Chapter 10: Coveting

CHAPTER 10 - The Cycle of Coveting

 THOU SHALT NOT COVET

                                                Exodus 20:17

I have nearly 2000 “friends” on Facebook. This social media outlet has been both a blessing and a curse to me, (but mostly a blessing). It has allowed me to locate and catch up with people that crossed my life’s path in its various stages. It’s been fun to find former mission companions, old roommates, (and I mean OLD - Liz I’m talking to you) mentors and neighborhood pals that helped me build my life’s foundation. The problem with this kind of social journaling, however, is that while I am posting pictures of the latest play or wedding cake that I’ve created, a lot of my friends are posting pictures of their newest fresh-from-the-womb baby or grandchild #8 that has been created for all to see, even me. In my mind, towering chocolate fudge and buttercream pales in comparison. Still, the benefits of social journaling, for me, far outweigh flipping through (a few thousand) ultrasounds and baby pictures no matter how green with envy I get.

To combat the envy I try to post things I’m grateful for.

The opposite of coveting is gratitude, right? I sometimes think “Thou Shalt Have Gratitude” would have been a more positive spin on the tenth commandment. I used to wonder why coveting was such a big deal at all. We watched Cecille B. DeMille’s  The Ten Commandments every Easter when I was in Seminary and every year I would think, coveting seems like the one thing out of place on Moses’ list. What if I want something really bad? Shouldn’t I set goals and go after it? Hmmm...Totally different thing.

Coveting is the last commandment on the list. It’s a commandment not as easily projected as killing, or stealing, or honoring… We can hide it in our hearts. It eats us from the inside out. It’s impossible not to break this commandment. It turns contentment to bitterness. Peace to hostility. Value to worthlessness. Happiness to depression. Coveting is a commandment for a reason  - its takes love away.

We have gotten tickets to attend the "Parade of Homes" every year. For those of you that are reading this outside of the Utah a "Parade of Homes” s not like the kind of parade where you walk down the street or play in a marching band. This is put together by a group of home construction companies that build a house, have it furnished and decorated to the nines, and then open them up for people to come and tour them, like a museum. A museum where people live. Fancy, faaaancy people. This year there are 28 homes on the tour. We visited 19 of the 28. After that I had to stop, I was becoming sad and bitter. We actually sink into a depression of coveteousness that makes going to work (teaching other people's kids) sheer torture. Who owns those homes? Not teachers that's for sure. But a girl can dream...er...covet.

Why do we torture ourselves so?

One home on the parade had a 1950's diner inside of it. Another had a tub that received its water from a hole in the ceiling. There was a bedroom that had a glass-encased office on one end and on the other end was a wall that could be opened completely to the pool and yard. Almost like camping... at a Marriott executive hotel in Singapore.

My favorite thing was the shower that was like a car wash. There were at least eight shower heads coming out of various places in the volcano rock tiled walls. It lacked an automated chamois rub and wax. Shame. Disappointing.

Along the bathroom wall of one house were three or four tiled insets like permanent shadow boxes. There were about a foot square in size. One of the little holes contained a tiny little cactus, growing in a teeny, tiny fishbowl laid on its side in a bed of tiny purple pebbles. I did write "J + A" in the perfect pebble bed. It was just calling out to me. When I lived in Japan and people would rake their pebble yards, the temptation was too much. I left secret messages all over Japan.

There was a house with a glass stairs. G.L.A.S.S. stairs. I really thought twice about going down them but sucked my stomach in (like that would make me weigh less) and gingerly descended into a theatre room that sat about 30 people on leather loungers. I could have napped all afternoon and no one would have known.

There was a secret pantry in one home that could double as a fallout shelter, a circular dining room made of glass that overlooked the backyard pool and pool house, a house with 12-foot ceilings in the b.a.s.e.m.e.n.t.  Oh, and on house had a dining table made of hewn cherrywood that sat 24. 24! Give me that right now. I stood in front of that table for a full five minutes until I was wallowing “in full c.o.v.e.t.” We avoid the dining table at my house because it always feels as if someone is missing. I envisioned the banquets, the Thanksgiving dinners. Andy is lucky if he gets a grilled cheese with his tomato soup. The vision of having 24 people around a table made from the wood of a family tree...I’m emotional just thinking about it.

Speaking of wood stuff - in all the fancy homes there were little and big wooden signs painted to look antique that say “LIVE LOVE LAUGH” and “Just Because Two People Fell in Love,” and “This is Our Happy Place” and other truly covetous little sayings in a multitude of bedrooms for every kind of kid...you know what I’m talking about. Anyway, it was enough to make an infertile LDS couple completely bonkers with jealousy.

I don't deny them their American Dream. I'm all about the free enterprise system. I just want to know why I was so attracted to teaching school? I knew better! Having grown up with a dad that taught...did I think the paycheck would be different for me? He worked three jobs for decades to keep us alive. I went into this teaching thing with FULL knowledge that I would never own a home with glass stairs. D.U.H.

