wave hello again.: Happy Fathers Day. ("But first, a number.")*

Four years ago I gave a talk in church on Fathers Day. (Funnily enough, Matt had given a talk on Mothers Day the month before.) The topic was Hebrews 12:9: "Furthermore we have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits, and live?" When I was given the scripture I was like "uhhhmmm...sure..." But I think I figured it out. In case the sermons at your own church aren't enough today, here's another one. My dad wasn't there to hear it so I thought I'd share it with him. I was blessed and am blessed to have such a stalwart, patient, and earnest man in my life who has watched over me since the day I was born. Someday my own kids will realize how lucky they are to have a grandpa like that. Two grandpas like that. And best of all a dad like that too.

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I have a sister named Hannah who’s two years younger than me. We always shared everything and likewise fought over everything. I can still imagine my dad waltzing in amid the screaming and singing us a few bars of “Let Us Oft Speak Kind Words to Each Other.” (I’ll spare you my rendition)

I am a mom myself. I have a preschooler and a toddler at home, and the older one sometimes picks on the younger one. It’s hard for me to know how to handle this sometimes. My dear husband is much, much better at it than I am. If Theo takes a toy from Ida or pushes her down, my first instinct is to do the same to him so that he knows how it feels. I may or may not have actually gone through with that instinct in the past…I’m not going to tell you…but my point is that I think a natural parental reaction when a child hurts someone else is to correct it immediately. We want to teach our kids empathy so that they don’t terrorize other kids. We want our kids to be good people.

I’m telling you about this because I came across a letter of apology my father wrote to me when I was eleven years old. I had been teasing my younger sister Hannah and making her cry, and my dad decided, apparently in anger, to tease me in a mean way so I would know what it felt like. What he didn’t think of was that he could have just called down the hall to my older sister Phoebe, who was an expert at teasing me and making me cry, and thereby washed his hands of the whole situation. But anyway, the letter:

30 November 1994

Dear Eliza. I have thought a bit more about the demonstration I held earlier of the hurtfulness of teasing. It was an ineffective demonstration, except to point out that even dads can do foolish things sometimes. I’m sorry I did that and if it made you feel bad.

Being a father is mostly pretty great. But there are those times that we let fear overtake us—the fear that if our children exhibit any negative human behavior that somehow it must be corrected now or they will be damaged irreparably by the event. It is on those occasions that we usually demonstrate some negative behavior of our own, such as anger, sarcasm, or perhaps a pitiful imitation of childish behavior like you got from me tonight. I hope that by the time you have your own children I will have perfected the art of being a parent, so I can be a good grandparent.

Thanks so much for being such a great daughter. I’ll try not to dwell on what I perceive as imperfections, because they are comparatively few. I’ll try instead to recognize your greatness—that’s the real Eliza—

Thanks for your understanding. Love, Dad.

Just wanted to remind you that I was in fact eleven years old. But that's just my dad. He's the best and he likes big words.

I want to repeat that line from my father—“I’ll try to recognize your greatness—that’s the real you.” Obviously we’re all human and haven’t had enough practice in loving each other to get it right 100% of the time. But what if we were able to recognize the greatness in each other more often? What if in our dealings with each other, even the most awkward or emotional circumstances, we were able to follow the pattern set by the Lord in D&C 121:41-44, particularly in delicate situations: speaking our piece with:

Persuasion, long-suffering, gentleness, meekness, love unfeigned, kindness, pure knowledge, without hypocrisy, without guile…

And when we do have to confront someone, whether a child or spouse or neighbor, doing it not in anger, but sensitively, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost. And then showing afterwards an increase of love.

Brigham Young said, “If you are ever called upon to chasten a person, never chasten beyond the balm you have within you to bind up.” “

I feel that this example of how a father might most righteously chasten his children, is a parallel to how Heavenly Father chastens us. A righteous father looks at his child and sees great potential, just as Heavenly Father does. If he chastens his child, it is not for the fun of it, not to make the child feel ashamed, not to make the father feel powerful, but out of love and concern for the child, to teach the child, to prepare him for the future, wanting the child to be his best self. In Hebrews 12:11 the apostle Paul stipulates:

“Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.” Specifically in Heavenly Father’s case, in verse 10: Heavenly Father chastens us “for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness.”

We often don’t understand why things don’t turn out the way we had hoped. Maybe we feel we don’t deserve it. Maybe we’re not in the mood to hear what Joseph Smith heard in the depths of his suffering at Liberty Jail: that “all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.” But ultimately, righteous chastening will make us stronger and better. At times, amid Job’s unthinkable trials, he became pretty depressed. He asked the Lord why he had even been born. During his worst suffering, he said: “I was not cut off before the darkness, neither hath [the Lord] covered the darkness from my face.”

Some of the lamenting we do when things are going badly in our own lives, probably sounds to Heavenly Father like my son sounds to me when he doesn’t get to push the elevator button. His screams are ear-splitting. To him, it’s the worst punishment on earth. To me, because I have experienced more complex joys than pushing an elevator button, I realize that ultimately the elevator button is not that big of a deal and Theo will get through it. Of course I also realize how much he loves pushing that button and so I can sympathize a little bit with him when someone else gets to it first and he is sad. That’s a silly example and I don’t meant to trivialize the very real heartaches in the world. Our Savior Jesus Christ, who has suffered everything down to every last disappointment, know exactly how we feel when life goes wrong. The hardest part is, as Elder Maxwell has said, “to partake of a bitter cup without becoming bitter.”

Job was ultimately able to do this. Despite his despair, Job said, “He knoweth the way that I take. When he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” And gold has been refined through a purification process.

Jesus Christ is the best example of sanctification through trials. Brigham Young said, “It is recorded that Jesus was made perfect through suffering. Why should we imagine for one moment that we can be prepared to enter into the kingdom of rest with him and the Father, without passing through similar ordeals?”

The good news of course is that not just despite but also because of our ordeals, and most of all because of repentance and forgiveness afforded us by Christ’s Atonement, we can join Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. The powerful closing words of Moroni—definitely no stranger to heartache and chastening—affirm this:

“Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, … then … by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; … then are ye sanctified in Christ by the grace of God, through the shedding of the blood of Christ, which is in the covenant of the Father unto the remission of your sins, that ye become holy, without spot.”

Heavenly Father and Jesus recognize the greatness in us. They know what we are capable of and that’s what they see. Only they know the bumps in the road that will help us get there. I hope we can recognize the greatness within ourselves and let that guide us in our actions—and maybe more importantly, recognize the greatness in our children--or anyone we are charged to teach--and let that guide us as we teach them to become better too.

I am thankful today on Fathers Day for the love I feel from Heavenly Father, and for my own dear earthly father who tried his best to help me become a better person, and also thankful for a loving husband who is a wonderful and wise father to our kids. I love the words of the Primary song that the kids sang earlier: “Fathers are so special / with a very special love. / They watch us and protect us, / they guide us and direct us / back to our home above.” That’s what righteous fathers do. I testify, along with Job, that Christ knows the way that we take—when he hath tried us, we shall come forth as gold. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

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Bonus: a favorite little series of photos of Matt and baby Ida. "A Visit":