Monday, September 22, 2014

BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM

Each leaf represents from my tree of life,

Experiences that has Inspired me to gain a more perfect knowledge what it means “Be Still”
I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to
cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”
Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian Army. I had made rather rapid progress as far as promotions are concerned, and I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian Army. And I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. There was just one man between me and that which for ten years I had hoped to get, the office of general in the British Army. I swelled up with pride. And this one man became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner in charge of all Canadian forces. I called in my valet, my personal servant. I told him to polish my buttons, to brush my hat and my boots, and to make me look like a general because that is what I was going to be. He did the best he could with what he had to work on, and I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the General, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer. Someone else will be made a general.” That for which I had been hoping and praying for ten years suddenly slipped out of my fingers
He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly. I saluted out of duty and went out. I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. And every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure. You will be called a coward when you get home. I knew what I was going to get, and when I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.   And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness.                                                                                                                                                                                               This is is a true story told by a man who became a  general authority of the LDS Church and was an awesome influence on all who came in contact with him. The original story was told by was Hugh B. Brown. A man of great faith.
In a documentary I recently viewed titled “An Unreal Dream – The Michael Morton Story “.  About a man who was accused of murdering his wife in front of his little 3 year old boy.  The father at that time was only 32 years old. A young man still in his prime.  He went to trial because of poor investigation of the murder by the prosecuting attorney, and withholding key evidence, they wanting a quick conviction, the jury found him guilty and was sentenced to the state penitentiary for life.   He never had time to mourn his wife’s death and was still numb with shock when he found himself living in prison in Texas. He was thrown in with harden criminals that were hard as nails, convicted of every possible crime.  As the years went by and all the possible appeals were denied, he became harden and bitter because of the injustice he was dealing with.  His young son would come and visit about every 6 months,
until the son felt he had no connection to this man, no real memories except the visits he was arranged to see.  When the son became about 17 years old he went to see his father and announce he wanted to change his last name to the Aunt’s he had been living with.   This was the final  hurt he could handle and was near collapse with pain.  For the very first time he knelt in prayer and called out to God for relief.  He never had any kind of sensation during and after the prayer, and felt there was no God, God was a myth!.  About a week later while reading before lights were out, he saw this glow and light that filled his space.  He was completely engulfed with the warmth and love that radiated from this light. Never ever having had this kind of sensation before he allowed himself to envelop in the glow of this awesome experience.  Upon waking the next morning, the book he was reading was put on the shelf, not remembering having put it there, the night light was out, not remembering turning it off. He then realized with a surety it was God who made that visit, and he also knew that God was for real and not a myth, that He loved him. This visit transformed his life, he knew then he could endure anything, because he has leaned what he had come to earth for, to learn of God, to know he was real and he was loved. Circumstances would soon change for the best. There was a last appeal, by
different lawyers and DNA testing.  He won the appeal and was released from prison and the real murder was found and prosecuted.  He did not come out of prison a bitter and broken man; he had been transformed into a kind and generous human being, making it his goal to help others in prison who were innocent and found guilty of a severe crime.  He had spent 25 years behind bars for something he didn’t do.                                                                     Psalm 37:5
Be Still and Know That I Am God
                                  In times of deepest trial, I plead to find relief                                                   On bended knee I seek thee and pray I may find peace
 And in that darkest hour  comes the solace I have sought,
 I hear the faintest whisper
"Be still, and know that I am God"

I raise my eyes to heaven, I feel they presence near
And know that one who loves me  Has heard my searching
prayer.  Thy gentle voice reminds me life's battles must
be fought. 
I hear thee now more clearly
"Be Still and Know that I am God"
Words and Music by Janice Kapp Perry