Truthfully I never thought I would teach or would teach for very long. I thought I would get married and all my troubles would be over. In New Rochelle... or Levittown or some (where that's green) musical theatre place like that. But not only did I become a teacher, but I also married one! DOUBLE D.U.H.

Our home is warm and comfortable. It holds a collection of furniture from that past 20 years of producing plays. But somehow it works -  it's sort of Broadway Bohemian, if you will. For example, there are three lamps in the living room, one we bought for Black Comedy, one for You Can't Take It With You and the last has a shade from Stage Door and a stem from The Miracle Worker. You get the idea. We have a master bedroom, an office and a craft room where we could have extra beds - but why? I'm always fine with my eclectic home, until I go through the extravagant Parade of Homes and we come home "Bitter At the World. Party of Two."

There is one thing in my house that I bought at the trendy home store, just for me. It is a wooden cutout that stands on a shelf next to the pictures of our two dogs. It is just as cheesy as any other antiqued wooden sign and it says "Bloom Where You're Planted." Deep breath.

At first, I rebelled against that trite cliche, thinking "I might as well have a house covered in mauve wallpaper." But, cliches are always born out of truth you know. I kept seeing the darn thing in craft stores when I was shopping for shows or in the Hobby Lobby ad. As if to say "THIS MESSAGE IS FOR YOU JAN!"

So after our last Parade of Homes in St. George, I walked into my little space again, limped around, and lamented my lot as usual. Old furniture, small townhome. No yard, the fridge door was actually tied shut because it was broken. If I'd only gone to law school we might have nice things. The steaming smell of covet wafting through the house. Then I dragged my eyes to the little wooden sign..."Bloom Where You're Planted."  Get yourself together, I thought. That dang fridge makes a mighty cold Diet Coke I thought. And that yard is mowed by someone else. I can put my feet up on the furniture and not even think about it twice. The best thing is, if there are guests staying at the Hunsaker Hotel, just give me one trash bag and the Swiffer and I'm feeling ready in minutes.

Our life is a Garden of Eden. It is a virtual FARM full of blooming...blooming high school kids that belong to other people. I don’t have to pay for their braces, or college or rehab...not even kidding about that last one. And we...we are going to be fine because we are great kid farmers.

Waiting on the Lord’s blessings, in the Lord’s time, is a sign of love and trust. Coveting is the absolute opposite. Anybody can go through the ordinances demanded of justice and mercy, but not everyone will wait, endure to the end, to see the payoff.

Think about the payoff. Who will be coveting then? Huh?

I think the world is glorious and lovely as can be

The birds and bees and blossoms bring sweet messages to me

I sing and sing and sing and sing a song of joy and love

I sing and sing and sing and sing my thanks to God above.

^[1]

Recipe for Chapter 10

Bloom Where You’re Planted Tomato Basil Soup

1 medium onion - diced

2 big carrots - diced

3 cloves chopped garlic

2 T butter

1 T olive oil

Black pepper to taste

1 pinch of cayenne pepper (or more if you like it spicier)

2 quarts of canned tomatoes - juice and all

2 cups chicken stock

½ cup fresh basil (more for garnish or you can leave it out if you want)

1 cup cream (or half & half)

1. Caramelize onion, carrot and garlic together in a deep soup pot with butter and oil
2. When the vegetables are brown and soft (about 10 minutes), stir in the tomatoes (juice and all) and stock
3. Let it simmer for about 30 minutes or until it has reduced to your liking
4. Let it cool slightly
5. Blend until silky smooth (I use a Magic Bullet blender)
6. Pour back in the pot and add cream and basil - heat thoroughly and serve with a grilled cheese sandwich for dipping!

Serves about 4 - but at our house it only serves 2 and then I take the rest to work the next day.

Chapter 10 Homework

Neal A. Maxwell said we should work on the righteous desires of our heart “relentlessly.

1. What are your righteous desires?

2. How are you working relentlessly on your righteous desires?

3. How can you decrease the gap, if you are not working on your righteous desires?

---

^[1] I Think the World is Glorious, Words: Anna Johnson, Music: Alexander Schreiner

Chapter 9: Bitterness

“Bitterness and love cannot live together in the same heart. Each day, we must decide which one gets to stay.” ~ Dave Willis

Loneliness’ BFF is bitterness. Bitterness results from promises that have been made and are seemingly forgotten. We’ve all read the scripture “For with God nothing shall be impossible”^[1] and so we want everything, right now...and especially if we are exercising our faith - shouldn't we be getting it? All of our righteous desires?

Between 2012 and 2014 I asked (and kept track of the answers) 218 of my God-believing friends/family “what kinds of things did you expect God to bless you with that you feel you had to wait for - or are still waiting for?” Here are a few of the common denominators. Some surprising, most not at all.

