A Mormon Mother's Musings

The Piano Guys

2012-01-11T11:56:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned Jon Schmidt and Steve Nelson before, but I wanted to do it again. Because this is my blog, I can! :)

I knew both back in my high school days, as Jon was my Sunday School teacher, mentor and friend, while Steve was in my Orchestra class (can you guess what he played?). I don't know exactly when the two of them got together and began creating beautiful music, but the combination of two such fun, talented, inspiring musicians has truly been a gift from our Heavenly Father above.

They are now a part of The Piano Guys, though I think they may actually have formed it. I can't be certain. In any case, they have brought many fantastic videos of Jon and Steve, both separately and together. Their latest video on YouTube features Alex Boye, a brilliant artist.

I admire those who can create beautiful music. I envy them as well. Music has always been a major part of my life, though I'm not proficient in any instrument, nor even in singing. Fortunately for me, that doesn't hinder my ability to enjoy, be inspired by, and feel thrilled when a brilliant piece of music comes my way. This is one of those pieces.

Thank you Jon, Steve, and Alex, for sharing this incredible talent of yours.

Coldplay - Paradise (Peponi) African Style (Piano/Cello) Cover - The Piano Guys ft. Alex Boye

If you'd like to see more, click on The Piano Guys on YouTube for their YouTube page where you can access all their videos. If you like what you see, please pass this along. You can also visit their homepage at ThePianoGuys.com.

More from Jon Schmidt
More from Steven Sharp Nelson
More from Alex Boye

My Diet Coke Conundrum

2012-01-09T09:01:00.000-08:00

According to Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, the definition of conundrum is as follows: a riddle whose answer is or involves a pun; a question or problem having only a conjectural answer; an intricate and difficult problem.

After looking up the term 'conjectural' (fancy word for best guess) I've decided last part of the definition best suits my, uh, situation.

Several years (and kids) ago I stopped drinking all types of soda pop, as with each pregnancy I'd start to like less and less foods and drink. Soda especially turned my tummy upside down. I was doing pretty good too...until my last pregnancy hit. I was desperately sick and the only two things that EVER sounded good were the banana flavored Slurpee and Diet Coke.

My desire for Slurpee's ended with the birth of my youngest, but my love of Diet Coke did not. In fact, I'm quite certain I gained 20 pounds this last year because my love turned into an all out addiction. I'm really not kidding when I use the term addiction. While still draining one day's super-duper-double-triple-mega-awesome load of DC, I was all ready trying to figure out how to arrange my next 'fix' for the next day. It had to be sneaky otherwise it might look like I had a problem (oh no! I sucked up the last drop! There must be some more around here somewhere...).

The crazy thing is I needed the stuff as much for the tasty fix it provided as well as the manic spurts of energy it created. I could actually get things done around the house (and then some!) when I'd indulged. Therefore, in the addicted mind's logical way of thinking, drinking more was a good thing.

Right?

I knew it was getting bad when I'd stop in the local convenience store after dropping off the kids at school to get a giant cup of it, then not have a problem with going back later with my husband and getting another giant cup full. Every once in a while I'd start noticing the plastic bottles littering my side of the bed because I'd gotten too lazy to simply throw them out. It began to hit me - I was a Diet Coke-aholic!

Getting to the root of any addiction isn't easy, but mine was. I was tired. I was deeply tired all the time. Right down to the marrow of my bones tired. The problem wasn't depression, for I was sad or angry. I was, very simply, tired. So into the doctor I went, and the words I'd been dreading (hence my avoidance of my doctor) came directly out of his mouth: you need to go in an do a sleep apnea test.

NO! Say it ain't so!

Everyone I had ever talked to about taking the test would thrash their arms, and gnash their teeth and moan as though there was no tomorrow! Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but I was not looking forward to taking the test. I won't describe what happened (saving it for another post) but let's just say it was no where near as bad as I'd thought it would be.

What did surprise me, however, was an unexpected side effect from being on the CPAP machine for only 3 1/2 hours: I had energy to spare the rest of the week. In fact, I didn't even think about needing a nap until about five days later. It was amazing. AND - are you ready for this? - I didn't require Diet Coke to keep me going.

I KNOW!!! It was remarkable and exciting and exhilarating all wrapped up into a fantastic little energy ball. With this knowledge of what could be awaiting me I decided with the New Year there would be no more Diet Coke for me.

It's been a week. I'm in dire need of a fix!!! Even now I'm sitting at my computer knowing there is so much I need to get done and yet I have no energy to do it. I have projects that have been sitting around forEVER, and they will continue to do so. Why? Because I'm trying to be a good girl and not drink Diet Coke.

Funny thing is I'm not having withdrawals as I'd expected: no nasty headaches, no shaking, no crawling up the walls or periodic fits of hysterical crying. Instead there is simply the intense desire for enough energy to make it through the morning and pretend like I did something.

What I didn't count on was how long the process of going from the sleep test to actually getting the machine would be. It's closing in on a month and to my knowledge the doctors from the sleep clinic haven't even gone over my results yet. Then there's the part where I consult with my own doctor, and then we have to get together with the insurance company as well as the company that provides the equipment. What I thought could be done in two weeks or so might actually take up to two or three months.

In the meantime, I'm in agony as to what to do. Do I stick with my goal of no Diet Coke and simply suffer until things are worked out and I'm sleeping better at night? Or do I give in for now and wait until I'm on the machine in the hopes I can function better than I am right now? On the one hand I feel as though I'm giving in to my addiction and giving up on my goal, on the other hand I feel as though I'm giving myself a chance to do what I need to get done until the means to get off the Diet Coke is available.

Do you see what I mean by the Diet Coke conundrum?

My Big Lessons from 2011

2012-01-01T13:20:00.001-08:00

Looking back on this last year does not fill me with joy. I don't know that I could count on one hand any super-duper moments that have left me saying, "Well, at least there was the time when...". Okay, okay. There were some great times, but even those great times came at a price.

For me, 2011 was a learning year, and there were some hard lessons being taught not only to me but also those I deeply love. It's made me think back to a dream I had a few years ago before my husband was called as a Mormon bishop.A woman had knocked on my door. I was late it getting to it and she was halfway down our walkway when a giant storm hit. I beckoned her to come in and be safe. My husband wasn't there, as he was out helping those in need, so it was my responsibility to care for and comfort our children and this woman whom we had taken in. The storm raged outside, but we remained safe. When the storm at last passed we looked outside to assess the damage. It was horrible. Our home, I noticed right away, had not been touched.

