Scripture Squiggle: Ephesians 5:25

"Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it."

My father is a dragon slayer. I've seen him in action as he defends his castle, and my mother, from the fearsome beasts. Fire breathing? No. Taller than a skyscraper? No. Massive jaws and killer claws? Again, no. Hairy, six-legged and creepy? Yes! My mother's dragons are ugly, brown, two-inch cockroaches. And my father is her hero.

My brother is also a dragon slayer. As is my husband. The dragons that terrify my sister-in-law differ from those my father slays and from the ones that attack my home. Hers are spiders; mine are scorpions. While the species of dragons differ, the love and affection the slaying of those dragons show for my mother, my sister-in-law, and for me is incredibly strong--the damsel-in-distress-knight-in-shining-armor connection.

Sure, I'm a strong, capable woman. More than once a dragon has reared its ugly head when my dragon slayer hasn't been home, and I've had to kill the monster myself. But when he is home, I'm a willing damsel in distress, and in doing so, I feed his need to protect and defend me.

All husbands should be dragon slayers--protecting the women they love from the things they fear most, whether the dragon is tangible or not. And all wives should often be the damsel, giving her husband a chance to rescue her. Stories are full of the rescued falling in love with the rescuers.

I know my heart swells with greater love every time my dragon slayer defeats another beast, scoops it up in a plastic cup and disposes of it in the garbage can.

Scripture Squiggle: Proverbs 22:6

"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

My mom had a unique way of slipping bits of the Gospel into the lives of her children. She liked to place uplifting quotes, pictures and Mormon-ads throughout the house in places where we could not ignore them. Like the bathroom.

Even though I have been out of the house for over seventeen years, I can still remember many of the Mormon-ads on the wall of the bathroom: "Reflect on Eternity," "Rise above the Blues," "Cutting Remarks are really Hurting." I see the picture of the girl looking into a mirror and seeing, not her reflection, but her future self with a young man standing outside the temple; the one yellow balloon climbing above the group of blue ones; a young man with knives coming out of his mouth as he speaks.

On the wall beside the bathroom door, my mom placed a handwritten copy of the final stanza of the poem by Ella Wheeler Cox entitled "Gethsemane." I never saw that poem anywhere else, never studied it in church or school, but I can still quote those closing lines.

When my mom picked me up from church activities or school games, she always had uplifting music playing. Although I would unfailingly pop her cassette out of the player and turn the volume up on my own music, lines from the songs she played would linger in my mind, often steering the course of my attitude later on.

Mom never forced spirituality on us. She never argued when we changed the music, and we always had the option of using the bathroom with our eyes closed, but she surrounded herself with goodness. And because she did, when we were with her, near her, that goodness encircled us. And her children have been blessed by it.

Scripture Squiggle Doctrine and Covenants 46:32

"And ye must give thanks unto God in the Spirit for whatsoever blessing ye are blessed with."

During an address during general conference in October of 2008, President Monson reminded us, "Our realization of what is most important in life goes hand in hand with gratitude for our blessings."

(Finding Joy in the Journey)

The Spiral Notebook

We didn't feel very thankful as November of 2009 approached. My husband and I and our seven children were living in a three bedroom trailer without hope of improved circumstances anytime soon. It seemed the complaints multiplied with each day that passed, and I was beginning to feel crushed beneath the weight of our unhappiness. "Mom, when will I have my own room?" "She never helps me clean up." "I HATE this house!" And, although I didn't voice it, I felt the same way. How can I ever keep the house clean with so little space? A dishwasher sure would be nice. Another scratch in the linoleum?

Something had to be done. Something to remind us of all the blessings Heavenly Father had given us. So I found a lightly used spiral notebook buried in a junk drawer, tore out the used pages, and decorated the cover with a few stickers and a marker: Our Book of Daily Blessings. I showed the notebook to the family and told them my idea. Each day, everyone in the family needed to write down a blessing that they were thankful for. Those who could not write, could draw a picture or have an older sibling write it for them.

I placed the book in an accessible location and stocked the area with pens, pencils and crayons. At the end of the first day, I discovered that my family was grateful for food, clothes and other basic necessities. But by the time Thanksgiving arrived, our blessings became deeper; we were far more aware of God's hand in our lives. My son, who struggled with sharing a room with three loud, energetic siblings, wrote, "God showed me how loving my family is and how to be thankful for my trials." A daughter observed, "God gave me the ability to help a student I didn't know with work and she became my friend." And my husband, perhaps the loudest of all the complainers, penned, "Heavenly Father helped me to recognize that our current lifestyle is not as bad as some people."