The biggest category was companionship and/or the lack of children.

●      “not being able to get pregnant”

●      “I felt like I had no value if I wasn’t going to be able to be a mom”

●      “true love that doesn’t get me ostracized from the church that I grew up in and love with all my heart”

●      “becoming a mother, infertility, failed adoption placements”

●      “Marriage, children…”

●      “After my mission I thought God owed me a husband.”

●      “A forever partner.”

●      “Children. Still waiting.”

●      “...to be able to have children.”

●      “True love.”

●      “A husband and children.”

●      “Someone to love and someone who will love me also.”

●      “I had done all the things, checked all the boxes, and expected to do the Mormon things and be pregnant on the wedding night and rear twelve gloriously perfect children. It was a rough road especially when teaching school and seeing all the mentally, physically and sexually abused children and knowing I would be a more responsible caretaker for His children. I took some time to realize my role was still to help raise and guide - it’s just most of the children I was helping weren’t going to come through me, but to me.”

Peace of mind/contentment was the next biggest category:

●      “Peace of mind.” (Repeated 5 times from five different people)

●      “Having more patience and peace of mind.”

●      “I thought life would be more peaceful, that if I worked hard, made good choices, that it would be smooth sailing. I have matured and understand things differently now. But I ask for peace a lot, I don’t ask anymore to understand.”

●      “Peace.”

●      “Contentment, joy, understanding.”

●      “I have learned that what I try to make my life’s plan might be pretty amazing but nothing compared to His plan for me. I just have to go with it and stop fighting.”

●      “The capacity to be content with His timing.”

Several answers gave me pause to ponder and I’m so grateful to those that opened their hearts to me. I thought gathering a list like this would be so hard! Knowing that everyone was struggling like I am helped me find new perspective.

Pause to ponder:

●      “to have the strength to get back up again and again and... again”.

●      “I know that I am blessed beyond measure , but I still insist on pulling out my self-made measuring stick to see how much my blessings don’t match my expectations.”

●      “I’ve learned not to expect anything of Him. God works through Humans. Humans are fickle and inconsistent and I just have to accept that. I can’t tell if that is a more healthy way to have a relationship (one without expectations I mean) or less healthy. But that’s what’s happened.”

●      “I guess all I really expect is that He will keep His promises and even then I know His timing isn’t my timing and extends into the next life. So I guess I don’t expect anything too specific, but I sure hope for a lot.”

●      “My mind works in a transactional way - I do the homework, you give me the grade. I do everything “right” and God blesses me with my righteous desires.” But you know better than I do this isn’t how it works. I’ve been working on my mindset and remembering that God  blesses me no matter what I do, say, etc. His blessings are perfect, no matter what I thought I was “supposed” to get.”

●      “I do not expect anything of Him except love.”

●      “I work to not play the “I’ll be happy when...” game. I’m choosing to be happy now, It’s a journey not an event.”

And my favorite answer:

●      “I just need a hug.”

It’s an interesting conundrum then. We work to bring about blessings that we need to feel whole, to feel like we are progressing, and when those blessings don’t come about we tend to blame God for “holding them back” from us. I don’t believe He holds anything back - but rather, we must wait for all of the circumstances to align before our blessings can align as well. Consequently, “Righteous desires need to be relentless”^[2], because, said President Brigham Young, “the men and women who desire to obtain seats in the celestial kingdom, will find that they must battle every day.”^[3] Nothing can be expected, just prayed for in faith.

My mission really solidified my belief system. Which is great, but then for six or seven years after I came home, I was looking for the next prophet to marry, but I was also working 65 hours a week....and let's face it, the pickin's got slimmer and slimmer. I might as well have made myself a sign: "marry me and become an instant set builder, lighting designer and father of 200." I did not make myself very available. I did not separate work from life at the time. Was I working relentlessly on my righteous desires? No.

But in my early 30's, my path crossed with someone that bought into the set building and the high school kids. He was an actor himself, what luck! He would GET me. We were great friends. We got engaged. I cut out a wedding dress. Pictures were taken. I thought things were finally going to work out. But...it didn't. He wasn't ready. Stunned silence. Ring flying. Doors slamming. Ceremonial invitation burning (thanks mom!). I reacted in typical scorned woman fashion and threw myself into a gall of unimaginable bitterness. F...O...R.....F...I...V...E......Y...E...A...R...S. 

I call this my Dark Ages. Those years were almost Gothic in tone and style really. It was this time in my life that I was figuring out who I was.  I didn’t do it in the teenage years like most people, I guess. For about a year after I had thrown that diamond back, I wasted time on hate. I became a person I didn’t like. I was scared to go into a grocery store for fear I would run into him. I became a kind of agoraphobic and I stuck to my school and bedroom. I buried myself in my work until I was a recluse. I ate every meal in my car. Then as time passed, too much time, I clung on to the idea that he might realize his mistake and return to me.

