Bass Lake

Bass Lake Triathlon 2011

BASS LAKE

For fifty years our family has met every year at Bass Lake for a family reunion…there are now close to 150 people that come every year – we camp in tents all together in a huge campsite next to the lake. There is magic everywhere…a missionary fireside where returning and outgoing missionaries report…a devotional every night…talent night…family dance night….game night…song night….a family triathlon….trips up the falls and to Yosemite…. “noodlesizing” for all the aunts….diving off cliffs….every kind of boating craziness imaginable….

...but all of that is nothing compared to the real magic….it underlies it all and has great hidden powers….what happens to the cousins, as you watch them together…..that is where it is…..they bond in every way imaginable….during all their antics…but all through the week, they talk….around the campfire when most people are in bed…on Sunday…when no one is allowed to do any water play…we all go to the local church together…then lay around on blankets all day – just talking….reading scriptures… having a special Sabbath fireside with hymns and

devotionals…..the cousins all squish together in a big mass across the sleeping bags where they all sleep together near the lake….and they each become empowered as they share together all that they are… and testimonies are naturally borne in so many undetectable ways…. The cousins know all about what happens….because they have seen what it has done over the years for them…they call it “Cousin Power” …and they talk about needing to get to Bass Lake to get the cousin power back in their life…they all go away fortified from the examples and strengths that they each have….because there are so many and they are all strong in some ways and weaker in others….the sharing makes it so they go away strong and healthy spiritually, ready to take on the new year…. And they never want to disappoint each other… they call each other on anything they think needs correcting…modesty…speech….ideas…. and it all seems to get figured out by the time they are finished with each other at the end of the week…it is like this flow of endless love swarming them the whole time they are together…and my very favorite thing about the whole experience is when I look over at the huge spread of cousins in sleeping bags, all squished together at night….and I see all these little tiny lights all throughout the area they are settled in for the night….they each have a flashlight on and they are reading their scriptures before they go to bed… imagine the effect of all those young people…watching each other do this….even my youngest, when he was two, was thrown in with the group…all ages are there….all those lights…..it makes my heart sing..and in the morning they are tromping all over their books and lights and it is all big mess.. but just seeing all those Book of Mormons getting “camped on” makes me so happy…..

I once came into my camping area really late at night after everyone was asleep – even the cousins…and there was one of my nephews, at my table, reading his scriptures….so beautiful…..and I noticed this one nephew…would always wait until everyone would leave the campfire….and then he would stay with this one cousin who needed help spiritually – it seemed like everyone, one by one, just went to bed and they just happened to be the only ones left..but I knew what this nephew was doing…. And I told him that I noticed…. And he told me of his concern for her…. things like this…. Part of that underground magic….I don’t believe any other type of reunion can accomplish what camping all together does…not even in separate campsites…can accomplish this …if you have hotel rooms – you separate and come together here and there…. And when you are camping….and it has to be in tents…what happens is-- no one wants to stay in a tent all day…so everyone is out all the time…and so you are together all the time…wandering between each others lives…constantly….it is so beautiful….I am so grateful for this tradition and for what “Cousin Power” has done for my children….I know we don’t always like to deal with statistics when we talk about the power of love and tradition….but out of the 39 grandchildren that my parents have….every young man and most of the young women served missions… all that are married have married in the temple…. all have stayed true to the Lord…..in my Mother’s patriarchal blessing it said that the work she would do on the earth for her posterity would be monumental….I see her 39 grandchildren as that monument….and I know Cousin Power helped create that monument.

Who's Child is This?

My Daughter Cubbie

WHO’S CHILD IS THIS?
When I was a new, young mother, I listened to all my friends’ advice and read every book I could find about how to raise a child. My mind was so filled with what other people had to say, that I lost confidence in myself and felt paralyzed. I went to my husband with my dilemma and he asked me who it was that the Lord gave this child to. He said, “He didn’t give your child to Connie or Beth or Susan…He gave this child to you…so he trusts you, not them, to be able to mother your child.” I felt the spirit confirm that the words he spoke were true and something happened inside me at that moment…freedom! …I felt free to explore my own heart, mind and soul for the answers to how to raise my child. Since each child is so unique, it has been a blessing to realize that you can trust what you feel inside, as the source to determine the right thing for your child ….. the Lord gave the child to you….he trusts YOU to raise this child.

