Our Failing Hearts

It's been many months now that the phrase "Men's hearts shall fail them"  has been floating in my mind.

"And all things shall be in commotion; and surely, men’s hearts shall fail them; for fear shall come upon all people."      

- Doctrine and Convenants 88:91

This scripture is referring to events leading up to the second coming (Christ coming to the earth again to rule and reign). It is a sign of the times in which we are now in.

For me, although the context is referring to fear taking over, I also feel it means that love is being lost. Love shall fail them. Love will cease to be sought after. Love will no longer thrive in the hearts of people.

Mocking death threats to an oppressive government. A family's tragedy turned guilt inflicting nightmare. Turning speculation into a voiced weapon of intentional harm. Instead of praising that a child's life was saved the focus is placed on the "unjust" death of the animal that would have killed him. The right to kill babies is not only legal, but strongly defended. Men's hearts are indeed failing them. Love and non-judgement is pridefully being paraded overtop a deceptive beast that's full of hatred, vanity, and finger-pointing.

It's everywhere. I even see it in myself.


Why we feel the need to be up to date with every detail in someone else's circumstance is saddening. It's almost as if we feel that if we knew every detail we would be justified in critiquing them. As if we're somehow exempt from the sin of judging others if we have bits of information in our hands for proof. As if in some way we could actually walk in another's shoes.

We can't.

We'll never know another's circumstance. No matter how much we've read about it. Watched the news over it. Or even visited with them personally about it. We'll never have a full account. There is only 2 people who will ever know another's experience and that is the individual and Christ through his ever-reaching atonement. Not us. Never us.

So what can we do? What can I do about my failing heart?

I can fill it with love. Love is what it needs to thrive. To sustain life within it. To keep it going.

"LOVE: Deep devotion and affection. Love for God includes devotion, adoration, reverence, tenderness, mercy, forgiveness, compassion, grace, service, gratitude, kindness. The greatest example of God’s love for his children is found in the infinite atonement of Jesus Christ."  -'Love' Guide to the Scriptures

"A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another". John 13:34

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love."1 John 4:18

I think actively loosing ourselves in serving others is the key to ensuring our hearts don't fail us.

I also think we need to be mindful of the circumstances that seem to cloud our heart with judgement. Whether it's when we're around certain people, certain places, or certain social media outlets.

Our hearts are depending on us. Will we fail them?

"May we ever choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong." 

- Pres. Thomas S. Monson 'Choices' talk

Heaven's slice is filling our hearts with love. 

The Dirt In Our Manes

Anybody's whose spent a good portion of their lives in an enclosed arena will definitely relate to that which this post is referring to.

You spend a better part of an hour or more chasing in calves, opening up shoots, warming up horses and chasing down decent shots for your loop to snare. 

You sit in stands watching how their runs play out and wait for your event to make it's show. 

You practise in quansits. 

It's the horse loving sport. The work, practise, and performance. 

And after it's all said and done and you exit it's stage with your horse in tow. 

Load him up or turn her out. It's over. 

And you eventually feel what has subtly settled onto your hair and eyelashes. 

Dirt. 

Good ol' dirt that's been kicked up and swirled about in the horse-work steam and cattle cry air. 

You can feel it's tangible texture as you touch your head and you can see it visibly on your eyelashes. 

I cherish that texture. 

It's so many childhood memories soaring through. Adolescences. 

From teenage angst. To young adulthood. To well, yesterday. 

For me that dirt hair feel brings more of a memory than a photo can convey. 

It may be an odd way of thinking. 

But it truly brings memories and more of myself into the experience than any device could try to capture. No matter how public I could make it on social media.

That dirt all tangled into my mane is a symbol of rodeo heritage for me. 

The dirt in our manes is beauty wild.

And I'm bestowing it onto her.

Heaven's slice is tangible textures that make memories linger.

Why This Blog Makes No Money

...

and never will.

Well firstly, there is no ads on it. So there's that reason.

Secondly, I feel this blog has too much personal depth in between all the silliness, and I just can't justify any reason to capitalize on it. I was prompted and inspired by powers beyond my own to start this and a lot of posts were written without my hands touching the keyboard so to speak. Even if what I write touches one soul, one individual, and that lone individual is just myself, then all the efforts made are worth it.

This blog is designed to promote. Not advertise. To promote that which is good. Good in myself and the good in life.

And hopefully this gives light to the good in your life as well.



Heaven's slice isn't in it for fame nor money.

When Pinterest DIY's Actually Turn Out

... it's because my husband did all the work.

Checkout my sweet necklace holder!!

To be fair though, I am the one who found the piece of wood, which is kind of the essence of the whole thing. Am I right?


Anyways.



Heaven's slice is being married to a handyman.

Sunday? ... Sunday!

Within the recent year, the church has put forward a 'campaign,' so-to-speak on making the sabbath day (Sundays) a more meaningful day in one's life. This talk in particular was kind-of the motivator for me to look at Sundays in a different light than I had been:

The Sabbath Is a Delight 

Click to watch/read it!

Within the talk, Elder Russel M. Nelson states:

I am intrigued by the words of Isaiah, who called the Sabbath “a delight.”1 Yet I wonder, is the Sabbath really a delight for you and for me? 

That question really hit me hard.

"Is the Sabbath really a delight for you?"

As much as I wanted to say yes to this question, I was hesitant in doing so. A delight? Sure, parts of it. All of it though? Umm...

