Joyce is a mother, wife, sister, school teacher, Bulgarian speaker, conservative, lover of good music, social media junky and a two time culinary arts Grand Champion bread baker. She and the family reside in a remote mountain community where great discoveries have been made. When not changing the world, she enjoys the occasional bowl of chips and salsa. She can be found at: http://pinterest.com/TheAtomicMom
Today is the 177th anniversary of the Martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum. Four years ago I wrote about the martyrdom here on the blog, click HERE.
From Doctrine & Covenants 135:
Announcement of the martyrdom of Joseph Smith the Prophet and his brother, Hyrum Smith the Patriarch, at Carthage, Illinois, June 27, 1844. This document was included at the end of the 1844 edition of the Doctrine and Covenants, which was nearly ready for publication when Joseph and Hyrum Smith were murdered.
1 To seal the testimony of this book and the Book of Mormon, we announce the martyrdom of Joseph Smith the Prophet, and Hyrum Smith the Patriarch. They were shot in Carthage jail, on the 27th of June, 1844, about five o’clock p.m., by an armed mob—painted black—of from 150 to 200 persons. Hyrum was shot first and fell calmly, exclaiming: I am a dead man! Joseph leaped from the window, and was shot dead in the attempt, exclaiming: O Lord my God! They were both shot after they were dead, in a brutal manner, and both received four balls.
I feel like in the 21st Century version of “the battle of the sexes” it’s become a “zero-sum game”. In order for women and girls to “win”, men have to lose and be ground down to pulp — smashing patriarchy, if you will. I absolutely hate this mindset. I. Hate. It. Life is limitless and opportunities are infinite. Nothing has to be zero sum game — especially when our husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons are concerned.
My dad was far from a perfect father. But he’s my dad and I love him. He took care his parents, two siblings, his mother-in-law, and my mom in the final years of their lives — giving his time and talents to make sure they had what they needed. He loves teaching Primary and makes sure to send post cards to all of the kids in his class from New Mexico when he comes to visit us. These days Dad has taken upon himself the great task to transcribe all of his father’s letters from WW2 and his mission. Grandpa was a writer and there are many volumes to work through. When he comes to visit us he brings an activity for each day — crafts, books, puzzles — my kids know they’re going to have fun with Grandpa around!
I love my grandfathers and my father-in-law, who raised my husband to be a good and faithful man. I love my Uncles, they’re also examples of good, righteous men, who loved me like their own kids. I love my husband and the man he is, and the example he is for our sons and daughter. We are trying to raise our sons to be Godly men, in a godless world. It’s not easy!
In church today the speaker spoke of being a father, and the verb “fathering”. There is great need in the world for both of these things. Fathers and men are important. Fathering is important too. I want to support and help the men in my life to be the best they can be, to help them reach their potential, and to help them fill their divine rolls as fathers, mentors, providers, and priesthood holders — so they can in turn bless the lives of others.
Happy Father’s Day men! Your work, your efforts, your service is appreciated, and needed … press on!
Recently I had a conversation with someone from church. This person remarked that so many families in our ward were struggling with the pressures of life under Covid. I responded, yes, it’s been hard for our family too. This person was shocked. “Your family is having a hard time with all of this?” Um, yes we are?!?! Everyone is. “But you guys are so strong!” Maybe we’re strong, and maybe we’re not, but we’re just really good at putting our party face on and not spilling our beans all over social media (because let’s face it, your social feeds are already too dramatic and you don’t want my drama too). But yes, our family has had its problems over this Covid year, and I have often thought sometimes “the one” is hiding right there in the middle of the ninety-and-nine.
The other day I ran into an old friend in the grocery store, whom I had not seen since before Covid started. She reached out and grabbed me and just hugged me tight. Normally, I’m not a hugger. I don’t even like hugging family or close friends. But this was different. I realized in that embrace how much I have missed people — and this is a lot coming from me, as I’m usually fine to do things on my own. I miss people, in person. Of course I’m thankful for the technology that let me get my temple recommend renewed from the comfort of my living room and I’m thankful we have the vast Church media network that has allowed us to stay connected to our leadership. I’m even thankful for social media, as horrid as it can be sometimes, that lets us keep in contact with each other. But I miss seeing faces, hearing belly laughs, and reaching out to grab on to people.
I was asked to speak in my ward on Sunday for Mother’s Day. I actually like pubic speaking and enjoy preparing talks. However, this talk was particularly hard to write. All week I felt the pressure to be perfect and to give a perfect talk or risk offending someone in the ward. Throw in some social media drama (not of my making) and I was on my way to a nervous breakdown by Saturday night. I prayed a lot to try and find some peace and I had a break through on what to talk about and how to say it. “Just testify of the gospel and share your testimony for the uplifting of the sisters in your ward who are struggling with heavy burdens.”