How Does She Know

HOW DOES SHE KNOW

How does she know when to rock through the night

Somehow aware of a fear or a fright

Nothing is seen, nothing is heard

But deep within a mother heart stirred

How does she know when a new babe is born

The melting of souls is what creates the adorn

That beholding the glow from God’s new design

Will brighten the recall in remembrance divine

How does she know that her shoulder would shield

Innocent eyes as the world around reeled

A place for retreat from images new

Wondering becomes learning…why the sky’s blue

How does she know music’s soft waves

While holding her babe, will quell the raves

The motion in dancing with music combined

Will calm troubled waters and sweet respite find

How does she know revealing the sea

To a young child’s mind will bring ultimate glee

That splashing and laughing in white swirling foam

Will cause a young heart feel closer to Home

How does she know when a child cuts a finger

Her outpouring of love is all that will linger

That patching a hurt is such a small part

In the healing of tears and a broken heart

How does she know that the breaking and crashing

Are just “signs of life” of playful child dashing

Full speed ahead, wrestling and racing

Young ones all struggling to keep with the pacing

How does she know the ache of no-bearing

After full, fruitful years will not faze the caring

The eternal deep yearning of a mother heart

Though bound by mortality will never part

How does she know soft melodies at night

Will melt away worry, setting all aright

That stroking soft hair will calm all the fears

Bringing blessed sleep that will quiet the tears

How does she know that painting with butter

swimming in milk or blasting through shutters

walking in honey, flinging applesauce on walls

Is bright curiosity that will help them grow tall

How does she know the child is God’s gift

That within her breathes all that’s required to lift

The pathway to Home written in both their souls

A sacred imprint….through ages rolls

She knows because deep within her lies

A sacred trust with divine ties

A preexistent promise made long ago

Emblazoned bright quest, burned into her soul.

Written by Karen Nelson

Who Has the History?

My Grandchildren

WHO HAS THE HISTORY?

When a parent makes a decision for a child, or counsels a child, they are coming to that moment with HUGE history behind them. They have been with their child since the time they were born, watched them all throughout their life… loved them, cried over them, laughed with them, spent time with them, prayed over them, dealt with them, worked with them….. there is absolutely no one else on earth in a better position than they are, to make a decision or give guidance… We should trust parental guidance and decision… the yearning and praying and love cannot be measured … and it all comes into play at the moment of decision and counsel...

Sammy and Luke

INVISIBLE STARS

To illustrate why “Who has the history?” works….a while ago, while on vacation with two daughters, my son-in-law, my three grandchildren and my ten-year-old son – I decided to take the four little boys to the park – as soon as we left the hotel room I heard and saw explosive signs of physical and emotional distress…. Another way of saying this is – loud screaming and enthusiastic fighting…..I stepped inside the room and told their parents that I had no idea what happened and no idea how to handle what happened….they immediately said, “Oh, he just stole his invisible stars.” The parents immediately knew what to do as their passion escalated…and we all tried to hide our laughter….I thought…imagine if I had tried to handle what happened…there is no way I would have ever guessed that one of the boys had stolen the other one’s invisible stars….but they knew immediately and knew immediately how to handle it….because they “had the history.”

