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.
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)
- Caramelize
onion, carrot and garlic together in a deep soup pot with butter and oil
- When
the vegetables are brown and soft (about 10 minutes), stir in the tomatoes
(juice and all) and stock
- Let it simmer
for about 30 minutes or until it has reduced to your liking
- Let it
cool slightly
- Blend
until silky smooth (I use a Magic Bullet blender)
- 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?
