Protection – In All Its Forms

2014 09 06_3895 Alan has been warned. As have several other people who I think might need to know.

“If I ever get cold and we’re in a situation where it’s impossible for me to get warm: Walk. Away.”

I am mean and cantankerous when I get cold. I will say things that I will regret {assuming I don’t die and if I remember saying them at all}. So, please, for everybody’s comfort and well-being:

“Walk. Away.”

Needless to say, I’m never far away from blankets and jackets to protect me from the cold and to protect whoever’s in close proximity from me.

When Alan leaves for meetings or camps that keep him away overnight, I have my rituals that I have to do – for protection. You know, blinds all shut, windows locked, doors at least double locked {if not triple locked} and chairs under all the doorknobs.

Yeah, you read right. The one that gets scoffed at the most is the chairs under the chair

Alan even put dead bolts on the doors to help me feel safer, thinking I would abandon the chair ritual. But. No. The chairs still have the2010 04 16 003ir place.

And I feel safe. I know in some spot in my core that this is not a method of sound protection that will be seen on any espionage movie. It’s honestly not going to keep anyone out who wants to get in bad enough. For heck sakes, I
have a dozen or more large windows on both levels of my home that would provide easy access; so I’m not fooling myself.

Maybe I am. But I continue to do it.


One night while camping, I ended up alone for a night. I used to spend time alone quite often. This time Alan is worried. Before leaving, he asks about what I have to protect myself. A gun in my backpack seem to soothe him and he leaves. I didn’t tell him I’m not comfortable with a loaded gun. Throwing the bullets at a perpetrator would probably do more harm than if I tried to load them in my gun and shoot.

“Excuse me, the one who is breaking into my trailer and invading my personal space, could you hold up right there for just a moment while I turn on the light, find my backpack and load my gun with ammo? Thank you ever so much!”

2016 07 03_0338So instead, when it’s finally too dark to feel comfortable walking around outside, I bring the shovel into the trailer. Strategically, it’s laid on the floor in front of the locked door, with the scoop part of the shovel up. In my mind, someone gets in the door, they’ll step on the shovel and the handle will come flying up and hit them in the head, conveniently knocking them out. Of course, they would naturally tumble backwards out of the trailer door and I would get up and shut and lock the door again. Sounds okay to me.

And, I slept like a baby. Safe. Protected.

I realize, whether in my trailer in the mountains or here in my home, sliding a chair up to a door or laying a shovel down on the floor is pretty simplistic, way too easy and slick. It would be a deterrent at best.

What about protection for our spiritual and emotional selves? Where are the chairs or the blankets or the shovels to protect from all the evil that is knocking at the doors of the hearts and souls and spirits of each of us? And our children? And our grandchildren? Pretty sure the world is not capable of making locks or security systems that the adversary can’t penetrate.

2010 04 16 007The Temples, the Sacrament, Personal Prayer, Scripture Reading, Family – each is another chair placed against my spiritual doors.

I’m grateful I have the Gospel and its principles to help me lock out all that junk the Adversary tries to push through any small crack he can find in my doors. And believe me, there are plenty of cracks! Need to perfect that Gospel Security System so I am just as confident that my spiritual doors are locked up as I am the wooden ones I’m sliding chairs up against.

And, honestly, what am I locking out and what am I locking in? The only difference, really, is which side of the door I’m standing on at the moment. But for now, I’m in and protected. And I want everything else out.

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