<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613</id><updated>2011-10-07T14:48:16.410-10:00</updated><category term='talents'/><category term='Sermons from nature'/><category term='gifts of the spirit'/><title type='text'>Hold to the rod-Walk in the light</title><subtitle type='html'>For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.

                                          2 Nephi 25:23</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-7136416173308275730</id><published>2011-07-10T07:46:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T08:00:18.250-10:00</updated><title type='text'>We do not doubt our mothers knew it.</title><content type='html'>A familiar story in the Book of Mormon tells of 2000 young men who were willing to go to war to protect the freedom of their families. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now they never had fought, yet they did not fear death; and they did think more upon the liberty of their fathers than they did upon their lives; yea, they had been taught by their mothers, that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them. And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers saying, We do not doubt our mothers knew it. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alma 56:47-48&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today on ABC's &lt;em&gt;This Week&lt;/em&gt;, Christine Lagarde, the new head of the IMF, said an interesting thing about her personal code of ethics. "You know, in the back of my mind, when it comes to ethics and whatever I do, I always think to myself, would my mother approve of that. And if she did not, then there's something wrong. I think it's a very -- it's a basic, stupid principle, maybe, to have. But it's something quite handy and quite efficient, if you think of it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooray for mothers who set a worthy course, and hooray for children who will follow it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-7136416173308275730?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/7136416173308275730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=7136416173308275730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/7136416173308275730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/7136416173308275730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2011/07/we-do-not-doubt-our-mothers-knew-it.html' title='We do not doubt our mothers knew it.'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-8880919794674750266</id><published>2011-01-02T21:36:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T22:13:34.138-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Lift up thy heart and rejoice</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;For my soul delighted in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads. Wherefore, lift up thy heart and rejoice, and cleave unto the covenants which thou hast made. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Doctrine and Covenants 25:12-13&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always loved this scripture, and I love to sing. Lately, I haven't been able to sing as I could in the past. This has been a trial to me, and I have missed being able to sing praises with enthusiasm in church and in choir. When I can sing at all, I can only sing quite softly. I can usually sing the opening hymn at church, but sometimes my voice gives out before the end of even that song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in church, I sang the first verse of the opening hymn with little difficulty, but by the second verse, I was struggling. My heart was touched as I croaked through the words "There is music in my soul today, a carol to my king, and Jesus listening can hear the songs I cannot sing." It reminded me of a Sunday when no music would come out of my throat so I just mouthed the words. In my heart I felt the same devotion that I feel when I vocalize, and I was richly rewarded for my effort to participate with the congregation. I felt the spirit testify of the truths I was singing silently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a comfort to my heart to know that when I can't sing, Jesus will listen to the song in my heart. Whether the inability to sing is physical or brought about by joy, or pain, that is too much to express, I know that Jesus listens. He knows our hearts, and he cares about what we are feeling. Wherefore, lift up thy heart and rejoice, and cleave unto the covenants which thou hast made!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-8880919794674750266?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/8880919794674750266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=8880919794674750266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/8880919794674750266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/8880919794674750266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2011/01/lift-up-thy-heart-and-rejoice.html' title='Lift up thy heart and rejoice'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-871718059000817988</id><published>2010-05-26T22:09:00.006-10:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T22:03:39.628-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Ask and it shall be given</title><content type='html'>The other day some kids came by fundraising to go to the History Day Nationals in Washington, D. C. After they left I got thinking about all the projects that our kids did over the years. I remembered the late nights, working with them, cheering them on, being proud of them, being disappointed with them. That's what being a parent is all about--wanting your children to do well and doing all you can to help them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about Heavenly Father and realized that he feels that way about us. He wants us to succeed and wants to give us everything we need and do everything he can to make sure that we do. I knew this to be true but wondered where to find it in the scriptures. Then, when reading the Book of Mormon, I found my answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or what man is there of you, who, if his son ask bread, will give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father who is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 Nephi 14:9-11, Matthew 7:9-11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-871718059000817988?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/871718059000817988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=871718059000817988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/871718059000817988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/871718059000817988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-would-have-gathered-you.html' title='Ask and it shall be given'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-1885717870232439692</id><published>2010-01-25T13:53:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T16:17:33.514-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Oil in your lamp</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;And at that day, when I come in my glory, shall the parable be fulfilled which I spake concerning the ten virgins. For they that are wise and have received the truth, and have taken the Holy Spirit for their guide, and have not been deceived--verily I say unto you, they shall not be hewn down and cast into the fire, but shall abide the day.