Henry

There's Always a Story

THERE’S ALWAYS A STORY
Whenever you are quick to make a judgment about what someone is doing that you cannot figure out…remember… “there is always a story.” When you stop and find out what caused someone to do what they did, compassion replaces judgment and anger. I heard a story told by a religious leader in our church, that caused him to ponder the reality of this idea. He was in his car and accidentally bumped, barely, the backend of someone’s car. He was surprised when the man got out of his car and unleashed every foul word imaginable upon him. The next Sunday, he was also surprised to see this man in the congregation where he was about to give a talk. After the meeting, the man came up to apologize for his outrageous behavior.... and then continued to explain that at the time his car was bumped, he was just in the middle of trying to figure out how to tell his children, when he got home, that their mother had just died. When his car was bumped, it was the last straw for him, and therefore, the unleashing…… when the “story” was revealed behind the man’s actions, understanding and compassion replaced all the initial surprise. “There is always, always a story.” Take time to listen to it, first. God told us to leave all judgment to him….when I think about why he asked us to do this…I think of all the stories behind why I do things, my children do things…all people….and even if we try to figure out their stories, we really don’t know anyone’s “real” story….God alone knows our true history…letting go of judging from our limited perspective is so liberating… and realizing that we are all in the hands of God, thankfully, allows us to let go and love, just love, without judgment…and the stories of people’s lives can be allowed to be written more beautifully, with our love supporting them, without interference.

a philosophy of life

LIFE

Life is a choice. You can pull the blinds down and stay inside and hope nothing bad happens to you…. or you can open the blinds and go out and “live” your life. You can decide to not have children because something might cause them to be defective at birth, or because they may get in an accident, or because they may go astray and cause you and them heartache…….or….. you can jump in and love life….go through all the joys and trials life has to offer. “It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” is a true principle. Loving is winning. Choosing to live in fear is to not live at all. Run in the wind, don’t hide in the dark. With the Lord by your side while you are “living,” you will always end up in the light.

Through the Mirrors of Time

In honor of "all" the women in our lives, I wrote this poem...

THROUGH THE MIRRORS OF TIME

One early morning before day dawn break

And scarcely before completely awake

She found herself sitting arrayed all in white

In a sacred room filled with crystal light

She looked at the mirrors that brought time together

And basked in eternity – in her visual forever

And pondering upon all the souls gone and forward

She felt a deep stirring and knew she had heard

A voice that speaks soundless – the language of soul

That taught her of lives that exacted a toll

That all she was and would hope to be

Was brought through the mirror – the lives she could see

Of those who had struggled and cried and stretched

Whose brilliant life stories were carefully etched?

They came in bright glory, one by one

Women of light, the sung and unsung

Each precious story – each life profound

All built a foundation – pure and sound

For the next to come forward – for her day in the sun

For her day to laugh, cry – give birth and run

Run in the wind, splash in the waves

Warm by the fire – and earnestly pave

A new path to follow for wondering eyes

That search through the soul to determine the prize

What are the gifts she will bring - they ask

What are the treasures – to aid in the task

Of finding the way through the maze of life

That will take her through – both the joy and the strife

And each valiant woman who taught their heart

Taught them to choose the better part

To stand tall, full straight, not bent by life’s tears

Full of pure faith, not bent by the years

Becoming all they were destined to be

Opening hope for the each to see………………….

And then it all closed and the souls in mind’s light

All vanished and left her alone in the might

The might of the gift she was given through mirrors

That faced one another with her as the seer

She stood in the middle looking backward and forward

And blessed all the lives, now infinitely dearer

Of those who behind her stood strong in the wind

And those ahead – whose lives are not penned

The life they will write with music and song

With words that will then help others along

And then as she stood there – a truth stepped out forward

And planted its message without a word

Just knowledge – pure, precious, plain, penetrating

Suddenly, completely a part of her being

She knew the forever – of backward and forward

Were hers to own, to enjoy and to measure

She had the choice to honor the gifts

Of those from before – whose choices were lifts

From one to another….and now they held out

Their steady hands – banishing doubt

So with faith and trusting – she held their hands tight

And with the other, reached into the night

To pull those unborn through the curtain of light

And give of her gifts made golden and bright

Gifts of pure wisdom, gifts of pure faith

Gifts of the heart, gifts in clear lace

That only can come and go from a mirror

That faces another and brings loved ones nearer

And basking between forever and ever

She stood all amazed in a time-honored treasure

Packed solidly, firmly in the sinew of soul

That is shared through reflection as the ages roll.

Written by Karen Nelson