One of the Best...One of the Worst

(Originally posted to FaceBook on August 5, 2009)

One of the best sunsets I’ve ever enjoyed…was around November 1983 in Lahaina, Maui, Hawaii. I was serving as a missionary there at the time. My companion and I decided to go to this one point near our home that overlooked the ocean. Pineapples had been planted and harvested there in the past, but the ground was being rested then, and it made for a great place to just hang loose for a while. Waves broke gently on the cliffs below. The ocean appeared calm for miles and miles before us. Prickly pear cactuses (of all things) dotted the tropical slope. And there in the distance (yet, strangely, right within my heart at the same time) was the sunset…gradually lowering, with ever-shifting colors of azure blue, yellow, orange, coral, and grey drawing a curtain on the horizon. What peace. What comfort was mine.

This shot was taken towards the close of the sunset and does not at all
do justice to even a portion of its beauty that evening,
but you probably get the idea.

Prickly pear cactuses on the Maui coastline near Lahaina.

One of the worst tragedies I’ve witnessed…was the explosion and disintegration of the Space Shuttle Challenger and her crew of seven souls on January 28, 1986. At the time, I was working at a print shop in Tucson, Arizona and heard the shocking news on the radio. Later that night, I had a class at Pima Community College and stopped at the cafeteria there to order a quesadilla with all of the fixings. The cafeteria had a television and the eyes of all students there were fixed upon it, including mine. I stood watching and listening as special news coverage repeatedly revealed the awful disaster from all angles. It never ceases to amaze me how such a pristine, blue sky was so emotionally darkened that day by the upward surge of white-clouded destruction. As I watched, tears freely streamed down my cheeks (as they fill my eyes again, even now, over 23 years later). In terms of lives lost, this tragedy was far from the worst. More lives have been lost in a single car accident, for example. Still, America’s hopes for crew member and teacher, Christa McAuliffe--and just the pure excitement generated throughout the world by her addition--made this journey into space such a singular one. Then, 73 seconds after lift off, all of those hopes were stilled. The crew just vanished. How could the story be written this way? The groan of such an overwhelming emptiness cannot be adequately expressed.



STS-51-L crew: (front row) Michael J. Smith, Dick Scobee, Ronald McNair; (back row) Ellison Onizuka, Christa McAuliffe, Gregory Jarvis, Judith Resnik.





One of the best laughs I’ve ever had...came courtesy of one of my roommates, Robin Connelly (Butler now). Along with Robin, my other roommate, Tommie Sue Woolley, and I all made a trip to the Conejos Valley area in southern Colorado one summer. Tommie’s mom owned some cabins there, so the cost was just the price of gas and food. We repaired a downed power line that led to the main cabin, got the water well to pump water, fished in the nearby river, took some nature walks, hiked up to the waterfall at Rough Creek, built fires and made yummy foil dinners, enjoyed the stars, etc.

Tommie Sue Woolley (L), Robin Connolly (R), and Jacki Hancock (C)
at the Conejos Valley in Colorado around 1992.

Then, it was time to go home. After packing up, we all got into the truck, and decided to say a prayer before we left. Robin was elected to say that prayer. She went on for a little while, sharing gratitude for the great time we had there. Then, at the appropriate moment, she said…"and please bless this truck that it will be nourishing and strengthening to our minds and bodies." She paused. We all paused. Tommie and I tried so very hard to contain our heaving snickers. Robin found a way to say "AMEN" as quickly as possible, and Tommie and I just started busting a gut! Tears gushed out from all the laughing! Robin joined with us within moments as well, though she did take pains to try to explain away her slip up. It took us at least another 10 minutes to get ourselves in control enough to start driving off the property. I’m glad that laugh came with us!

One of the worst regrets I’ve carried...was when I decided it was more important for me to offer updates about my mom’s impending death to her brother and sisters via telephone, rather than just stay by her side the whole time during her final moments. When I came back from one of these phone calls, I saw my mom’s eyes fixed and dilated. Just a few minutes earlier, she had been cared for by a group of nurses (washed, etc.), which was a driving reason why I had left to make a phone call in the first place. I think the activities they carried out eked out the last, remaining particles of energy in Mom’s exhausted body. So, I didn’t get that final hug or kiss from her. Instead, I had to drape Mom’s lifeless arms around my neck and hold her as best I could, whispering and singing into her ear my final good-byes. How I wish I had that time back again.