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;                                                                                                             Doctrine and Covenants 45:56-57&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About five years ago this scripture made an impression on me as I read, and I felt that I had found a true treasure.  Here was an explanation of the parable of the ten virgins that was clear and simple.  Instead of the endless to-do lists generated in Sunday School class throughout my life, here was one thing I needed to do to have oil in my lamp--take the Holy Spirit for my guide.  I shared this message a few times in classes and with family, but no one else seemed to have the aha moment that I had enjoyed.  Now, five years later, I still love this scripture, and I'm working to let the spirit guide me more and more surely.  But I realize, too, that the to-do lists aren't incongruous with the spirit of the scripture.  All those good things people wanted me to do--pray, read the scriptures, keep the commandments, give service--are things that bring me closer to the spirit and help me follow the promptings that I receive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-1885717870232439692?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/1885717870232439692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=1885717870232439692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/1885717870232439692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/1885717870232439692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2010/01/oil-in-your-lamp.html' title='Oil in your lamp'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-5331936610082161120</id><published>2010-01-03T22:10:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T22:29:01.951-10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;And now, I would commend you to seek this Jesus of whom the apostles and prophets have written, that the grace of God the Father, and also the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost, which beareth record of them, may be and abide in you forever.  Amen.  Ether 12:41&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I gave a talk in church.  The topic that I was assigned was Coming to Know the Savior.  One of the things that I wanted to convey in my talk was that if we want to know the Savior, we have to actively seek him.  The Savior has said, "Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you; seek me diligently and ye shall find me; ask and ye shall receive; knock, and it shall be opened unto you."  Doctrine and Covenants 88:63&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact of the matter is that we know the Savior.  We lived with him before coming to this earth.  He wants us to remember him and come unto to him.  He has said, "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me." Revelation 3:20&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How tenderly the Savior calls us and urges us to come unto him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-5331936610082161120?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/5331936610082161120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=5331936610082161120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/5331936610082161120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/5331936610082161120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-now-i-would-commend-you-to-seek.html' title=''/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-4143765507842302502</id><published>2009-12-31T20:48:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T21:04:00.023-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Essential, Necessary, Nice</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength.  And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.  Mosiah 4:27&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently we heard Julie Beck, the president of the general Relief Society speak at a fireside.  She did a question and answer session in which someone asked her about setting priorities.  She said that she likes to categorize the tasks for her day as being essential, necessary or nice.   The essential things are the things that help her gain salvation, the necessary things sustain life and the nice things are, well, nice.  This is not a new idea, but somehow the labels essential, necessary and nice brought clarity to me.  Most of the things that I enjoy doing are nice, and I'm fairly good at getting the necessary things done.  I'm beginning to ponder more what is essential and to answer the question, what essential things should I do today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-4143765507842302502?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/4143765507842302502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=4143765507842302502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/4143765507842302502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/4143765507842302502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2009/12/essential-necessary-nice.html' title='Essential, Necessary, Nice'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-2319770686698587271</id><published>2009-12-13T10:16:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T10:21:09.663-10:00</updated><title type='text'>A Very Short Parable</title><content type='html'>Once there was a woman making a quilt.  After hours of work she realized that it is the tangled thread, knots and misplaced stitches that make quilting take such a long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-2319770686698587271?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/2319770686698587271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=2319770686698587271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/2319770686698587271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/2319770686698587271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2009/12/very-short-parable.html' title='A Very Short Parable'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-6024296429017261092</id><published>2009-12-06T10:38:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T10:53:09.111-10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is heaven.  Matthew 7:21 and 3 Nephi 14:21&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My two-year-old grandson has learned the mighty word no.  With his sweet little "No Daddy," he would choose not to have his diaper changed or get dressed in the morning or put away his toys.  Sometimes he's very sure of his two-year-old view of the world.  "This is a called a donkey."  "No Mommy, it's an animal." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I decided that I am a spiritual two-year-old.  I don't exactly say no to Heavenly Father, but I don't always listen very well, either.  I'm sure I miss opportunities to do good because I trust my own timetable instead of quickly heeding the promptings of the spirit.  And I know I sometimes cling to my own ideas thus robbing myself of the chance to grow and learn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-6024296429017261092?