What I didn’t have the courage to do was to empty my heart of him. In 1997, I produced 8 plays. One every six weeks. No human should do that. At that point I had convinced myself that if he didn’t like me enough to marry me, there must be something very wrong with me…

…as I suspected.

I guess this is my warning: the bitterness of taking care of everything and everyone, eventually seeps into the cracks and crevices of your good survival attitude especially if NO ONE is taking care of you. Eventually, at least for me, depression sinks in and I didn’t take the time to deal with it. No one fought for my sanity not even me. I had no love for myself left because I let that event destroy my self-esteem.

I spent this season of my life wrestling with my conscience, my self-image, my natural man. I fought my religion, even my art was stale and canned. I fought everything and everyone that tried to tell me what I needed to do to be happy. I was so lonely and I could see my siblings little families taking off like wildfire which normally would make me so happy! But soon enough I had a dozen nieces and nephews and I was livid about it. Not with them, but with God. I built up a wall of bitterness that could be seen from the moon. I built a house to manifest my singular power. I thought that house would say “I can have anything a married couple has!”  But the house engulfed me in loneliness further magnifying what I didn’t have. No one was there to take out the trash but me. No one was there to get me an extra blanket if I was cold. No one was there to rub my feet after a 16 hour day...oh wait...no one does that now that I’m married. Well - can’t win ‘em all. I was in the pity pool up to my neck and about to go under.

My strategy was to simply ignore my pathetic life. I went back to school and got a Master’s Degree in directing to further prove my prowess as a single person and I thought it would help restart my creative juices. It might boost my self-worth at least. When I was finished, with a 4.0, I was a top candidate for a theatre position at BYU. In the final interview, I was summoned to the church office building in Salt Lake City for my final interview. It was a polite interview, more of the same questions and then…he asked me why I wasn’t married.

Gah! My heart stopped.

(This next part was a defining moment in my life and that’s why I include it.)

He said “We prefer to hire married women because we’ve had some trouble with our single faculty members…you understand.”  I did not, but I could assume some things based on his eye-rolling. He asked me if I was dating anyone and I was, sort of, dating a man I didn’t have romantic feelings for, but I sure liked him; I appreciated him. I had dated a lot of men but did not feel the Spirit push me to pursue any of them romantically. I wanted to say “Do you know what’s out there?” but decided against it.

He then explained to me “perhaps you have the mentality of the high school students you teach. Love isn’t about the bells and whistles. You can fall in love with anyone over time…” This poor man that had been asked to interview me…he didn’t know how bitter I was, and how I was about to run screaming out of his office and out of the church. My head was swimming and then the nail went shattering into the coffin: “Sister Shelton, are you a Lesbian?” For the record I didn’t scream and go running out of the church office building or the church. I held it together until I got to my car in the parking garage and then I cried for two hours before I could even raise my hand to turn the ignition. In hindsight I wish I’d have said to him “being a Lesbian might be easier” just to see the look on his face. But I didn’t.

And for FIVE MORE more years it just got darker and darker. 

As the years went on I told people “I don’t need a man to complete me.” The truth is, no man would have loved the incomplete mess I was At that time. (In hindsight and ironically, getting married didn’t solve the problem either. I still have the feeling that there are large chunks of happy missing in my life…only the category is different.)

Well, it took me nearly a decade to apply the old Buddhist adage “holding onto anger is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” I was positively poisonous when I turned 40. It was no wonder I was still single. I think I was addicted to bitterness at that point.

Then there was the day I lovingly call “black Sunday.” I saw a young family sitting on a church pew ahead of me with three little kids sandwiched between them. My heart leapt into my throat. I remained in my seat. I was determined to “grow up” and quit belly-aching about what I didn’t have and think about my blessings. I have always been blessed with a great amount of hope and faith. I just kept adjusting my grip to the proverbial iron rod because I could not deny the testimony I have that I am a daughter of God and that I am continually sustained by His angels around me.

So, after getting all of their kids settled into coloring books and Cheerios, the dad leaned over with his arm along the back of the bench and rubbed his thumb over his wife’s shoulder blade. They turned, smiled at each other and locked eyes for a long time, their eternal bond effortlessly projected right in front of me. I will never forget that moment as long as I live.

I lost it.

I stood up and left the building.

I drove immediately to the nearest LDS temple parking lot and just sat in my car. I promised God that if he would take away my feelings of bitterness, I would serve him all the days of my life. But I was not going to keep searching for a man. I was done. DONE! He was going to have to drop one in my lap.

The resounding answer I got, sitting in the Timpanogos Temple parking lot, was that I was going to have to be okay with myself first. I was going to have to be able to see myself as a whole person and not some bitter “Lady in Waiting.” Waiting for what? There was this tiny voice saying, “Who are you?”

I didn’t even know.