I am a firm believer that God gives us dreams at times as a way to warn, to comfort, and to give instruction. Almost four years later this dream has come to represent the roles my husband and I were to play as well as the promise that even through the storm our home and those in it would be kept safe. The last few years have tested and tried my husband and I in ways I never thought possible. Yet this year was different, for this year I found myself finally learning a few lessons from the things we've been asked to accomplish and endure.Here are some of the things I've learned.

1. Things don't always go as planned, and so we need to be flexible. I was invited to join a small group of women who worked to create a story for the local teenage girls in our area we are over. The story was truly inspired of God and I feel so privileged to have written it. We had planned to have it read at girl's camp in different sections each night. Things were coming together beautifully, and then life hit. The area we were to have camp had not dried enough from the previous winter enough to allow us entrance. It was horrible. Everything fell apart. We felt helpless, and even hopeless, as we tried to figure out what to do.

It was decided the camp needed to be split up into the different congregations (also called wards) and done on a smaller basis. At first those of us involved in the presidencies of the wards felt overwhelmed, but then the most amazing things began to happen. Stories from all over filtered in about how little miracles were taking place in making sure camp still happened. In our own ward we not only had a place open up, but there were experiences which taught our girls the difference between being 'in' the world verses being 'of' the world in ways we leaders could never have hoped to help them learn. We discovered what it truly meant to bend our own desires to the will of the Lord.

2. Just because it's down on paper doesn't mean that's how it'll go. A big part of being in a presidency - no matter whom you may be over - is the ability to plan ahead. It rarely does any good to talk about doing things without writing them down and planning them out. Our ward Young Women's presidency has taken this to heart. Every other month or so we try to get together to make plans for activities and things over the coming months. We were feeling especially good about this just a few months ago as we managed to plan for a half year of weekly activities. On paper we looked major organized and on top of things. Once again, life hit. Nothing we'd planned happened. There were three deaths in a matter of three weeks in our ward. As my husband is the bishop it became his responsibility to be over these funerals - which not only take up a lot of time but is physically and emotionally draining.

At this same time other crazy things were happening to the members of our presidency. One woman had to have surgery. Another was desperately looking for a job. And another ended up having her baby almost 6 weeks early. We were unable to accomplish so many of the things we'd planned. It was frustrating and discouraging. Several activities in a row had to be cancelled. Many times over I had to remind myself it was not the end of the world.

3. If you don't make the time for spiritual things, you'll never find the time. The older our kids get the crazier our schedules become. The kids get home from school and immediately want some down time playing games or spending time with friends or being on the computer. Dinner time comes and then the dishes need to be washed. Afterward is homework until it's done, an act which (depending on the child) can take hours. Soon enough it's bedtime. What was missing? Scripture reading. We used to be fantastic when it came to reading the scriptures. It was every night right after dinner. But soon we were hit with youth activities for M and myself, my husband being called out at all hours for ward members in need, and scouts for the boys. It didn't take long, I am sorry to say, for us to get out of the habit. All of these things are good things we're doing, but we've been failing in our home, and that is one place we cannot afford to fail.

Of course, finding the time to make it happen means sacrifice. Maybe friends or computer time or even homework will have to wait for something far more important and far more fulfilling.

4. If we don't take care of ourselves, the Lord will make us. In my last post I wrote about my husband being sick. We didn't realize just how sick he was until the next day at work when he noticed one of his legs began to hurt just to walk on it. He lifted up the leg of his pants to find the front of his calf red and swollen. Being a diabetic he knew it was necessary to get it checked out immediately, as the feet and legs are typically the first things to be affected. Later that day we found out he had an infection called Cellulitis, one that is fast acting and usually manages to place it's victims in the hospital on an iv drop. We had caught it early enough so a trip to the hospital was not necessary, but it did mean he needed to stay off of his leg for about a week.

Those who know my husband will quickly realize how torturous that was for him. He is a physically active man and does not take kindly to being kept down. I had to chuckle, however, as the same comment kept coming from family and friends: "I'm so sorry he's sick, but at the same time I'm glad he gets to rest." My husband will work himself to exhaustion doing all he can for Heavenly Father's children. Though he hated being made to sit down and do nothing for several days, it was obviously needed. And if he wouldn't do what was necessary to allow his mortal body to rest so he might still be of service, the Lord made certain he did.

5. People have to go through tough times. They just do. And sometimes the hardest thing we can do is let them. I have watched so many of our beloved friends and ward members go through excruciating things in the last year. All I have wanted to do was make it better. I wanted to bring them into my home and out of the storm. If there was a way to make the pain go away I wished for it to happen. But that is not the Lord's plan. I know this. I've known it most of my life. I know and understand it more and more as the years drift by. Yet knowing it does not make watching others learn it easier. I cannot take their pain away, but I don't have to. The Lord all ready suffered for it. I can, however, take them in my arms and help support them when it gets too hard to hold themselves up. And this leads me to the greatest lesson I've learned this year.

6. We have to trust in the Lord, and faith is key. All the knowledge in the world does us no good when it comes to putting the things we've learned into action. More than once this year have I found myself at the end of my rope, unable to give, with no idea what to do next. It has been at these points where I have had to lay all the problems down at the feet of the Lord and say, "Help." And He has. I have found peace when needed. Fears and troubles have been placed at bay so I might continue on. When I have been weak and unable to stand on my own two feet He has been there to lift me up.

I have found myself needing to trust in Him more than myself, but also trust He will work His works through me. It's difficult for me to express all that this means to me, nor the intricacies of the knowledge this brings. I cannot begin to tell you how humble I feel, knowing the difference between how much I can do on my own and how much I can do with Him. My faith has grown this year.

I am happy to leave behind 2011. It was not an easy year. Yet I would not trade anything that happened it in for easier times. If I were to do that I would lose all the blessings and knowledge I have gained. For this I am grateful to a loving Father and Brother who have been by my side over the last twelve months...well, really my whole life. While I pray for a time of peace in 2012, I know if this is not meant to be I will still be okay in my little house, regardless of how the storm may rage.

The Worth of One Soul

2011-12-11T13:51:00.000-08:00

My husband is sick. In our own little family this is enough to set everyone into a tizzy. He rarely gets sick, and definitely not with fever chills and body aches. He even opted to stay home from church today - also a rare occurrence.

In and of itself this may not seem like a big deal, but my husband is not just your ordinary church-goer (if there is such a thing as an ordinary church-goer). You see, he is a bishop over a ward in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (also known as the Mormon Church). He is the figurative father of a local congregation, or ward. He is their spiritual leader. And today he was greatly missed.