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/6024296429017261092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=6024296429017261092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/6024296429017261092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/6024296429017261092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2009/12/not-every-one-that-saith-unto-me-lord.html' title=''/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-7230695788210237365</id><published>2009-12-02T07:03:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T07:33:12.738-10:00</updated><title type='text'>I will not forget thee</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the fruit of her womb?  yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Behold, I have graven thee on the palms of my hands...  Isaiah 49:15-16 and 1 Nephi 21:15:16&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard this scripture this morning and thought of the Savior's wounded hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-7230695788210237365?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/7230695788210237365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=7230695788210237365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/7230695788210237365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/7230695788210237365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-will-not-forget-thee.html' title='I will not forget thee'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-6016008823377579988</id><published>2008-10-10T14:32:00.004-10:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T21:16:31.045-10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sermons from nature'/><title type='text'>Weeds and watering</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Although we didn't know it when we bought our house, part of our yard was underneath the street.  When our town decided to change our intersection, we got that part of our yard back.  We were thrilled to find out that our yard was bigger than we thought, but the new part of the yard was, to say the least, not fertile ground.  Because there were other projects being done in our community at the same time, we were able to get some free dirt to cover what had been a roadbed and to try to make it into a place where plants could grow.  Along with the free dirt, we got a lot of free weeds!  We built a wall on our property line, and inside the wall we've labored endlessly to keep the weeds down and gingers are now thriving there.  Outside the wall, we dug out some of the weeds and over time a hardy grass that doesn't need care besides mowing has filled in.  A few months ago we planted some decorative plants around the stop sign on our corner to discourage the neighbors from burning the stop sign on New Year's and the 4th of July by hanging firecracker strings on it.  The plants haven't done all that well even though we've watered them fairly regularly, but what has thrived is those weeds.  We hadn't seen much of them while they were having to rely on rainwater, but given regular watering, they've sprouted up again strong and hardy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life seems like that sometimes.  You work pretty hard to get rid of a little character trait that you don't like, and you think you've done a decent job of it.  But then circumstances change and you find that little trait flourishing again.   That's why King Benjamin counseled that we must put off the natural man.  We can't just cut off the weed or even pull out most of it.  We have to get rid of all its roots and seeds as well.  The constant care that it takes to keep my life free from weeds can be tiring and discouraging, but I don't have to do it alone.  If I will let the Savior be the gardener of my soul, he'll help me weed out the bad, and he'll strengthen the good in me.  He'll make me what he needs me to be if I will yield to his guiding hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yeilds to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.  Mosiah 3:19&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-6016008823377579988?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/6016008823377579988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=6016008823377579988' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/6016008823377579988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/6016008823377579988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2008/10/weeds-and-watering.html' title='Weeds and watering'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-8520398510235653562</id><published>2008-10-04T13:36:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T14:08:14.021-10:00</updated><title type='text'>This do in remembrance of me</title><content type='html'>On a recent Sunday I learned how softly the spirit speaks.  It was during the sacrament.  As I lifted the sacrament cup to my lips and swallowed that tiny sip of water, a feeling of sacredness settled on my heart.  I sensed in a way that I never have before how profound this simple act of remembering the Savior and his suffering is.   I often feel the promptings of the spirit as I contemplate during the sacrament.  I learn what I need to do in the coming week to improve and grow.  This time it was more subtle, barely an impression, an invitation to ponder and seek more meaning in an act that I've repeated nearly every week of my life, a call to remember him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when he had given thanks, he brake &lt;i&gt;it,&lt;/i&gt; and said, Take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; me.   After &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; same manner also &lt;i&gt;he took&lt;/i&gt; &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;new&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;testament&lt;/span&gt; in my &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;blood&lt;/span&gt;: this do ye, as oft as ye drink &lt;i&gt;it,&lt;/i&gt; in remembrance &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; me. 1 Corinthians 11:24-15 &lt;div class="hilite"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-8520398510235653562?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/8520398510235653562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=8520398510235653562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/8520398510235653562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/8520398510235653562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-do-in-remembrance-of-me.html' title='This do in remembrance of me'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-7732595013781686801</id><published>2008-08-27T16:22:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T16:34:41.950-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Scatter Sunshine</title><content type='html'>In a world where sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Ever will be known,&lt;br /&gt;Where are found the needy&lt;br /&gt;And the sad and lone,&lt;br /&gt;How much joy and comfort&lt;br /&gt;You can all bestow,&lt;br /&gt;If you scatter sunshine&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hymn text by Lanta Wilson Smith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father passed away on August 4th, and I am sad.  This morning this hymn came to my mind, and as I pondered its message, I heard  a little voice say, "Hi!"  