GOOD INTENTIONS

It isn't the torch that lights the way, but the flame.

It isn't the book that inspires, but the words.

It isn't the piano that makes the music, but the fingers.

It isn't the desire that helps another, but the deed.

One of my mother’s most often quoted phrases was ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.’ I don't see that there would be a lot gained from detailing the events of my young life which stimulated the frequent repetition of these words, but I do feel the lesson which eventually broke through my thicker than normal skull has served me well.

It isn't the seed that makes plants grow, but the planting.

It isn't the sun that multiplies the seed, but the nurturing.

It isn't the weeds that ruin the crop, but the lack of pulling.

It isn't the crop that fills our stomachs, but the harvest.

I spent two summer’s working on a ranch my Uncle Owen and his family were running for an owner who raised competition cattle. I think my mother and father had come to the conclusion that it would be a good thing for me to learn about work and nature in a more concentrated way than washing the dishes and mowing the lawn at home. One of Uncle Owens favorite sayings was ‘never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.’ Most of the time what he meant when he used the word ‘can’ in that sentence, he really meant ‘should’ of ‘must’. By the time I had finished my ranching apprenticeship the principle of doing things well and in a timely manner had been firmly planted in my soul.

It isn't the sewing that comes first, but the pattern.

It isn't the framing of the house which comes first, but the design.

It isn't the excelling of a talent which comes first, but the practice.

It isn't the book which comes first, but the hours of writing.

Between my junior and senior years of high school I secured a wonderful summer job with Morgan Gardner working in the trade of lathing. (I would have to take you through a lengthy history that is beyond the purpose of this thought to explain what lathing is, so you will just have to google it.) I suspect I will never know whether it was because I was dating his daughter, Shirley, at the time or because my father was the bishop of the ward we all attended, but anyway having this job financed most of my and eventually our needs and wants until I became a teacher in Educational System of the Church. Morgan’s main contribution to my maturation process was ‘every step must be done well and in its proper order’.

It isn't the nail that secures the board, but the arm which pounds the hammer.

It isn't the weather that ruins the wood, but the lack of the hand on the paint brush.

It isn't the bricks which secure a wall, but the layer applying cement and mortar

It isn't the shingles which make a roof, but the sweat of the installer.

I will never know if my parents had a master plan, but I am grateful for the way these events of my life unfolded and performed their molding upon my character. I am grateful to have learned about putting intentions into action, doing things in a timely manner and in proper order along with the multitudinous other lessons which found their mark.

It isn't the lessons that are taught that change us, but the ones we learn and apply.

It isn't the truths that change us, but the one we understand and live.

It isn't the years we are given, but what we do with those we are allotted.

It isn't the blessing we receive, but how we manage that stewardship.

Although the first of every year is usually reserved for setting new goals, I have discovered it to be a wonderful time to remember all that has happened which brought us to whatever point of life at which we might have arrived. Hopefully, as we are about remembering we will be stimulated towards accomplishing some of those resolutions recently made.

It isn't the torch that lights the way, but the flame.

It isn't the book that inspires, but the words.

It isn't the piano that makes the music, but the fingers.

It isn't the desire that helps another, but the deed.

THOUGHTS FOR A SABBATH DAY – WILLIAM L. RILEY

EDITED BY – KATHLEEN W. RILEY