As news of his nasty sickness spread throughout the meeting person after person came up to ask me about him. Was he okay? How was he feeling? Was there anything they could do? Wish after wish for a speedy recovery was pressed upon me to pass along to him. Much love was expressed, and promises of prayers being offered in his behalf. Even as my heart grew warm with the utter love and concern shown for him, I knew there was no way even I - a self-proclaimed artist with words - would be able to let him know just how much he was missed, and how much the people he has served over the last four years loved him.

One person. Just one person has had an amazing effect on a group of people. I began to think throughout the day about how precious a single individual can be to another, especially as that was what our lesson in young women's was on today. What are we doing to personally enrich the lives of those around us, to make that relationship between ourselves and those with whom we come in contact a little more meaningful.

My husband is extremely service oriented. If someone is in need he is the first one to jump up and say, "I will help." At times I worry he doesn't know how to say no, but over the years I have recognized in him a need to never look back and say, "I should have..." I honestly believe that is why he's so sick today - his body simply couldn't keep up with his willing heart.

When we serve those around us there becomes a softening in the relationship, for we are putting our needs away for a time to focus instead of another soul in need. It is one of the ultimate ways for us to truly come to know Christ and how He lived His life, for there is no better example of loving service than that of our Savior.

My husband has learned to be a fantastic listener. He knows when to offer advice and when someone simply needs to talk. He has learned to approach people he doesn't know and welcome them with open arms. He has been a shoulder to cry on, an arm upon which others lean, and a trusted voice of reason. His hands have joined others in giving blessings to those who are sick or otherwise afflicted, those who mourn, and those who simply need words of guidance and comfort from their Heavenly Father. He is loved by those he has served in ways he will never comprehend.

Of course, were a person to say any of this to his face, he would deny it all, unable to see what good he has done. As we all tend to do with ourselves, he constantly berates himself for never doing enough, for never being enough, and for looking more on negatives than positives. And at times this idea makes him try to be every thing to every body, which means he burns out - like today. For myself, though I hate to see him sick, I am grateful it forces him to stop and focus on himself and his need to rest. This same sentiment was echoed many times over today by different members of his congregation.

I know the difference this wonderful man has made in the lives of others, even if he doesn't always see it himself. I even know there are those out there who love me more than words can say. I also know it is because of the love we try to give in various ways that we receive this love back. We are not perfect, not by any means, but we keep trying.

I ask for you to take some time out of incredibly busy schedules, find just one person, and begin to express your love for them in little ways. Pray for them. Pray for ways of expressing love to be shown to you. Write a friend a little note saying what you admire about him/her. Do the dishes for your mom. Take the trash out for your dad. Make your husband's favorite dinner. Offer to take your wife out so she doesn't have to cook. Spend some quality time reading a book with your child. The possibilities are endless.

I love my husband. I am grateful he is taking time out to sleep today, to rest and recover. I also hope he'll get better fast, for I know what a crazy few weeks he has with work and church. I am incredibly proud of the man he is, for his willingness to serve both our family and our ward family. He constantly reminds me of what I need to do to be a better person, even if I do it whining a lot of the way. I only hope one day he will be able to know how much the love he has given is returned.

"Our" Flood

2011-11-27T22:39:00.000-08:00

Saturday morning my kids came running into my room. "Mom! Mom! A pipe burst and now our back yard is flooded!" Um...uh...huh? I am not exactly known as the world's brightest coin first thing in the morning, and that day was no exception. It took a few minutes for my fuzzy, sleep-induced brain to wake up and figure out something might be wrong.

Sure enough, the faucets wouldn't turn on, and in the back yard I could see a giant swamp attempting to take over the back portion by the fence. Not until going outside to really assess the damage did I come to realize this wasn't just out house. A pipe down the street had burst, causing a river of water to course through a portion of our neighborhood.

Just outside my house a few firefighters and city workers collected in a circle, trying to figure out what was going on and what to do next. After making arrangements for me and the kids to go potty elsewhere, we began to assess the damage to our own home. We weren't too concerned until word that a few of the homes' crawl spaces were beginning to fill with water. Sure enough, so was ours. I think with the rising sun and warming of the land, the water began to find places to go besides six inches above ground.

Here's a picture of our crawl space. We didn't have too much water at the hole itself, but it had gathered several inches in one particular corner. My hubby set up a water pump where we attached our blue hose and threaded it through the kitchen, into the living room and out the front door.

Here we are coming out the front door, with little Miss A's mildly muddy shoes. She couldn't seem to stop wanting to come out into the action. While with daddy she got to sit in the front of a fire truck! Good times. Too bad on the way back to the house she slipped and landed in mud - and with all the water sitting outside the house, rather than inside the pipes, getting her cleaned up wasn't the funnest activity ever.
Turned out the blue hose wasn't long enough, so we had to bring in the green one too. This managed to make it out to the gutter, where we lovingly added to the all ready gushing stream.

Here's a small sampling of our 'almost swamp.' I kept thinking, if it froze, we'd have an awesome ice skating rink! But if you think this is bad, wait until the next picture.

My next door neighbor is an avid gardner. What you're seeing here should actually be the recently cleaned up and immaculate garden area. Instead, I could have sent the kids in for a pretty awesome mud bath. Those from the city working to help with the damage had to bring in a big pump to get rid of this water into the park behind our houses. As this water diminished, so did ours. Ah well. No ice rink this year.

I wanted to take loads more pictures of everything, but when a worker came up to me asking if everything was okay and that they hadn't personally done any damage to our home, I realized I was making everyone nervous. But I still got two cool shots out of it. This first one is the little 'waves' of mud running up the length of our driveway. It still makes me sad to think of the awesome pictures I could have taken while it was "fresh."

Here's the muddy mess at the end of our driveway. I think it looks amazing! Granted, I'm not looking forward to cleaning it up, but hey, I know an awesome display of the force of nature when I see one.

All in all it wasn't the best way to begin what was supposed to be a relaxing Saturday, but I do have to give props out to those who worked so hard to fix it all. The pipes were fixed and water returned to homes by early afternoon. Some of the men stayed until after the sun set in an effort to help make sure certain homes were properly cared for. Thanks guys!

The Reason Behind the Season

2011-11-24T13:05:00.001-08:00

Hello friends. It's been a few months since I last sat down to write here, and I thought on this most beloved Thanksgiving Day, the one that begins the holiday season, I would take a few minutes to leave you with a few messages about this time of year.

I am one of those die-hard believers that every holiday deserves it's due, which is why I have such a hard time with the few weeks that separate Halloween and America's Thanksgiving celebration. Before Halloween is even over the shelves at stores are first emptied and then filled with Christmas decorations.

Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas decorations. Just not before Thanksgiving. I love Christmas music. Just not before Thanksgiving. I love the thought of buying presents for my family. Okay I'll do that before Thanksgiving, but I don't go crazy with it.

In the same way I don't like to hurry through our Thanksgiving holiday, I'm not one to simply shove aside the real reason we celebrate Christmas. It's not easy. I myself can be said to have had an attack of the "gimme's" here and there, especially when some of the latest and greatest gadgets flash across the screen or stare at you screaming "you really want me!" as you walk down the aisles of the store. And in that moment, I really, really do want whatever it is. Passionately.

This is when I must take a step back and remember. Today we celebrate being thankful, a truly God-like quality. I am thankful, for everything my life has been blessed with. Even the rough things, for they teach me my greatest lessons. As I begin to count my blessings I remember who made this wonderful life of mine possible, and that is when I remember the real reason behind this season.

A week ago I was invited to participate in a presentation put on by our Relief Society (the women's organization of my church), wherein the people invited would go on a walk with Christ. There were three presenters. One portrayed Peter the Apostle, one portrayed Nephi - a prophet who witnessed Christ's arrival in the America's as written in the Book of Mormon, and for myself, I was given the chance to portray the Samaratin woman Christ met at Jacob's well.

I studied up on my person, finding several books at the library, reading through the Bible passage several times, and using the ultimate guide to interpreting what this woman experienced - prayer. I put together a simple costume, decorated my room accordingly, and sweated bullets until it was my turn. I could hear the first group shuffle in and take their seats, and when all became quiet I entered as though coming from the door flap of my home. It was then I left what was meant to be said up to the inspiration of God.

We were invited by the closing speaker to take the messages shared with us through each presentation home, to ponder upon them, and to remember them as we began the holiday season. It was a remarkable way to begin it all, as it has brought home the need to make Christ central to each day, especially at this time of the year.

I realize not everyone who may read this believes in Jesus Christ as our Savior. I also know many who read this believe the members of my Church do not really believe in Jesus Christ. But I also know this - the only person to whom I am responsible to when it comes to my beliefs is that man whom they revolve around: Jesus of Nazareth, born in Bethlehem. He who walked and talked among all people alike. He was no respector of persons. He knew sinner and saint and believed them all to be special and worthy of His time and effort. Him I believe. Him I love. Him I strive to be like. And in His name I invite you to make him the reason behind this season, beginning with the simple task of being thankful.

Contemplations

2011-08-02T12:56:00.000-07:00

Life has been...intense these last several months. Always something going on, always someone wanting to talk, always somewhere we need to be. I've been trying to take steps to calm things down, lessen the stress, but removing things from the schedule has only presented open slots ready to be filled by something else.

I have become withdrawn, seeking comfort in my own presence and those I hold dearest to my heart. My thoughts have been my greatest and worst companions, depending on what track they choose to run at any given time. I am being prepared - for what only God can say. I find myself drawn to books on the Savior and His apostles of old.

The New Testament has been calling my name for quite some time, though I am sorry to say it's only been recently that I have begun my study. Before this I had picked up some books to help me better understand the conditions surrounding the time of Christ. They have opened my eyes just a bit wider, helping me see a little more of the bigger picture, and how small I am in comparison. Small, yet significant.

I often feel out of place, as though I am reserved to sit just outside of the puzzle, a piece that looks as though it matches in color and shape, but never seems to fit exactly right. Whenever I come to believe at last I've discovered which pieces are supposed to surround me, which are the perfect fit, it turns out there's another puzzle I might be a part of and another puzzle piece that fits in my former spot far better than I could ever have done. I am always sad to leave behind these magnificent puzzles as I have grown to know and love each individual piece so well. It's much like leaving family behind.

Yet I must always move on. The Lord has work for me to do, work that is normally preceded by a time of study and contemplation as is happening now. I do not know what is coming. I know not what it will entail. I do know there would be no hope of me being successful without His help. Maybe, just maybe, I am led to study up on Him so I might come to know Him better, in the hopes I will be able to help others understand Him better.

I have written a story, one I have mentioned before. In my humble opinion it is perhaps the best of my life thus far. It is no literary masterpiece. Grammar and punctuation errors abound. There is no doubt others could have written it with more feeling, more power, and more depth. But this story was not for anyone else to write. My Heavenly Father said to me, "This story was reserved for you to bring forth at this time." There are experiences I have had, people I have been placed with, and times I have been asked to endure that have worked to prepare me for this one beautiful piece.

As we speak this story has been sent to a printer. It will be put together for all the young women of my stake, and next Wednesday I will read it to all who come and with open hearts and ears listen to the words I have to share. This is the beginning of a new stage in my life, something which the Lord and Heavenly Father have been preparing me for over the last several years.

I still have much learning to do, both in life and in writing, but this is what life is all about - taking the opportunities to live and learn and grow. I am grateful for my life, even hard times. Especially the hard times. For I know it is during the hardest times of our lives we are able to learn the most. I can only pray His hand will ever be there to guide me, and that I will remember to hold on tight.

Lessons in Faith, Trust, Humility, and ... More Faith

2011-06-13T10:37:00.000-07:00

A few months ago I received an e-mail from our Stake Young Women's president asking me to be a part of a very small group put together for the purpose of coming up with a spiritual activity for our Girl's Camp, which was to be held on the stake level this year.

(Allow me to pause and explain for those who may not understand. Think of a collection of local church congregations - which we call "ward", and then those wards being placed in a group under the leadership of a presidency. That group is known as a stake. Any "stake" leaders mentioned are members of wards called to help lead and direct different Church programs like Young Women's, who are girls from 12-18 years of age.)

I felt honored to be asked, but little did I know how much of myself would be put into this one particular project. What was supposed to be a twenty-minute story to help illustrate how each young woman is a beloved princess who must make choices in this life, choices that will either keep her on God's path back to His kingdom, or lead her off the path, well, let's just say it's now a good 40 pages long.

I have felt beyond inspired while writing this story. I have felt words flow through my mind that were not my own. The main character made choices I ached over until tears could not be stopped. Were it my choice, she would have never fallen off the path, but that is why this is not my story.

Things were going well in the planning of this camp. Though not a part of the planning committee I certainly felt an avid interest in all that was going on. I was fully aware of the major concern behind our crazy weather this year, and the fact that getting up to the camp site was looking almost impossible, as rain and melting snow had washed out many of the roads.