I turned to see who had spoken and found that it was a toddler being pushed in a stroller by his mother.  I said, "Hi," smiling, and he said some more toddler words to me.  I then had a very pleasant conversation with his mom about how cute he was and how much he sounded like my grandson, and we both left smiling.  Scattering sunshine can't help but make the sun shine on you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.  James 1:27&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-7732595013781686801?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/7732595013781686801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=7732595013781686801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/7732595013781686801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/7732595013781686801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2008/08/scatter-sunshine.html' title='Scatter Sunshine'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-694677018352020061</id><published>2008-06-09T09:49:00.004-10:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T10:25:14.887-10:00</updated><title type='text'>He knows my name</title><content type='html'>Once day when Dale and I were working together in the yard, I was pulling weeds out of some of our potted plants.  I felt frustrated by how many there were--pretty much all the same kind--and by how they were everywhere.  I said, "Oh, I wish we had never gotten this plant into our yard!"  Dale, not realizing that I was talking about the weed, was kind of stunned, and said something to the effect that if I didn't like it we could get rid of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only we could have just gotten rid of that weed!  I still have to pull it out of the pots regularly to keep it from taking over.  The other day as I once again tackled the weed, I remembered our conversation of the past and felt amused and a little sad.  It's so easy to miscommunicate and misinterpret. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful that when I pray Heavenly Father hears my words and also knows the intent of my heart.  He knows what I need before I even ask.  He knows my name, and he listens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the &lt;span class="smallcaps"&gt;Lord&lt;/span&gt; said unto Moses, I will do this thing also that thou hast spoken: for thou hast found grace in my sight, and I &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; thee by &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;name&lt;/span&gt;.    Exodus 33:17&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-694677018352020061?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/694677018352020061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=694677018352020061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/694677018352020061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/694677018352020061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2008/06/he-knows-my-name.html' title='He knows my name'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-6286057617083590865</id><published>2008-05-07T19:05:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T21:49:02.819-10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='talents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gifts of the spirit'/><title type='text'>Gifts</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, a very talented musician in our ward asked me to turn pages for her while she accompanied a song we were practicing in Relief Society.  I felt a little nervous about doing it because I didn't want to turn the page too soon or too late and cause her a problem, but it turned out to be a wonderful experience for me.  I had been practicing the piece because I was supposed to accompany it, but then found out that I was going to be gone on the week that the sisters were singing in Sacrament meeting.  So I was aware of how much she was making things up as she went along.  Everything sounded good, and most people wouldn't have realized that she wasn't playing the music exactly as written.  I felt my esteem for this woman deepen as we sat on that piano bench together.  But what was even more important was that I realized that although I don't have the gift that she has of being able to improvise at the keyboard, I do have gifts.  My task is to learn to share them with as much confidence and generosity as she shares hers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all these &lt;span class="searchword"&gt;gifts&lt;/span&gt; come by the Spirit of Christ; and they come unto every man severally, according as he will.  Moroni 10:17&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-6286057617083590865?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/6286057617083590865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=6286057617083590865' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/6286057617083590865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/6286057617083590865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2008/05/gifts.html' title='Gifts'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-457672495953478613.post-975693330563767192</id><published>2008-05-02T09:06:00.005-10:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T13:26:07.989-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Iron rod or liahona</title><content type='html'>In the Book of Mormon, the iron rod represents the word of God.  The liahona is a tool that the Book of Mormon people used to direct their travels in the wilderness.  Through the liahona, God gave them instructions to help them along their way.  Sometimes people compare and contrast these two images and use them as metaphors for the way that people interact with God today.  Iron rods are people who like to go by the book, and liahonas are people who work by inspiration.  But I see both of these methods as necessary in our effort to stay on the path in life that will lead us home to our Heavenly Father.  The word of God as contained in the scriptures and as taught to us by our living prophet shows us the way and gives us a true direction.  Inspiration that comes to us personally through the whisperings of the Holy Ghost nudges us back onto that true path when we start to go astray.  I've created this blog to record some of my experiences and reflections about the power of both the word and the spirit in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/457672495953478613-975693330563767192?l=lindarobertson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/feeds/975693330563767192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=457672495953478613&amp;postID=975693330563767192' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/975693330563767192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/457672495953478613/posts/default/975693330563767192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lindarobertson.blogspot.com/2008/05/iron-rod-or-liahona.html' title='Iron rod or liahona'/><author><name>Linda Robertson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04722392485144534840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JdRDGnpxPyU/Sh_pCzkTSQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fV36HqV_Des/S220/Grinda.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
