Happiest Place on Earth

The Happiest Place on Earth, besides our back yard...

We went to Disneyland yesterday. It was really fun! Except for the parts that weren't--

I should have known we were in for an interesting day when my five-year-old daughter said, "I want to go to Pharisee Land first!" From the mouth of babes...Of course, she meant Fantasy Land. And the first thing she wanted to do was ride the carousel. Should I have been concerned when her grip on my hand tightened more and more the closer we got to those scary painted horses impaled with a golden rod? She had picked out the pink and purple saddled horse, so we ran to it when the gate opened for our turn. I lifted her onto the pony's back and buckled her up. As soon as that merry-go-round started to move, things were no longer so merry. That horse began to rise up. "Hold my hand!" my daughter shouted. I held one hand while she gripped that golden rod of security as if it were the Iron rod itself and we were on a tour through the "mists of darkness" with Laban at the lead!

Well, the scary ride ended, and we were still in one piece. Then my husband suggested she go on the Indiana Jones ride. She has this strange passion for Indiana Jones movies, so he figured she'd love the ride. Twenty minutes of sobbing and three skeens of cotton candy later, she calmed down just enough to head to the haunted mansion. Even as I write this I question my own judgment and competance as a parent and guardian to this little angel. But it wasn't as bad as I feared (might be due to my hands over her eyes the whole time--she claims she is "all about scary," but I think she's thinking more along the line of Scooby Doo).

I'd finally learned my lesson and sent her off with her aunt to Toon Town while everyone else dragged me to Space mountain. Now, I can lecture for an entire Sunday school lesson on the dangers of peer pressure, but there I went, giving in to the pleadings of my sons, husband, and nieces. Another lesson to be learned after the fact. Well, we waited forEVER in line, and oh, how I wished we had had a fast pass. With a pass like that you just get a scheduled time to return and jump in at the head of the line. Each time I watched someone else fast pass in front of me it was like standing on the edge of the Red Carpet, watching the celebrities of Hollywood entering the secret place with the secret delicous food and the secret fabulous goody bag with an i-pad, Belgian chocolates, and a Fast Pass, while I stood on the sidewalk watching from behind velvet ropes dreaming of what the secret life is all about. But the schedule didn't work out, so we waited and waited with "sound effects" all around us like laser beams scratching against a chalk board (and why does everyone think aliens would sound like that? wouldn't horrible sounds in space still sound like horrible sounds?).

Well, I think all the waiting and anticipating made the ride that much more rewarding. Wait, did I just say rewarding? Well, I guess, because there is a sense of peace that comes from releasing all your pressures by serious primal screaming as you fly through darkness at a bajillion miles an hour. I suppose had I not had to wait, had I fast passed up to the front of the line I wouldn't have had the same satisfaction, the same relief , because the expectation wouldn't have built up so high.

I guess life is sort of like that--you can't just fast pass to the end, skipping all the hard and sticky stuff and just say "ok, I'm here where's the ice cream and eternal bubble bath?"

Sister Julie Beck said, “Heavenly Father loves His daughters. And because the reward at the end [of this life] is so glorious, we do not get a pass from the responsibilities we were given. We cannot give them away. They are our sacred duties, and we fulfill them under covenant.”

So instead of wondering how long the line is going to take, maybe I should just be making sure I'm in the right line. Sister Beck also said we should ask ourselves, “Am I aligned with the Lord’s vision of me and what He needs me to become?” Because I certainly don't want to go through my line only to find out at the end I was waiting for "It's a Small World" instead of "Space Mountian." Although the photo shot at the end certainly would look a little different!

The Higher Power of Oprah?

So, the “Rapture” didn’t happen, and I’m pretty sure I know why…Oprah wouldn’t have allowed it.

I can just picture her in her planning room with the beautiful lake view, the beautiful Collin Firth portraits, the down-filled floor pillows and all-you-can-eat chocolate covered deep-fried Snickers (now you know my dream-house plans), discussing the whole thing with her crew:

“You know, the Rapture is just going to have to be post-poned,” she says. "My show isn't over yet." She takes a sip of her acai-berry- green-tea-pomegranate-grass clippings soy milk shake. “The way I see it, I’ll be the first to go, so I’ll need to say good-bye and leave my legacy to comfort all those left behind. I couldn’t leave them without direction and some sort of closure.”

“You’ve got some spinach in your teeth,” says one of her camera men. He subtly puts his finger to his own mouth.

Oprah stares at him in silence. Everyone freezes.

“Off with his head!” she demands. “Of course, what will it matter in a few more days anyway?” Then she laughs. Naturally, everyone else does, too. “I’m kidding. Don’t cut off his head. Really.”

Well, clearly, we’re all still here, no Rapture. Because, yes, Oprah’s last show was recorded this week, but it doesn’t actually air until next week! So, I’m thinking I have another week to get my life in order and prepare to meet my Maker—and, although I have to admit she does seem to be the queen of make-over’s, I am still referring to God the Father as “Maker,” not the demi-goddess, Oprah.

So, thanks for a few more days. Here’s to a good week!