What I had not seen coming was the decision of our stake presidency to cancel camp at a stake level and ask the wards to take over. After all the planning, praying, and trust that things would work out, it was simply...done.

My husband and our stake YW's pres. had to remind me this morning that these men are inspired of God. They did what they thought was necessary. It was not done on a whim. There was much prayer going into it. But, I cannot help asking, where does that leave us?

The truth is we don't know. So many of the leaders I've spoken to over the last few months have all agreed: something amazing is being prepared for these girls. I have felt more than once if we don't reach many of these girls on a spiritual level this year, we may lose them to the influences of the world.

I have had many thoughts running through my head today. Some I wonder if they are my own stubborn need to fix everything. Or is there any chance they are thoughts being given to me by my Savior, though I haven't figured out how to make them all fit into this gigantic puzzle placed in my path.

It has only been in the last few minutes, and after many e-mails with our beloved stake yw's president, that enough of the puzzle pieces have been put into place to allow us peace. The first piece is my reminder that I do not need to fix everything. Actually, let's make that a whole lot of pieces to my puzzle. I don't have to fix it all. I do not have all the answers. I have not been put in charge. It's time to humble myself once more and keep in mind the Lord is ultimately over this, and that brings us to the next few pieces of the puzzle.

Trust. We must trust that even though it looks as though everything is falling apart, this may not be the case. Who knows what the Lord has in mind at this time? Who knows what he has helped us prepare for, even though we may not be able to see how this puzzle will, in fact, come together?

How much do I trust in my stake leaders? How much do I trust we on the ward level are every bit as inspired and deserving of inspiration when it comes to the lives of these young women placed in our care? How much do I trust in the Lord's ability to make a frustrating situation turn into a wonderful blessing? How much do I trust? And that brings us to our last handful of pieces.

Faith. Oh that one little word. It is not something we automatically have. It is something we do. Now is the time for all of us who are leaders to put faith into action. We will place our faith in the Lord, he who directs this wonderful Church, who inspires all who are willing to listen, right down to the leaders of the ward, and see what blessings will come.

We will be humble, we will trust, and we will show faith. And at the end, when we have proven ourselves worthy to take on and accomplish this challenge, we will be blessed. Our story, the one we are living at this moment, will have a happy ending.

Finding Purpose

2011-05-25T11:29:00.000-07:00

I am the sort of individual who needs to have a purpose in life - something to work towards, put my energy into. Having recently finished a writing project I'd been asked to do, the last week has left me feeling a bit listless (this typically happens after I've finished a big project).

If you read my last post, you know I've been trying to re-sort my priorities. Over the last few months I've been given several opportunities to attend the temple, but there have been too many worldly (and sacred) things that I have allowed to take first place. As children are preparing to get out of school for the summer it hit me quite hard that my opportunities would lessen with the kids home.

This morning I took firm hold of the free time I'd been blessed with and headed off to the temple. I spent two absolutely beautiful hours there, and had a good "chat" with my Heavenly Father, thanking Him for so many good things that have happened lately as well as asking for some help.

More than anything today I wanted to know what my purpose needed to be for the next little while. I've been doubting so many things - one of the biggest being whether or not I am truly supposed to be in our Young Women's presidency. I'm not over anything specific, like preparing and giving lessons, monitoring personal progress, nor even making lists. Without something specific to do I have begun to wonder what my purpose in this program is supposed to be.

Along with my questions there I have also wondered what I needed to be doing as the wife of a bishop. Talk about someone with purpose - he's got so much it's oozing out his ears. But what about me? I often find myself stuck in this funny middle ground where I'm either expected to do everything, or absolutely nothing.

Today as I finished my prayer and began to put some things away before changing out of my temple clothes, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see a darling little woman with beautiful white hair and a name tag that read "Sister Adair" (I think). In a sweet voice she asked, "May I give you a hug?" Of course I said yes! We embraced in a way that easily spoke love, offered one another thanks and farewells, then I watched as she spoke with another temple patron before turning the corner. I didn't see her again as I left.

Into my heart came the most beautiful feeling of utter happiness. That is your purpose it said to me, and I rejoiced. For if there is anything I can do with gusto, it's show love. Whether I am a bishop's wife, a young women's leader, a mom, a daughter, a wife, or a friend, one thing I can do in any role is to show pure love to those with whom I come in contact. I can show them one tiny little glimpse of the love our Father and Brother have for each one. Just as this sister was an angel to me today, I can be as such for someone else.

I have found my purpose.

Uncooked Rice and Plastic Eggs

2011-05-17T20:39:00.001-07:00

No, I promise, this is not going to be a post about some weird recipe I found. This past Sunday a gentleman gave a talk in Sacrament Meeting and gave us an example of something I'd like to share with you today, as it's had me rethinking where my priorities may be skewed.

Think of a jar - large or small, doesn't matter. The jar is empty and the lid is off. Now think of two bowls. One bowl holds some uncooked rice, while the other contains some of those plastic Easter eggs (though this has nothing to do with Easter). Our goal is to fill the jar with both the rice and the eggs, and still be able to put the lid on when everything is filled.

First we put in the rice. It manages to fill our jar to a little over half. Next we take our plastic eggs and begin to stuff them into the jar. It doesn't take us long to realize we're not going to get all the eggs in. Way can try to stuff them in, but eventually they begin to crack and break. Nor will we be able to get the lid back on.

Knowing we need to rethink things we take the eggs back out of the jar and put them back in their bowl, and do the same with the rice. Being the absolutely brilliant beings I know we all are, this time we try putting in the eggs first. They fit perfectly into the bottle, but now is the true test. We take our bowl of rice and begin to pour it over our plastic eggs. To our amazement each individual piece of rice finds a little nook or slot to make a home. Sometimes we might have to shake the bottle to help everything find a place, but before we know it not only is there room for eggs and rice, but the lid fits on top as well.

Think of the eggs as the spiritual things in our lives, while the rice represents those things of the world that are necessary to keep us going, or we would just like to do. When we try to fit in all the secular things, we rarely have room for the spiritual. However, if we put the spiritual first, everything else will find it's place.

Life has been chaotic lately, not only for me but for so many I know. For myself, I have come to realize I've gained a recent "poor me" attitude. I've been so busy trying to take care of so many things for so many other people, my own spiritual needs have been slipping through the cracks. In other words, I've been filling my jar with rice.

This isn't to say the things I've been involved with have been unworthy causes. These activities and service provided certainly have merit. But when I begin to feel as though I'm being stretched too thin, the words of the counselor I saw last year starts running through my mind: you can't take care of others if you're not taking care of yourself.

