. He thinks we are so not fair that we didn't take him. Boaz felt better when I told him he had to be at least 10 to be able to go.

This was the highlight of the trip for me. Simply amazing.

Wednesday

We tried to get into a good beach by a ritzy hotel. But they have limited parking spots, and we didn't make it in. So we went to plan B. A beach that requires a bit of a hike. The road was bad, but not as bad as one that has become something of a family legend. Apparently, that road required Jeeps and a bit of sideways driving.

This road was just bumpy, bumpy, bumpy.

We parked and had about a mile to go. Of course, we passed beaches along the way, but we were headed to a special beach. :)

We found one that was a nice shallow somewhat rocky area. I learned to bob in in the water there. It was shallow enough beyond the breakers that I could still reach sand. Kris and I played for a while. I miss-judged a landing -- after riding a swell -- and rammed my foot into a jagged rock. It was all alone in the sand. Ouchie! But the beach was beautiful.

Craig decided to see if he could see anything snorkeling. He said it was a good spot. I came out of the water, and decided that I would go with him. I got geared up, borrowed the boogie board, and tried to navigate the beach with my flippers. I was walking sideways, because I was trying to see where I was going. The waves were pretty strong. I thought I was through, and ended up being tossed around a bit. I came up sputtering. Craig erupted in laughter. I spat out the mouthpiece, not realizing that it had become separated from the snorkel tube.

I lost it.

It was gone.

No where to be found.

I was entirely deflated. I wanted to go see the fish. I wanted to be able to do something amazing and hard, and I ruined it.

Everybody was nice. Craig asked if my being able to breath wasn't a indicator that the mouth piece was  not attached? But coming up sputtering from a big wave, my logic wasn't engaged. Brad and Kris helped look in the water, I searched the rocks and the waves. I knew it was gone. I knew I was keeping the search going, and interrupting the fun. I had said a silent, little prayer, but I knew it was hopeless. I went back to the bobbing. Others offered their snorkels, but I said no. I didn't want them to not be able to snorkel.

Really, it was one of those awkward times when you do something stupid that effects you and you try and not let it effect the others.

I felt stupid.

Craig said there were a lot of parrot fish and he would wear the small pool goggles and I could wear his mask. He would guide me where they were.

I said okay. I went past the breaking waves, put on my flippers -- much easier, and off we went. The most amazing thing happened. The mask didn't leak. I didn't have water bathing my nose the whole time. It was so much better. His mask was so much better.

I was amazed. The wind had picked up a bit, the sky had gotten  darker with a small storm, and the fish had all but disappeared. But I had an experience with a mask that I didn't know was available.

Sometimes I think life is like that. A variation on Plato's cave. We think we have the best available and that prevents us from looking for improvements. I think God's answer to my quiet, little prayer was 'try a different mask and see how it can really be.'

This was important for the evening activity.

But first a few pictures from our morning trip before I rush to work.

My computer is freaking out. So I will add the pictures later. :)

Let's see if the computer is feeling better after work. :)

Yeah, it is working.

Craig up on the top of the dunes watching the whales breaching.

Carrying our grass mats to the beach. The black lava rock was crazy.

This picture looks more desolate. No palm trees. Not a normal idea of Hawaii. The hat is new. I'm trying to not get a sunburn.

My cute man taking a nap on the beach. Really he was ready to get up, but he put the hat back on his face so I could get the picture. Obviously he is wearing a different shirt than the other picture. Hence it is ia different day. This picture might be from Thursday morning.

The beach. But this is from Thursday morning as well. Can you see all the sand in the waves. The water beyond the break is beautiful and blue and at the break it is all tan and sandy.

Tuesday

I'm starting to get it all mixed up in my head. So I have to get going on this.

Tuesday we went to Captain Cook's memorial. It is in a lovely bay and the memorial is where he was killed by the natives. The only problem is that you have to go there by boat. Last trip it was the others favorite site.

This time, the environmentalists had scored a  victory and it was off limits. Only very limited people had permits to go to the memorial, and there was no snorkeling. I took a few pictures.