We enjoyed the Book of Blessings so much that we continued writing in it long after Thanksgiving passed. We became a family full of gratitude, a family that saw God and His magnificent blessings in everything around us-- thanks to a slightly tattered, wide-ruled spiral notebook.

Scripture Squiggle: Doctrine & Covenants 18:23-24

"Behold, Jesus Christ is the name which is given of the Father, and there is none other name given whereby man can be saved;

Wherefore, all men must take upon them the name which is given of the Father, for in that name shall they be called at the last day"

When I discovered that some unknown someone was using my name and social security number, I felt like screaming and crying. My entire body trembled, my stomach cramped and I thought I would be sick. I felt a total lack of control. What could I do? I didn't know who was using my information; I didn't know when it had started or where they had gotten it. I just knew that someone had my name, and I wasn't sure I liked how they were using it.

In many ways, the Savior is a victim of identity theft. He warned us of Antichrists and false prophets. We've read about Sherem and Korihor in the Book of Mormon. More recently we've heard claims of imminent judgement and the end of the world, despite the declaration in the scriptures that only Heavenly Father knows when the Second Coming will occur.

What about those of us who have chosen, not to denounce the Savior or deceive those who would follow him, but to take upon us his name? Are we living in a way that is consistent with his life? Or do our actions cause him anguish. Are we damaging our Savior's love and trust in us with how we are using the name that he has given us just as the person who has stolen my name is hurting my credibility?

In an article in the April 1982 New Era entitled, "Taking Upon Us His Name", Ardeth Kapp relates, "It is in reaching out to others that we qualify ourselves and become more worthy of his name. It is our ordinary work, our seemingly routine duties, and our familiar relationships that can become sacramental in nature."

We should consider our actions daily to be sure we are not falsely using Jesus' name. Then we can partake of the promise given in Mosiah 5:9

"And it shall come to pass that whosoever doeth this shall be found at the right hand of God, for he shall know the name by which he is called; for he shall be called by the name of Christ."

Scripture Squiggle: 3 Nephi 12:6

"And blessed are all they who do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled with the Holy Ghost."

Until last night, I didn't give these words much thought. To me, this verse meant to seek after righteousness, and if we do so, we are worthy of the companionship of the Holy Ghost. But to hunger and thirst after something means that we really want, need, that thing, and when we attain that which we seek, we are satisfied.

I'm no stranger to feeling physically full--especially on pizza night. However, I never really considered what it meant to feel spiritually full.

Last night, at a relief society activity, I learned what that feeling is. It's knowing that I helped turn a stranger's anger into a smile by sending my daughter over to move the shopping cart out of the parking space. It's the warmth of fellowship that comes from attending Sunday meetings and chatting in the hall. It's the peace that settles my mind when I read a verse of scripture that must have been written for me, for just that moment in my life. It's a tear cried for someone else, a tear wiped away. It's a hug or a smile, or countless things, little and big, that I can do each day--for my stubborn little boys or someone I've never met.

It's a feeling I need to know so well, that I crave it as much as I crave a steaming cup of hot chocolate on a frigid day.

Am I spiritually fed each day or am I unknowingly starving, when nourishment is within my grasp? Am I teaching my children to recognize their own hunger for spiritual things? I think I'll look a little closer at my family's spiritual diet. It's never to late to start being healthy!

Scripture Squiggle: Helaman 12:2

"Yea, and we may see at the very time when he doth prosper his people, yea, in the increase of their fields, their flocks and their herds, and in gold, and in silver, and in all manner of precious things of every kind and art; sparing their lives, and delivering them out of the hands of their enemies; softening the hearts of their enemies that they should not declare wars against them; yea, and in fine, doing all things for the welfare and happiness of his people; yea, then is the time that they do harden their hearts, and do forget the Lord their God, and do trample under their feet the Holy One--yea, and this because of their ease, and their exceedingly great prosperity."

The phrase was becoming one of my most frequently asked questions. As my husband and I toiled to convince the water pump to actually pump the water the grass so desperately needed. Why can't it ever be easy for us?

Again, when we tried to build a shelter for the tomato plants, wilting and baking in the sun. Why can't it be easy?

I asked the question every time a task turned out to be more difficult than I felt it should have--which was quite often. My husband's standard reply was, "Because we're Anderson's." To which I would grumble something about only being an Anderson by marriage and therefore should be immune to any curse.

But even the simple job of replacing windshield wipers became a frustrating, lengthy chore that left us both cross.

I was beginning to believe my husband's joking reply one night as we struggled to install a simple three-piece mount for our flat screen TV. Surely it should not take an hour to determine where to place the screws, drill the pilot holes and tighten everything into place. Alas, more than an hour had passed as we searched for the stud locator, searched for the drill bits, broke one of the thick screws, and misplaced the ratcheting screwdriver.

