Lift Where You Stand

As most of you know my coming to Germany had a large part to do with some very wonderful school opportunities, but always in the background I've had the feeling that while here I would also have the opportunity to learn some gospel truths.

Its exactly a month since I left, and as I was winding down for the day I was puzzling over all that's happened in these short but seemingly full weeks a conference talk came into mind that I'd heard once. I can't recall the name of the talk, nor the speaker, but I do remember clearly the phrase "Lift Where You Stand." coming clear in word and meaning from across the pulpit.

Often, in a society where much knowledge is present, we as humans tend to focus so much more on sharing what we know, and as consequence to our mortal limits lose focus on doing what we should. The balance is hard to find, and I as often as not, tend to end up on the wrong side of the focus as well. But as I recalled that phrase, two examples came to mind of events that conspired in the last week that I was privileged to observe.

The first took place Thursday evening after the weekly Institute lesson, during dinner. Many of you may already know this, and many of you might not, but for those in Europe of the young single adult age, we do not have Singles Wards or Firesides or Linger Longers. Most of us don't even live in the same stake, let alone the same town. But one of the greatest blessings we've been able to have is the Institute Centers, which are run, voluntarily generally by Senior Missionaries, or Members (Most of which are not young). And due to the distances traveled by many of Young Single Adults every week after institute a dinner is held, (Matt 15:32).

These facts may seem trivial and a digression, but please bear with me. They have a point. And that is every week Sister Ybarra (a lovely old woman who you want to just hug as tight as you can, but you're scared too because you may snap her in half), calmly prepares a meal capable of rivaling most Thanksgiving tables, (usually missing out on the lesson), sets the tables, waits for everyone to be served, and quietly cleans up afterwards. Without saying so much as word. Honestly.. I'm sure she finds great pleasure in the work, but on last thursday we had lasagna on the menu, and it was clear by the 4 or 5 lasagna pans that were now lying empty on the serving table, that Sister Ybarra would very likely be washing dishes well into the night. I was just noticing this, when I saw a man, who of a generally quiet nature, got up, walked over to the table, and gathered the pans into his hands and walked into the kitchen.

Maybe it was the spirit, maybe it was guilt, maybe it was both, but I too got up and joined him. We didn't get much done. Just scrubbed, and dried the lasagna pans, before we were pulled aside to help with something else.

Between the two of us the whole deed took probably less time than its taken to read this anecdote, and honestly the whole thing was forgotten soon after.

That is until yesterday, when Sister Ybarra stopped me in the foyer, looked at me with a smile, and just said "Thank you." in a voice that clearly meant it. I don't know if it was the dishes she was thanking me for, or if it was for noticing her and stopping to help. Probably doesn't matter in the end, but thank goodness for that quiet observant man.

The other story, while much shorter, and maybe not as impressionable, is one that is just good. As many of you may know, I'm in possession of one very ragged, and worn sweater vest. Many of you have often stuck your fingers in the holes and said with all the deduction of Sherlock Holmes.. "There's a hole in your vest." To which I generally smile, and say "Yep". I really don't know why I like this particular sweater vest. In fact... I generally dislike vests and sweaters all together, let alone a combination of the two in argyle brown. But when I wear it I feel good, and so like a tattered comfort blanket I carry it from continent to continent. Well as you might've guessed... as this story was taking place. I was wearing it. And once again, a very observant friend of mine said. "You have a hole in your vest." To which I said.. "Yep, a couple actually" and I pointed out a few more as I explained that this used to be my Dad's vest when he was my age, and that it's my favorite.

She smiled.

Then she pursed her lips in thought.

And in a very stern voice she said "Take it off."

At first I thought I hadn't heard her right. But she repeated herself, and motioned for me to take it off. Still somewhat confused, I obliged her, thinking maybe she wanted to get a better look at the holes, and handed it over.

She held it up. Looked at. Pursed her lips in thought again. And then rolled it up and stuffed it into her purse.

"I'm going to fix it." she said "I'm not very good at sewing, but I think I can take care of those holes." And before I could nod, she turned back to her scriptures ending any argument.

It was so simple. She saw a need. She thought maybe she could do something about it. And acted upon that impulse.

The admonition to "Lift Where You Stand" is a wonderful teaching, but anyone who's attempted to eat the core of an apple knows... fruits taste much better than seeds.