So for birthday number 40 I re-acquainted myself with myself. I let go of all of the feelings of guilt I had for not going to all those singles dances, I got rid of my account on LDSsingles.com, I started consciously trying to expunge myself of the bitterness. I had to recommit myself to studying the scriptures, I had to make time to really study. I had to get to know my neighbors. I had to take visiting teaching seriously  - all things that I wasn’t very good at. The wall of protection I had built up around me turning into a strength. I was relaxing. I had finally stopped worrying about my future. I was just taking one little day at a time.

A month after my 40^th birthday, Hyrum Smith, not the brother of Joseph, but the guy that invented the Franklin Day Planner, came to my work and shook my hand. He said “come work for me at Tuacahn.” And I picked it all up and left my students, my hometown, my parents, and my bitterness.

And I started over by myself.   

What a person doesn’t realize is that you can do nothing by yourself.

The fact is, all these years I kept going to church – for one reason: I needed a companion in my life and I could not deny that Jesus Christ was that person for me during that time. I leaned on Him. I felt His presence in my life. He was in my home, in my classroom and His Spirit was all around me. I had no one else. Inadvertently, through those murky years, I was crying out to my Heavenly Father so much that I was developing a concrete relationship with my deity that would prepare me for a personal Renaissance.

President Uchtdorf said, “Patience—the ability to put our desires on hold for a time—is a precious and rare virtue. We want what we want, and we want it now. Therefore, the very idea of patience may seem unpleasant and, at times, bitter.”^[4]

Well, at this point I had decided I had waited long enough and life was unfair. I was going to be officially disappointed so I built up a wall of bitterness to keep out...to keep what out? Other people. Gee...what a great idea.  It was unsafe to get my hopes up. Faith in that path was gone. I didn’t want to open my heart to anyone that would knock it around, so I closed it off tight. Bitterness will do that.

So I have learned over the years of being single and then childless in a heavily child-ed church, to keep my ears shut sometimes. Let it roll off my back. If I let it affect me every time there was a lesson on family in the LDS church, I would simply never be able to go to my worship services! Heaven forbid I get offended by the cute mom in church that comments "motherhood is fantastic! I love it! It's eeeeeverything!" Those exact words came out of a woman's mouth in one of my Sunday meetings last week. Did I get up and walk out? No. I said in my mind: "Stay in your chair, Hunsaker. You know she doesn't mean to offend you personally. She's saying it because it's true. You feel hurt by it because you want what she has too. She doesn't know that. She's not thinking about you. She doesn't have to think about you. She gets to say what she wants." And then I said out loud, "SHUUUUUT  UPPPP you beast with the perfect ovaries and the precious baby slobber on your shoulder!" And THEN I walked out.

JUST KIDDING!!!! Ha! Had you for a minute didn’t I? I did no such thing. But I sure did think about it.

Recipe for Chapter 9 - Bitterness

No summer barbeque is complete without chips and dip. But be careful! This stuff is addictive!

Shelton Fam’s Bitter Dill Pickle Dip

1 8 oz. block of cream cheese at room temperature

½ cup sour cream

2 large dill pickles finely chopped

1 T onion finely chopped

2 T apple cider vinegar

2 T pickle juice (or more to taste)

1 tsp salt

1 T dried dill weed

Couple of notes:

1. Apple cider vinegar is powerful stuff. You might want to start with half of this amount and add more if you like it.
2. You can also add garlic powder if you like it.
3. If you like it really chunky - add another pickle!

Just double this recipe right from the beginning. Get a bag of ruffled potato chips and share with a friend.

Homework for Chapter 9

You know that feeling when you pull a weed from the root - the entire thing comes out - and there is a sort of popping noise that comes with it? That’s what needs to happen when we have bitterness. It’s got to come out root and all.

1. Can you weed something today? Even metaphorically, is there something in your life you need to get rid of root and all? Even if it's only the old clothes in your closet, what can you "weed" today?

2. Think of a bitter person that you may know. What makes them that way? Describe what makes them so bitter.

  

3.  Cynicism, jealousy, grudges, attention-seeking and negativity are several states

of being that psychologists suggest might be comfort zones for bitter people. These are horrible states of emotional fragility. Can you identify these tendencies in your own mortality?

  

4. Praying for someone often makes us feel like we are searching for the same things.

Want to have an uplifting experience? Pray for someone who has harmed you. Someone cut you off in traffic? Pray for them...Someone ghosted you? Pray for them. Someone lied about you? Pray for them. We can get in the habit of praying for people instead of cursing at them. (Ok, I admit this takes practice….) Try it! It’s homework! Record your feelings here!

  

5.  A lot of health professionals will tell you that getting over bitterness requires forgiveness. How is this possible? Is there someone you need to forgive? 