In the midst of the angering chaos, while trying to coax the last two screws into the back of the television I wondered aloud yet again why things couldn't go smoothly for us. From behind me, my husband gave me a soft chuckle.

"Hold on," he said and than he began to read Helaman 12:2. When he finished he set his scriptures aside. "That's why it isn't easy for us."

I tightened the last screw into place. "Things have to be difficult to remind us that we need the Lord?"

"Pretty much. I'd rather have things hard and remember that I rely on the Lord to accomplish things, even the little things instead of relying on my own strength out of pride and finding myself on the wrong side of things when Savior returns."

He moved over beside me and we lifted the TV together, attaching it to the mount on the wall. It was a little off balance, and we grinned at each other. "It can't be easy can it?" I laughed.

Scripture Squiggle: Doctrine and Covenants 133:14

"Go ye out from among the nations, even from Babylon, from the midst of wickedness, which is spiritual Babylon."

I saw the first scorpion one night as I walked back to the house after feeding the chickens. It was making its way toward the back door like a solitary soldier. I studied it for a moment, my heart racing as I realized that it was indeed a scorpion. Then I rushed to the door and called to my husband to bring the bug spray, quick!

I sprayed the scorpion with half the can, and my husband and I watched until we were certain it was dead. Not knowing if dead scorpions, like dead bees, could still sting, my husband scooped it into a plastic cup, placed another cup inside that one and tossed it deep into the recesses of a trash bag.

I was shaken--the safety of my home had been violated by this threat to my family. But it didn't take long before I rationalized that the scorpion had been outside, a natural place to find scorpions, and I stopped worrying about it so much.

We disturbed the second scorpion when we decided to clean out the garage. My husband was away helping his father, so all of the children came out to help. Or get in the way. I was working in the back corner, near one of the blind-covered windows when my two year old began pulling and shaking the blinds. Dust and decomposing insect bodies flew from underneath. I told him to stop, but he continued flapping the blinds against the window. One of his older brothers joined him, intrigued by the dead bugs.

Setting the broom down, I marched over to where they were just in time to see a scorpion appear on the window sill, right next to my toddler's hand. I snatched him away, shoving my other son back at the same time. I ordered my teenager to keep everyone out of the corner and sent one of my daughters in for the spray.

Not as brave as my husband, I left the body in the corner where I killed it, waiting for him to come home and dispose of the still twitching bug.

Deeply troubled, I did some searching on the Internet, and determined from the pictures I found that the scorpions I had seen were bark scorpions--the only Arizona scorpion that posed any danger. Yet again, I rationalized that the bug-infested, dirty garage was an invitation to scorpions. Now that it was cleaned, maybe we wouldn't see anymore.

Nearly a month went by without anymore scorpion sightings. Until one day my eleven-year old son came screaming up the stairs. He'd discovered a scorpion, trapped in a bag hanging from his bed. My husband and I, armed with the bug spray, hurried down to dispose of it. It was smaller than the other ones we had seen, but it was still a scorpion.

Again, I was panicked. This one had been inside the house. In my son's room. We sat as a family, talking about the scorpion and how they like to hide in dark places and that a dirty room is a perfect place for them to live. We also talked about how small of a space they needed to get into the house. By the time we finished we had determined that the scorpion had come in through my son's window and made sure he didn't open it anymore. Problem solved.

Last night, two weeks after we found the scorpion in the bedroom, my family gathered as we do every night in our living room to read scriptures and pray together. We discussed a few verses in Matthew about service then we all retired to our knees for prayer. As we were passing out hugs and kisses and preparing to send our children to bed, my nine year old daughter shouted, "Scorpion!" and I saw the critter crawling across the floor toward my husband and toddler.

I pulled my son out of the way, shouting to my husband and pointing at the invader as he moved swiftly forward. My sixteen year old jumped the back of the couch like it was nothing and cowered behind it. Someone grabbed the bug killer, and my husband sprayed it, then smashed it.

We could not rationalize away the presence of the scorpion in our living room--an area of high traffic and activity. Now we jump at every movement, imagined or real, expecting to see another scorpion. The exterminator will be here soon, but it will be a long time before we feel completely safe in our own home again.

And I wonder, if we had acting on the first sighting, would our other unpleasant, closer encounters have been avoided?

So it is with the wickedness that the Lord warns us to avoid. If we tolerate it, rationalize that it is part of the natural world and as long as it doesn't invade our sanctuary, it cannot harm us, then the evil will move closer and closer, until it is dangerously close to our families and our safety. Best to protect ourselves and our families before it becomes a threat.