And so I am forced to look at just how I am living my life lately. Here's what I've come to realize: no matter how fortified in vitamins and minerals, one cannot make it through an entire day on a bowl of cereal. Time to start eating better; even if the distance from the front porch to the mailbox feels like a mile, it does not count as a full day's exercise. Time to get moving; and no matter how much I ignore the laundry or attempt to master (or at least develop) the art of telekinesis, the laundry and bathroom simply will not do themselves. Time to get the house clean.

These are not difficult things to do. I managed a few loads of laundry today. My biggest problem is in recognizing where I really need to start. Reading the scriptures daily. I'm horrible at this. I can look and look and look at my Bible or Book of Mormon all day long, but it will do me know good unless I actually open them up and read the words. I need to pray more often. A few halfhearted sentences at the end of a very long day don't do me, nor my Heavenly Father, a whole lot of good. I need to begin my day with prayer, and keep a prayer constantly in my heart. I need to remember to ask for what I want and need. I'm fantastic about allowing things to happen as the Lord sees fit, but I always forget to ask in prayer for those things I want. And a request never sent out will simply not be fulfilled. Even if the request is for one little hour in which to read a book of my own choosing.

It is in the spiritual areas I need to focus on first. When I build up my spiritual reserves, the physical, emotional, and mental reserves will find themselves filled as well. All other things will naturally fall into place. I might have to shake things up a little for all my wants and needs to find a perfect fit, but it can be done.

So how about it? Is it time for you to take out your eggs and rice, and see where things really need to fit?

The Little Things

2011-05-02T09:00:00.001-07:00

I have just returned from mowing my front lawn. This may not seem like something I should be boasting about. People have been mowing their front lawns for many a year before I was born. This one particular responsibility is not typically mine, however, and so the mere fact that I got outside to do something physical is in itself, noteworthy.

Since my extreme bout with depression many of the things I used to do with dedication fell to the wayside. Even as I am doing so much better there are certain things I have not been able to push myself to do. For example, the checkbook. I used to monitor the checkbook on a weekly basis. Any receipts would be promptly accounted for. Checks were cataloged. And the balance would be compared to what the bank actually claimed we still had. I could tell you within a few dollars just how much we had to spend. And once a month I would carefully reconcile all accounts.

For the last several months my husband has had to take over this job. I don't know what has changed so much, but the moment I would sit down to take care of things, like a trigger my mind would immediately rebel and I could not physically make myself do it. I hated to admit this, as my darling hubby had already needed to take over so many other things, but he knew and without a word he began to do what I could not.

Over the last few days I've been thinking about the little things we do to tell those we love the most just how precious they are. My children often utter the words, "You're the best", making my heart squeeze with joy. In return I've been trying to be better about finding little ways to let them know they're the best in my eyes. It's not always easy, as it means an awful lot of sacrifice on my part, but I can wholeheartedly testify it has been worth it.

This morning I have found myself with what my family has coined, "Mom's alone time." I've been trying to decide just how to spend it. There's definitely not a lack of things I could/should be doing. In fact there are about thirty things I should be doing besides sitting at the computer boring you all with my random thoughts.

I sat down to write today for one really big reason: I love my husband. And because I love him I chose to mow the front lawn so he wouldn't have to. It will be one less worry for the week. He has taken on so much to help me through some very difficult times - and that's not including all he's facing at work and church. But he's done it because he loves me as well. That's one of the most wonderful aspects of showing love: it's give and take.

I cooked dinner for my family last night. My hubby washed most of the dishes, then Mr. B took over and did the rest of the dishes. Miss M helped me to accomplish some things with our family home evening last night and Mr. J tidied up the living room. And what of Miss A? Well, she gives the best hugs ever.

Love is a wonderful thing, but those around us may not know we love them unless we put those four little letters into action. Don't just say the words. Live the words. Your actions don't have to be grand gestures. Sometimes the biggest ways in which we feel loved, are due to the little things.

Thoughts on Easter

2011-04-17T13:35:00.000-07:00

(I would like to start this out with a warning - blogger is NOT being nice and has erased all paragraphs. Sorry if it makes things confusing.) Did you think I had vanished from the blogging world? Me too for a while. Life had gone from sorta dull to over-busy. It seems as though I can't find any middle ground these days. At this moment I have completed the first draft of one major project and can sit back for a moment to heave a huge sigh of relief. Easter is one week away. I have always loved this time of the year, not only because of the re-awakening of life in the world, but because of what it has come to represent on the spiritual side. In my last post I sent you off to a link that shares my experience with losing my son when he was newly born. It was terribly difficult, one of the worst times of my life, but I wouldn't trade what I have learned from knowing that special spirit for anything. With every trial we are asked to endure, blessings equal to it are sure to follow. One of the most incredible blessings I have been given is a better understanding of how glorious the Atonement of Jesus Christ truly is. I treasure the opportunity to remember not only what Christ did for us, but the ways in which this single event more than two thousand years ago is still working to bless our lives. It has given me hope of holding my son in my arms once more, as he is promised to me so long as I strive to do what is right. Even incredible events such as this do a person no good if they do not strive to keep learning more. Insights and knowledge previously granted to us can be lost if we do not try to remember. I have found this blog to be a wonderful way to remember, a sort of journal I choose to share with others. About three or four years ago I worked in writing (rather bad writing, unfortunately) for a new site being formed called LDSBlogs.com. It had been put together with the goal to help those who are not of our faith understand what this church is all about through the eyes of it's members. As Easter approached I found myself with a great desire to post something about the Atonement, but didn't know what to focus on nor how it should be presented. Many prayers were devoted to knowing what our Father would have me write, and the answer came in an unexpected way. I was looking through a local bookstore, Deseret Book, where my eyes were continually brought back to one particular table. There sat three different books, all by the same author, Andrew Skinner. I'd never heard of him before, but knew without a doubt I needed to buy those books. So I did. And I thanked my Heavenly Father profusely for guiding me to them. Gethsemane, Golgotha, and The Garden Tomb opened my mind to new thoughts regarding the entire process of the Atonement, from the history of the Passover Feast right through the resurrection. I did a series of posts regarding what I'd read, and even reposted them here. As you go through this week I pray you'll take some time to read through the different links I'll post here, in the hopes that you too might be able to discover something you never knew before. Most of all I pray you'll help share with your family and friends what this Easter time truly stands for. It's so fun to hunt for eggs, receive baskets full of goodies, and think about a giant bunny making it all happen (unless it's Erin in a bunny costume - then it's just plain scary, lol). But it's not why we celebrate Easter. Easter is about the Savior, all that he gave up - and took upon himself - for us to live with him again in the kingdom of our Heavenly Father. It is about not needing to suffer the pain and guilt that comes with sin, but rather the opportunity to repent and be clean again. It is about breaking through the bands of death so that we will not be forced to spend all of eternity in those sins. May you all enjoy this blessed time. May you find hope in the atonement of our Lord. May you be kept safe and loved until we meet again. History of Passover Feast The Last Supper Gethsemane: A Sacred Place The Atonement: Christ Took on More than Our Sins The Betrayal and Trials of Christ Simon Carried the Cross Christ's Crucifixion, Last Words, and Death The Burial of Christ He is Risen!