---

^[1] Luke 1:37

^[2] “According to the Desire of our Hearts,” Neal A. Maxwell, Ensign, November, 1996

^[3] Brigtham Young, Journal of Discourses, 11:14

^[4] Deiter F. Uchtdorf, “Continue in Patience”, Ensign, May 2010

Part 3: Satan, Loneliness & Social Rejection

PART 3 - Satan’s Weapons of Choice for Waiters

In addition to inventing a lot of language Shakespeare often used the truisms and platitudes of his time. A well-known expression in Shakespeare’s time was “the Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.” Edgar says it to his father in Shakespeare’s play King Lear. Lear was an impatient character dealing with old age which in his case, also brought mental disintegration and irrational fears, a great combination for tragedy, eh?

We would expect Satan to ride in on billows of fire wearing black robes and spiky horns, like in the movies. But remember he doesn’t have shoulders in which to drape a long black cape. Instead, he’ll use the weapons of a gentleman. He probably comes in an attractive package. He’ll look so enticing. His plan will seem easy, maybe he’ll offer you an “easy” short cut to one of your goals. He may offer you a relationship that seems to solve all of your problems, take away your guilt, or provide you with a moment of companionship or relief from pain.

It won’t be something that is advantageous to you in the long-run, but it sounds and looks so darn good at the time. It might solve your loneliness, or bitterness for a minute. Remember that his only goal is your downfall. He wears many disguises, and every time he moves in to bring you down it will be to come between you and your family, your friends, your God, your peace of mind. He will enslave you with addiction. He will pin you in the bondage of your weaknesses. He will magnify your doubt. He will make you blame your situation, question your shared Heavenly parentage and rage over what may seem like the futility of it all...this life...these trials...this waiting.

He is real. He has goals. I imagine that he also feels joy when he achieves his goals too, in a wicked, subversive way. I imagine that he was an amazing spirit of our Heavenly Father! He had talents! Remember that he was so respected in the pre-earth life that his opinion mattered - to everyone! But he doesn’t have a body - and that is a scary kind of power to me. Just as the Holy Ghost doesn’t have a body - both spirits must be able to wear many disguises to achieve their goals. The difference is, the Holy Ghost is omniscient and will elevate you in every way, and Satan can only get to know you by your actions and lead you down to your spiritual destruction.

Beware: Satan works best when you are alone. Look at Eve. I’m sure he enjoyed a good laugh at her naive expense. I think he also feels rage and futility. Why else would he work so hard? Amazingly he already knows something absolutely true and he doesn’t need faith to know it: He knows God lives and loves him too. he also lives with the fact that it’s he, himself that prevented his eternal progression and he KNOWS IT FOR SURE. That, my friends, is his personal hell. That would be hellacious for sure. 

See, for me, I have to have faith and patience. My faith is a cushion between me and my human failings. I have faith that through the atonement of Jesus Christ - my mortal failings will be forgiven and I will be able to overcome Satan’s temptations. It’s the reason I go to church to take the sacrament. I have to. I’m human. I’m susceptible to Satan’s staggering power. So here’s the real question then: if I can identify Satan’s army in my life just as easily as I can identify the Holy Ghost why isn’t it easier for me to deal with it when it comes? I have to make it easier. What can we waiters do when we sit out in the open, alone and vulnerable?

Well - that isn’t this book. I can, as a long-time waiter myself, tell you that when non-waiters tell me to have patience and tell me that I will surely be blessed in the next life, I want to do a devilish thing and punch them in the gut and run. I know I should get a hobby! I know I should go to the ward parties! I know I should reach out and serve more...blah, blah, blah…How many times do you think we have to be reminded at firesides that “our time will come?” We’re the ones at the firesides!

But truly - we need to open a discussion about the three major tools that Satan uses to deceive the waiters. By understanding what the weapon does, we will be able to identify its power and meet it with stronger weapons of our own.

Chapter 8 - Tool #1 

Loneliness and Social Rejection

The Grand Tools of the Devil

No man is an island,

entire of itself;

every man is a piece of the continent,

a part of the main...

Any man’s death diminishes me,

because I am involved in mankind;

and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

it tolls for thee.

Meditation 17 by John Donne, 1623

Some never-married, divorced or widowed children of God have a common denominator and it is loneliness. Loneliness is so destructive that it is one of the biggest weapons in Satan’s arsenal and he uses it with this group of singles more than any other thing I think. Loneliness now has a new modern friend called “social rejection.” So not only are we lonely, but we have been denied access to a tribe or partner. Maybe our past experiences have taught us that being in a tribe is too much work, too scary, even painful.

We are all going to cope with rejection at some point in our lives; it’s impossible to go through our life and have every single person be nice to us every single minute. I cast plays several times a year and that rejection is tough, but it isn’t a bad thing. We can learn from rejection as long as we can put it into perspective and not let Satan use it as a tool to make us feel lousy about ourselves by taking rejection too personally.

Loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. I was just about to say to myself, “well, I’m safe because I have 2000 friends on Facebook,” but in Psychology Today it explained the modern irony of today’s social media versus the vast epidemic of loneliness. The article asserts that while some people may point to fame and fortune as the key to their happiness, the vast majority of us indicate that friends and family are the real prizes. It goes on to say that “feelings of loneliness and isolation affect all types and ages of people, although some, like adolescents and the elderly, are more likely to be impacted than others. It doesn’t matter if a teenager has 500 Instagram connections, that vast network can’t ameliorate the emotional desolation of loneliness. Fewer but closer personal relationships are more important.”^[1]

I can’t count the number of resources that I found that can prove that loneliness causes physical and mental illness. One surprising study revealed that loneliness heightens a person’s flight-or-fight response - a physiological reaction to facing harm or danger. So instead of fighting their social isolation, it proliferates it - feeding the heart-breaking cycle. I’ve been in that cycle! I have friends, family members, and students that I see in the cycle too. In February of 2015, scientists reported in the journal Behavioural Ecology and Sociobiology that when they isolated ants from their group, they lived only six days, whereas those that stayed with the group lived an average of 66 days. Both groups were given the same amount of food, but the lonely ants just walked and walked around without stopping, exerting all their energy and in six short days, died. In short, the isolated ants didn’t know how to behave without their group.

They died.

I don’t know what actually caused the ants to die, but I’m going to assume that it was loneliness.

Loneliness has been a near-death experience for me and that’s why we should talk about it. It started with isolated crying, a lot of crying. Usually at night and anytime the bed felt larger or colder than it was. I got into a habit of falling asleep in my Laz-y-boy in front of the T.V. at night to avoid the vacant bed. That way, if I staggered to the bed later I wouldn’t have time to think about how empty it was before I had collapsed into my coma. If I got into the bed too soon the loneliness would wrap its creepy, cold arms around me and shake me all night keeping me awake with questions...wondering what was going to happen to me if I didn't find someone to share my life with? Who was going to help me out in my old age? Should I put more money into my retirement so I could afford to hire someone to take care of me? Should I build a house with just one bedroom or three, why three, maybe just one big one…okay two, I should have hope at least. Should I have my eggs frozen now? (Just kidding, I never thought that. BECAUSE I WAS D.U.M.B. and should have thought that but I was an idiot. I SOOO wish I had thought about that then. I digress.) The dialogue I had with myself never stopped.

When you are single you don’t have anyone to talk to on a regular basis and as you ask yourself all these questions all the time, the REALLY big question started to haunt me: what will happen when I started talking back out loud to the voices in my head? Will someone commit me to a psychiatric hospital? Should I just do that now to prevent the inevitable and at the very least save my family from having to do it?

What’s wrong with me that no one loves me?

Am I weird?

I must be weird.

Well, poop. I guess I’ll just stay in tonight.

And the cycle rears its ugly head over and over again. 

The idea that loneliness affects our physical well-being is not new. Dr. James J. Lynch, professor of psychology at The University of Maryland, spoke at a BYU forum in October of 1979. He wrote a book called The Broken Heart: The Medical Consequences of Loneliness (1977). Dr. Lynch, not a member of the Church, found that heart rhythms of hospital patients improved dramatically when a nurse simply touched a patient to take his pulse—even when the patient was comatose and dying.[2]

He presented some ugly data supporting the idea that not only did social rejection and loneliness create a pretty bad life, they are also a major cause contributing factor to an early death. Here are a few examples of his research:

● Seventeen married people commit suicide for every ninety-two widowed and divorced people.

● For every eleven married people who die of cirrhosis of the liver, seventy-seven single adults do a seven-fold increase.

● Six married people die of pneumonia for every forty-two single adults who do, a seven-fold increase.

● Between two and three times as many single people die of heart disease as married people; twice as many single adults as marrieds die of cancer.

Douglas Nemecek, MD, Cigna’s chief medical officer for behavioral health, said the findings of a May 2018 study suggest that the problem of loneliness has reached “epidemic” proportions. He said “Loneliness has the same impact on mortality as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, making it even more dangerous than obesity.” [3]

!

My single friend Justin has such an incredibly positive outlook on loneliness:

“I hate being alone but like I’m sure you experienced too, you’re not really ever alone. You just get lonely sometimes and wish life were different but there really are compensatory blessings and there is always hope if you keep working at it.”

Yes! Thank you, Justin! Compensatory blessings are everywhere! Back in 2016 when the church remodeled it’s home and visiting teaching programs, I was unsure how to go about “ministering” to the women on my list. I really do love the simple word change from visiting to ministering. It’s so active. The hardest thing for me is starting a conversation with someone I don’t know very well. I’m just not great at being forced into a relationship with someone out of the blue. But I can bake a loaf of banana bread that will knock your socks off. So that’s what I started doing. I just bake extra and take it around. Andy calls it “bake and take.” The banana bread is the world’s easiest conversation starter and so far - only one person in the world has ever denied its entrance into their house. But I tried! And that’s all you can ever do.