I love going to church. Partaking of the sacrament, renewing/remembering covenants I made when I was baptized, listening to speakers giving talks from the heart on doctrine's personal play in their life, having questions posed in lessons that enforce me to search for my experiences with the matter, being taught gospel truths and how to apply them in our everyday dealings, seeing familiar faces, challenging my personal patience in enforcing my squirmy children to be reverent... I'm being totally honest here, I love it all. It's 3 hours of knowing that I am EXACTLY where I need to be, and it brings such peace to my soul. But then . . . it ends, and I'm left with the rest of an entire day that is supposed to be kept holy. Now what?

I've seemed to always have this weird equation in my head:  Sunday = No Fun

If it is fun, I can't do it, I shouldn't do it on Sunday. It probably stems from the fact that Sunday is a day of rest; of putting away physically exerting activities and work. So I got into a habit of being cooped up in the house watching lots of television on Sundays after church. I tried to make and find lists of things to do on Sundays that would be more appropriate, but they never stuck because most of the things on the list weren't anything that I had really desired to be doing in the first place. Most of them didn't sound "delightful" to me.

I made it my goal, my month's goal, to make Sundays (the whole day) a delight for myself. 

We actually had time one Sunday to take a photo prior to going to church! 
I feel like this was no short of a small Sunday miracle sent down because God could see me trying.

Activity - I eased myself into this by simply thinking of some sort of after church project/task planned in my head before Sunday came. These projects were something I had wanted to do on any day of the week, but I reserved them special for Sunday. They were either something spiritually energizing and edifying to myself, a sort of gift to another, or a combination of the two. Most of these activities revolved around writing, because well, that's where my 'delight' seems to be pulled towards. As I worked on these projects I started having a different, more positive attitude on Sundays, and looked more forward to this special day.

Resting - As Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest, of rejuvenation, it became apparent that not only strenuous physical exertion was to be avoided, but mental exertion too. I tried to steer clear of energy drainers on Sundays as often as I could, including Facebook scrolling and most television watching. It may not be this way for everybody, but for me, those things really drain my energy. I've come to know what sort of activities drain me and what fills me up. I love looking through the church's website lds.org and snooping around the things featured on their page, and well, Pinterest too.

Family - We walked to church as a family twice within the past month, and it was so enjoyable! Weirdest thing too, we were early! We live close enough that we probably shouldn't be driving, but it seems with how rushed we are getting ready, we drive, and are there just before the prelude music stops. Yet when we chose to walk on a couple warm mornings we were early, and it was filled with stress-less glory. Our big comfy couches were made for sunday family snuggles, and this has become a nice after-church setting to lay ourselves together in a rest. Also, we have good visits and catchups on these couches in what we learned from church and what the week ahead will entail as a family. 

Pancakes - Pancakes have become a sunday morning starter. It's really my hubby that started doing this one. The pancakes are so delicious, and only having them on Sundays makes our day feel a touch more special.

My husband -  Honestly he's the biggest attributer of making my sundays a delight. He takes such great care of our little one's the majority of the day. And as I do the simple mac and cheese meals on Sunday, he has the tendency of taking the kitchen over and creating something fancy and delicious. I couldn't thank this man enough, he's just the best.

I feel as this goal is a marathon, not a sprint, I am just enjoying the journey of finding my own way of making Sunday a delight. Filling the sabbath day with signs to God that I care, that I love Him, that I'm trying, and that I am grateful that he grants me this special holy day every week. 

Heaven's slice is His day.

Angry, Bitter, and Loved

God is the RULER of the UNIVERSE.

God is ALL-POWERFUL.

God is MIGHTY.

God is ALL-KNOWING.

God is a SUPREME BEING.

God is the BEGINNING and the END.

God is PERFECT.

But as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I just know him as a Father. My Heavenly Father. 

I've come to know him through acting on faith, through gospel study (scriptures), through taking in prophets words and council, but MOSTLY I've come to know him through prayer. Prayer has always been a big part of my life; an everyday must. And it is because of prayer I've come to know him as my father. A father who loves me. And a father who I love. Many labels can be given to me, as well as everyone else too, but when it comes down to the top label I would choose to display it would be a daughter of God.

Many parts of our lives hold deep pain, anger, confusion, and sadness. We want someone to just take it away. We want answers. We want relief. Sometimes we don't realize, that we can or should pray in those times of anger. Either we're scared of God's wrath or we simply want to deny his existence. I have found however, that it has been in those moments of outrage, of confusion, of negative emotions, where I have given the words of my griefs and reasoning in a prayer to him that I have perhaps felt even closer to him than in times of joy.

I am bitter. I am angry. But yet still, on my knees, with tears falling on folded arms, I feel loved.

My emotions don't magically transform, and quite often I don't even receive any sort of answer. 

No, I don't get my mountains moved away from my stead, I don't get a lightening bolt thrashed against my nemesis. But what I do get, is the sweet sanctuary of space to vent and the undeniable overwhelming-feeling, that I am heard. I am understood. And I am loved.

Heaven's slice is praying, even in times of anger.

Throne of a Mother

A familiar creak lies in the crooks of it's spring,
That brings such comfort in the deep of the night.
This is where I was rocked, held, and hugged.
And where many sleeps fought a good fight.
My mother sang songs and soothed many tears,
She rubbed tummies and spoke sweet sayings.
More than just a chair, for me it bore up
A nurturing heart with it's prayings.
Blessed and grateful, this chair is now mine,
Sitting in the corner as a baby room's staple.
I hold them close and kiss their sweet faces.
And I read to them many a fable.

This chair has held so much of love,
In it's thirty plus years with a mother.
It's the throne of a woman higher than a Queen,
And I hope it seats many another.




Heaven's slice wishes every nurturer (woman) a Happy Mother's Day!!