Reposting, but for a Good Reason

2011-03-16T05:41:00.000-07:00

Hello all. Two years ago I sat down to write to you all about my son who passed away, and my experience that day. Two years ago. It's hard to believe how quickly time passes when you're not paying attention...or in denial.

I want to put out my Happy Birthday wishes to my son, D, who would have turned 11 years old this year. Your presence has been felt recently in our home. We all love you so much.

Sending Out a Birthday Wish

Calling All Prayer Warriors

2011-03-07T05:38:00.000-08:00

Several years ago I was a part of a marvelous online group dedicated to the author Jan Karon, who penned the books known as "The Mitford Series." For anyone who may not know much of these books, I highly recommend them. They revolve around a certain Father Tim Kavanaugh, who is the spiritual leader over a parish of very unusual, funny, and downright lovable characters.

As an online community I grew to love the women I'd met there. Every once in a while we'd get the trouble maker who loved to stir things up for the sheer intent of creating discord, yet on the whole I enjoyed the friendships made.

One of the most beautiful parts of this site were the needs being met in the area of prayer. Prayer is a powerful tool, especially when a group of people are brought together for a single purpose. Eventually those who chose to participate in the prayer threads of the site were referred to as the Prayer Warriors. It seemed particularly fitting as there is always a battle to be fought on spiritual levels, and the combined efforts given had proven to be a powerful force on more than one occasion.

It's been many years since I was last on that site. Things in it had changed a little too much when it came to the general aura of the site - at least for me it had. I didn't enjoy it as much. However, the term "Prayer Warrior" still makes my spine tingle. I was thinking of this term earlier in the week when the need for serious prayer in great numbers came to me.

About six weeks ago I was asked to be a part of a very small group of women who would work on a special spiritual activity for our stake girl's camp this year. Our leader had an idea of what this needed to be about. As a group we filled in the details and then, due to the special talent for writing my Heavenly Father has given me, I took the assignment home and began.

For almost two straight weeks every spare minute (and even some not so spare) was dedicated to writing. I felt the words and ideas flow through me as they had not for almost a year. I could tell the Holy Spirit was with me during this journey. The beginning was at first tough to pin down as I wasn't sure how to begin what had to match the already blossoming middle. Little inspirations struck, helping me understand which ideas our little group had come up with would or would not work, and before I knew it about twelve pages had been put together. I was ecstatic, elated, and other exciting words starting with the letter e. Mostly I was humbled with the incredible project the Lord was helping me to create.

Then Thursday hit. From the moment I awoke everything felt...wrong. I was tired, grumpy, down, depressed. The weather that day dawned dark and rainy. No matter how hard I tried I could not get myself to sit down and work on my beloved piece. I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around anything except for one fact - for I was overcome with a nauseating "truth" - that everything I'd written was simply no good. It was so off course. It was horrible. It was far too long. There was no possible way the others in my group would like it.

I was in absolute despair.

Everything in me said, "Just erase it. Start over. Don't let anyone know how you failed." It is difficult for me to help you understand what it means for a writer to be threatened with the thought of needing to get rid of something we once thought of as brilliant. I'd put my heart and soul into these wonderful combinations of words and ideas. To erase it all felt so much like erasing a part of myself.

In despair I retreated into my mind and pleaded, as a child of God, "Father, what do I do?"

As though He'd been waiting for me to ask the words of the ladies at our first meeting came to my mind. They'd talked about how difficult this entire camp had been to put together, not like the last one which seemed to come about with ease. This time around they found themselves constantly finding one stumbling block after another. They would get one block out of the way only to find another even bigger one needing to be moved. They began to despair, wondering if they were completely off track, until the thought to stop and pray came. Once their plea to have Satan's hindering hand removed from their efforts, things began to flow smoothly.

I clutched on to those words, to the hope they offered, as a frightened child might grasp tight to the hand of a parent. My thoughts and actions went to the very place I knew I could find my own group of Prayer Warriors, and to the computer I went. "Help me," I implored to my friends and family on Facebook, for that was the place I could reach the greatest number of people immediately. "I think Satan is attacking me this morning, tempting me to destroy something important. Please pray that his hand will be removed from me."

The responses were immediate. Within minutes the sun literally broke through the clouds, lighting the world outside my front window. From my mind a giant pressure was lifted. I could even breathe easier. Throughout the entire day my Warriors helped to stay Satan's hand, and my own hand as well. To my mind came the thought, "Leave it alone." And so I did. That night my wonderful husband gave me a very special priesthood blessing where it was confirmed that not only was I meant to write for this project, but that Satan was indeed trying to bring me down so it would not happen.

Throughout the entire next day I was still told to leave it alone, and so I filled the hours with laundry, a bit of cleaning, my family, and as I was told, did not touch the project. This did not mean my mind wasn't constantly on it. I kept thinking, "If I just read it, that wouldn't matter right?" But no, came the instant impression to my mind, leave it alone. And so I did.

Not until late Saturday morning was the restriction lifted. I only made it through a few pages when I realized what it was I might have destroyed. As though the sun broke out in my own head I knew that what my very own fingers had typed was not only good, but greatly inspired of God. Later that afternoon I read it to my three ladies and they confirmed what the Spirit had told me, and I was grateful.

There is no doubt in my mind that if I had not gone to ask my friends to pray in my behalf, every word I'd lovingly put to paper (figuratively speaking) would have been lost. There is no doubt in my mind my Warriors, and indeed I think of them as my heroes, who came together in prayer when my soul was in need saved me that day from doing something I would forever regret. I am here to offer them my intense gratitude and love.

And so I leave you with this thought: the next time you are in need of prayers offered in your behalf, don't be afraid to ask. The more people you ask the more you will be blessed. Just as important is the opportunity to be a Prayer Warrior for someone else in need, even if you barely know that person.

I will end with the request that those who read this will continue to pray. My project is not done, but with Satan trying to keep from writing it I need all the prayers I can get. When it is complete, and offered to the young women for whom it is being written later this summer, I hope to share it here with all of you.