In 2007, we moved into a townhome unit in St. George and were the first to buy. It was what two teachers could afford at the time. You've got to really love your neighbors when you move into a townhome and be a good neighbor. Eventually, the neighborhood filled in and they were incredible people. Like the kind of people you run to when your end of the building is on fire and you're in your underwear. Those people were stellar. So when the last people moved in, the people that would share a wall with us, we were excited to meet them and welcome them into our awesome club.

They were not excited to meet us.

While the moving truck was pulled up out front we went over and introduced ourselves. They were polite. Their small son had a Batman costume on. Which, incidentally, he never took off in four years. Dad shook Andy's hand. He was very nice. Mom looked about my age which secretly made me happy because everyone else in the hood was half my age and bearing children right and left. We offered to help bring in boxes and it was like we had an infectious disease all of the sudden. "Don't touch anything," she said flatly, "we're fine." I stepped back in shock and put my hands down.

Who says that? No one. You smile and say, "Oh, we're almost done but thanks anyway," or "You're so nice but we've got a system..." or something. Sheesh. "Don't touch anything."

I was unphased. I would go down with the ship as usual. So…

A few days later, instead of crashing on the couch after work, I got out the old Ninth Ward cookbook and baked some famous Zona Steiner Banana Bread (I had a hard time letting it out of the house). While it was still hot, I wrapped it, tagged it with "Welcome home neighbors!!!!" Smiley face. Too many exclamation points. "Please rely on us for anything you need. Andy, Jan, Gus and Lily." Then I took three steps over to their front door, lights on everywhere, I could hear and see the T.V. on, the kid running around screaming, mom yelling at him. "They will fit right in here," I thought. I rang the bell.

Silence.

More silence. Like everyone inside the house had frozen, wondering what to do. Eyes shifting.

I took a step back. Maybe I was too close, "in their space" so to speak. That bread was hot so I switched hands. Rude to ring twice? Oh well. I was committed. Loud bell.

Creepy silence.

I saw the blind shut quickly. Too quickly. I took another step back.

By this time I was thoroughly confused. Maybe they were in their underwear. So I waited a little longer giving them time to throw on clothes. LDS women with hot banana bread to no go easily into the night.

Third ring. Going down with the ship...

Lights went off. Really?! Okay, I get it, letting my macro smile fade. Should I take the banana bread back home and slice into that goodness myself? It had a sugar crust for crying out loud!!!! I wrestled! Hung my head and debated with myself. No doubt the other loaf was almost gone, I had left Andy alone with it. No. I was taught better. Pause. Crunchy hot sugar crust. Dang!! I gently laid the loaf on the welcome mat, took a deep breath, bid it goodbye and hoped it would call me as soon as it got inside to tell me what was really going on in there.

But it never got inside.

The next day, I saw it sitting there on my way to work and my way back. Poor thing was probably now as hard as a brick, and feeling bad that it had not fulfilled the measure of its creation.

But I'm starting to. So...that's good anyway.

Recipe for Chapter 8

Zona’s Banana Bread for Trying Hard

(or Crusty Banana Bread for Crusty Types)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

½ cup shortening

1 ½ cups granulated sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

2 cups white flour

½ tsp Salt

1 tsp baking soda

4 T milk

2 cups mashed ripe bananas

1 cup walnuts or your choice of nuts (optional)

¼ cup Demerara Cane Sugar

Cream together shortening, sugar. Beat in eggs and vanilla.

Add dry ingredients until just incorporated. Don’t over mix.

Add bananas, milk. Beat on medium speed for about 2 minutes. Stir in nuts.

Pour batter into two loaf pans and sprinkle with a good coating of Demerara cane sugar before you put them in the oven. Bake at 350 degrees for one hour or until a toothpick, inserted into the very center, comes out clean and not sticky.

  

Homework for Chapter 8



So what’s the prescription for loneliness? I can take a pill to control my blood pressure, but what can we do to help the “epidemic proportions” of us that are lonely?
List two people you would call “In Case of an Emergency”




#1 - In case of emergency call:



Phone number:



Address:



#2 - In case of emergency call:



Phone number:



Address:







3. You have probably been assigned to minister to two or three people/families in your ward. QUIZ!


What are their names (without looking at a printout)


1. 2. 3.


4. List their birthdays:






5. What do these people do for a living?






6. What do these people do in their free time?






7. Do these people have children - how many and what are their ages?


8. Are they active in your ward or ward activities?






9. Where are their immediate families located?






10. Are you active in your ward/community activities? If you aren't, why not?


11. When is your next ward activity? What is it? Make sure you go if you can.

---

^[1] Psychologytoday.com

^[2] Ensign, June 1980

^[3] WEBMD health News, Nick Tate, May 4, 2018