This was as close as we got to the Captain Cook Memorial. It seems pretty silly to me to have a memorial that nobody, or very few people -- depending on your political connections -- can go see.

This was a sacred spot to the islanders. There was a temple, or the remains of a temple. You couldn't climb on it. But I got a few pictures.

The little monument in front of the temple is where a crew member from Cook's boat was killed. This created a problem, because the natives started thinking that the Europeans were perhaps not gods after all. They had been received in a similar manner as Cortez and Pisaro. Only the Hawaiians got off a lot better.

The walls around the corner.

The walk way to the point.

Not a sandy beach. It had these black round stones. I think it was still lava, but not the jagged kind.

The experienced vacationers were trying to figure out how to get out on the bay. I looked at it and thought it was very big and a whole lot scary.

When absolutely no way was found, we drove around the point to two-step. This was open water -- a lot like Cook's Bay. I started getting ready. Really, it was a determined, teeth-set, get a hold of your self moment. I put on the glaringly yellow vest, my mask and went to the steps. The rocks formed a two step ledge into the very deep water. This would be the first time that I would not be able to stand up if I got a bit freaked out.

Sandy was already in the water, Craig said he would follow me in. Sandy had a boogie board, and that is all I thought of. Get in the water, swim to the boogie board, and don't let go. Sandy was my buddy for most of the swim. But eventually she had had enough of me bumping the board into her, and she transferred the board over to me.

That meant I was in water way over my head with just a mask and a boogie board. Craig saw the transfer and he swam over and became my buddy. This was the best swim for me so far.

The most fish that we saw on the whole trip were the yellow tangs. The biggest fish in these from the shore swims were the parrot fish. I got a few images from the web to share.

One of the more elusive fish was the coronet fish. They blended in with the water. The right angle really helped to spot these fish.

I was so excited to see these parrot fish. They were the largest fish I saw. I think Brad was disappointed to not see a shark. But I was relieved.

Craig and I saw the yellow trumpet fish only once, and only for a few seconds. I was very excited about this one.

The water was this clear, and this is kind of what the reef looked like. It was down deep (for me), and only a few fish swam anywhere close enough for me to think that I might be able to touch them. They were just teasing me, but I was enchanted.

After a while, the vest was more of a nuisance than a help. I deflated it and then I took it off. It disappeared.  I think Brad took it away. It was just me, the boogie board, Craig and the ocean. It was magical.

We swam out looking for fish and then we noticed we were at the drop off. I was not brave enough to look over that, and then we headed back. Craig showed me how far out we were, and then I focused on getting back to the far away shore. He had to keep getting me back on track, I just started kicking. He tried hard to steer me, but we made it back.

I was awkward getting back up the two steps. Total strangers literally pulled me from the water and Craig pushed me out. I was exhilarated and exhausted -- but triumphant.

Monday

Monday I learned how to boogie board. I have no pictures. I was too busy getting all sandy and trying to make sure my suit was still covering me.



It was way fun. The surf churned up the sand, and that churned up sand got everywhere. Brad later called it "Sand in Your Crack Beach". Another day we were there, I saw a sign that said that this was the beach with the most spinal injuries. I am glad that we survived it twice.



Lunch and then we snorkeled again. I was very interested in getting some good practice in because Brad had booked us an open water snorkel trip. More on that to come.



The beach we chose was a little out of the way beach. We just pulled off the road and saw a local family there playing. We only saw one couple snorkeling. I spoke with them, and they said this was their favorite spot. Sounded good.



The water was murky. Too much sand on the bottom. I saw a few fish, but there were at least 9 turtles. I was able to swim with them a bit. They had plenty of room to avoid me and get away, but they seemed oblivious. I enjoyed it and practiced snorkeling without my bright yellow life vest. This time Craig stayed close, but I didn't hold his hand. Obviously I was growing up fast in the snorkeling world.



There is a picture of us girls standing by a turtle in the water and making the turtle sign. I think it was from this beach. But the picture will live here in my blog. :)

I know this picture is not centered well, but you can see the turtle (who looks like a rock) and us girls laughing. Poor Kris is partially cut out.