One of the best experiences I've had with God...is a compelling one for me and not at all one that I can share in its fullness. (Aren’t they all, though?) I was preparing a special lesson on the Atonement of the Savior for the Young Women (Laurels) in my charge at the time in Tucson. I spent numerous hours reading, pondering, writing, and repeating the cycle all over again. I considered so many more things about the Savior and His Atonement than I would ever dare attempt to teach. It was an amazing time of preparation of mind for me. This preparation was followed by communication through prayer so powerful that it transformed my spiritual understanding about the Atonement. It was at this time that I came to know for myself, unequivocally, that Jesus Christ lived and died for me. And, had I been the ONLY person who needed spiritual repair in this world and salvation in the next, he would have ransomed himself for my sake, and for my sake alone. And, still…"I stand all amazed…."

Skinhorse Truth: Lengthy Trials

Sometimes, our lengthy trial is made lengthy for a particular purpose. It may be that we are not prepared to receive the blessing we would design for ourselves. It may be that we are to experience apparent separation or other "enmity" between God and ourselves, that we might better understand and help another who truly is separated from God. Or, it may be that we are to go where the Lord has gone, touching but the edges of his imprint, that we might embrace him in fullness when, alas, we arrive where he is.
- Jacqueline J. Hancock

Quote: Painful state of being

"The most painful state of being
is remembering the future,
particularly one you can never have."

- Søren Aabye Kierkegaard
Danish Philosopher, 1813-1855

Joan of Arcadia

This is one of the best TV shows ever! I consider it an absolute treasure and recommend it to all of my friends and their friends!

The heroine of the show is a teenager named Joan (played by Amber Tamblyn). Joan lives in a town called Arcadia. (You may already see that this is a take-off on the whole concept of JOAN of ARC.) Joan enjoys an unusual relationship and communication with God, who gives her numerous missions to complete; thus, helping her to come to know more of her mettle, and preparing her to fulfill even greater, future purposes. The communication given is never quite enough for Joan, though, and she often responds with typical teenage sarcasm and rebellion as she goes about trying to figure out what it is that God really wants her to learn and do.

What Joan learns through the process of fulfilling God's purposes for her affects not only her life, but that of others around her as well. The messages are insightful, inspiring, and often profound. When all is said and done, we ALL seem to act in ways similar to Joan as we go about trying to do our part in fulfilling the purposes of God.

Unfortunately, the show was cancelled shortly after the third season started. To no avail, a great protest by viewers demanded that it be kept on the air, since so many families were brought closer together by watching the episodes and discussing concepts afterwards. This show is not geared towards children; it is better for teens and older kids like you and me.

Without hesitation, I recommend that you check it out. It is worth the money to purchase and keep the two seasons that were produced in full. But, if moola is short, at least look for them at your local library, or borrow them from a friend.

My Trip to Nauvoo for Mom

Yvonne Derelys Plaskett in 1959

On Mother's Day, I had planned to write something about my mother, which never really materialized. I have had a bit of writer's block ever since that time. As Mom had to assume some of the role of being a father to me as well as a mother, I decided that this Father's Day might be a reasonably appropriate time to share some new things about her. The following is a letter I wrote to The First Presidency a little over six years ago.

April 13, 2003

The First Presidency
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
50 East North Temple Street
Salt Lake City, Utah 84150

Dear Brethren:

I am writing this letter to make a request, but ask that you first endure a story.

Like many people, when it was announced that the Nauvoo Temple was to be rebuilt, the Spirit moved me, tears filled my eyes, and genuine enthusiasm for the undertaking resided within, from the moment the announcement was made through the time of dedication itself. Originally, I had even envisioned participating in the dedication on the Nauvoo Temple grounds, but later resolved to do so at my local Stake Center in Mesa, Arizona.

As things turned out, however, I watched the dedication in the Tucson Rincon Stake Center. A good friend gave me a handkerchief to wave during the Hosanna Shout, which I did wave as I joined in chorus with you and all others present that day to mark the sacred and momentous occasion. I was so grateful to be there.

Something else sacred and momentous happened earlier that day. My mother died. Having suffered a stroke in April, she finally succumbed to its after effects on the morning of June 27th, 2002 at a Tucson hospital. I was there with her when she passed on. I held her during her last living moments, placed my mouth near her left ear, reminded her of the many who loved her, and haltingly sang "God Be With You Till We Meet Again." I trusted that she could indeed hear me, and that somehow, my voice and the Spirit’s voice would comfort her during this time of passing—a time that she had feared for many years.

Symbolically anticipating her resurrection, prior to her burial, I placed the same handkerchief in Mom’s hand that I had used to join in the Hosanna Shout for the dedication of the Nauvoo Temple. Now, my hope is that you will grant me permission to complete my mother’s temple work for her in that very temple on June 27th, 2003—exactly one year from the day she passed away.

My mother, Yvonne Derelys Plaskett Sylvester, was baptized a member of the Church in approximately 1960. I was born in 1961. Though a convert, showing initial promise to fully embrace the gospel, Mom was offended by actions taken by her Bishop that involved me. She reported that because I was conceived out of wedlock, I was given a name and a blessing in the Bishop’s office, while another, presumably more deserving mother had her child blessed in front of the congregation. I do not know if this incident really happened as she said it did, but to her it was real and very hurtful. It gave her all the cause she needed to become disillusioned with the Church and to later leave it before developing a strong understanding and testimony of the gospel.

When I was about 14 years old, my mother again contacted the Church in Sparks, Nevada during a period of extreme difficulty. Eventually, she invited me to learn about the gospel from the missionaries. I had not known of the Church up to that point in my life, but as a result of our tenuous circumstances, I sought to please her and was soon baptized after having taken the discussions, though my participation lacked any evidence of personal interest or conviction.

My mother’s own testimony was weak during that time as well. Having suffered through the effects of years of alcoholism, she either began to drink again, or had never really quite stopped from the time she renewed her acquaintance with the Church. Within a few months of my own baptism, we hit the road yet another time. Approximately three years later, having traveled many miles through many states, and having experienced difficulties I can no longer remember in full, Mom was excommunicated. Though she attempted to regain her membership blessings within the first year or two of her excommunication, she never did prove a lasting commitment to the gospel.

In her latter years, I could discern Mom’s longing desires for a more gospel-centered life. I believe the Spirit tried to inspire her towards righteousness and peace, but Mom’s pride for past hurts kept her from seriously pursuing and understanding the gospel. And, while she had successfully overcome the addiction of alcohol a full ten years before she died, she was not so successful with overcoming tobacco, which addiction she fed constantly, beginning at age 15. To her credit, she quit smoking in full for approximately a year. Unfortunately, she began smoking again about nine months prior to her stroke. During the three months between her stroke and her death, she was free from the addiction of tobacco, but its effects had already become firmly and irrevocably manifested.

There is much more to my mother’s story that you may read if you wish from the pages of her eulogy, enclosed within. Basically, though, I will tell you that my mother had difficult beginnings that put her on a nomadic course through life, which continued to be fraught with difficulty. She made many poor choices of her own accord. She never quite figured out the truth of the gospel for herself in such a way that compelled and propelled comprehensive change, and which offered lasting peace.

Even so, she was intuitively a good women with a giving spirit about her. Many people enjoyed her company and her generosity under very financially humble circumstances. She genuinely loved others, and others loved her in return. She took comfort in priesthood blessings and had her life extended because of those blessings. She was grateful for prayers I offered before meals that we shared, and once—a very special once—she even offered a tender, vocal prayer herself in my presence. Though substantially weak, she exercised what faith she possessed, and overcame much in the process.

I trust that the Lord’s grace will indeed bridge the gap between where my mother left off in her spiritual journey and where the Lord is. I know that He will increase her understanding of truth, her sense of true belonging, and her ultimate rest and peace. It is my hope that you will feel she is prepared enough at this point to receive the opportunity to accept Temple ordinances that will restore her privileges and expand her eternal possibilities.

It is my understanding that one typically waits one year following the death of a loved one before making a request such as I am asking. However, given the symbolic circumstances and time period surrounding my mother’s death, and given the logistics of making travel arrangements and plans for such an event, I respectfully request that you proffer your decision much quicker than the typical request.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I am so appreciative of your service in my behalf. Your love for this work and your love for all people are wondrous to behold and strengthen me personally. I know you are led to do only that which is right and wise. Thus, whatever your decision, I will honor it with respect and a grateful heart.

Affectionately,

Jacqueline J. Hancock

Gratefully, authorization for baptism was indeed given. Nearly six years ago, I was baptized for my mother on the morning of June 27, 2003 in the Nauvoo Temple--not only one year exactly from the date of her passing, but almost one year to the hour as well.

It was a beautiful and peaceful day.

 

A photo I took of the Nauvoo Temple in June 2003