Adoption: The Gift They Cannot Give Each Other

2011-02-22T20:05:00.000-08:00

I have two wonderful friends who are so very dear to my heart. For many years now they've tried and tried to have a baby, but God has asked them to try a different path to seek their goal. Almost a year ago they began the road to adoption.

Adoption is a wonderful thing, even if it does come out of difficult circumstances. There are many in my life who have had the opportunity to adopt, and many more who are hoping to adopt one day. But this particular couple are on my mind in such a fashion I cannot think there is a baby about to be born who is meant to be a part of this glorious family.

I don't know that the answer to their prayers will come through this blog, but if I had the chance to further their opportunity to have a baby and did nothing about it...well, I couldn't very well live in peace.

I am putting up a link to their adoption site, and pray someone out there who knows of a baby in need of a family will take a good, hard look. For those who don't, I beg you will include them in your prayers. There is nothing these two want more than a little one to raise, and the love they can provide him or her is immeasurable.

Before the link, I want to share the lyrics to two songs written by a Christian musician by the name of Michael McLean. He has been one of my favorites for years. One day he received a phone call from a young woman who asked him to write a song for her and the baby she had chosen to let someone else raise. The first song is his inspiration. Later he penned another song, this one done through the voice of an adoptive mother who was so grateful to have received a gift she and her husband could not give each other. Please, stop and read these lyrics, and think about what you can help give to these friends of mine.

From God's Arms, To My Arms, To Yours

With so many wrong decisions in my past, I'm not quite sure
If I can ever hope to trust my judgement anymore.
But lately I've been thinking, 'cause it's all I've had to do.
And in my heart I feel that I should give this child to you.

And maybe you can tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.

If you choose to tell him, and if he wants to know,
How the one who gave him life could bear to let him go;
Just tell him there were sleepless nights; I prayed and paced the floors
And knew the only peace I'd find is if this child was yours.

And maybe you can tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.

Now I know that you don't have to do this,
But could you kiss him once for me
The first time that he ties his shoes, or falls and skins his knee?
And could you hold him twice as long when he makes his mistakes,
And tell him that he's not alone, sometimes that's all it takes.
I know how much he'll ache.

This may not be the answer for another girl like me;
But I'm not on a soapbox saying how we all should be.
I'm just trusting in my feelings and I'm trusting God above,
And I'm trusting you can give this baby
Both his mothers' love.

And maybe you can tell your baby
When you love him so that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.

The Gift We Could Not Give Each Other

When she was a little girl she held her dolls like children
Dreaming of the day when she'd have babies of her own.
Now those dolls lie on a shelf as lifeless as the dreams she dreamed.
It's become the deepest ache her heart has ever known.

There's a man who's trying his best to comfort her with roses,
Telling her he'll find a way to make their dreams come true.
He's been saying this for years, but now his tears reveal the truth.
In his heart he fears there's nothing else that they can do.

Then a gift is given, a phone call straight from heaven.
There's a child that's nearly due that a young girl's giving you.
She gave more than just one life
When she makes of this man and wife a father and a mother.
She gives the gift they could not give each other.

More than we could ever know this couple thanks the heavens.
Every time they hold their child, they feel they hold the world.
Words will never be enough to share the way the family feels.
From deep inside their hearts they want to tell that girl:

Not a day is ever through till we've thanked the Lord for you.
Your sweetness lingers near in our hearts and thoughts and prayers.
You gave more than just one life when you made of this man and wife,
A father and a mother.
When you gave the gift we could not give each other.
You have changed our lives forever.

Only you and God above could give this gift of love
We could not give each other.

Please, please, help God give this gift to Brian and Erin.

Tithes and Other Offerings

2011-02-13T17:50:00.000-08:00

Today I opted to share with you the talk my husband gave during sacrament meeting today.

Tithes and Other Offerings

"Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it" (Malachi 3:10).

Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught us that, "Tithing is a test of faith with eternal blessings. In the Old Testament, Abraham proved his faith by paying tithes to the great high priest Melchizedek. Abraham's grandson Jacob vowed to the Lord, 'Of all thou shalt give me I will surely give the tenth unto thee.'

"Tithing has been established in these latter days as an essential law for members of the Lord's restored Church. It is one of the basic ways we witness our faith in Him and our obedience to His laws and commandments. Tithing is one of the commandments that qualifies us, by our faith, to enter the temple - the house of the Lord."

When pondering upon what to speak about today, the topic of tithes and other offerings repeatedly came to mind. As a bishop I am given a deeper insight into the ways these tithes and other offerings are made useful in the workings of this Church. Not just the Church as a worldwide religion, but in our own stake and individual ward. The responsibility of choosing how the Lord's money is to be distributed is a heavy one, and I do not take it lightly. But I am here to testify to you today that when we, who are able, pay our tithing and willingly contribute to the other needs of the Church, the windows of heaven will truly be opened and blessings will be poured out upon us.

How important is tithing? Think on this. When asked whether members of the Church could be baptized for the dead if they had not paid their tithing, President John Taylor, then of the Quorum of the Twelve, answered: "A man who has not paid his tithing is unfit to be baptized for his dead. ... If a man has not faith enough to attend to these little things, he has not faith enough to save himself and his friends."

Tithing is an exercise in faith. Elder Hales states: "Tithing develops and tests our faith. By sacrificing to the Lord what we may think we need or want for ourselves, we learn to rely on Him. Our faith in Him makes it possible to keep temple covenants and receive eternal blessings...The obedient payment of tithing fortifies our faith, and that faith sustains us through the trials, tribulations, and sorrows in our life's journey."

Think for a moment of Alma chapter 32. Starting in verse 27 we are taught the steps to take when starting out with a small hope to learn if something is of God and through a simple experiment learning to make it a strong testimony.

Think of a seed, a tiny seed, and you've planted it in the ground hoping something beautiful will grow from it. You water it, give it lots of sunlight, fertilize the soil, and make certain no weeds overtake it. One of two things will happen. Either the seed will die for it was not a good seed to begin with, or the seed will grow.

For today our seed is tithing. We have a hope it will be a good seed, but are sometimes afraid of what will happen if we choose to pay it instead of something we feel is more needful. And so it's time to go to the Lord in faith and plant our seed by paying our tithing before anything else. We pray over our decision, we read our scriptures, we continually trust even when we're scared. In time one of two things will happen. Either we will find ourselves lacking both spiritually and temporally, or, by some miracle, everything has turned out okay.

I'm here to testify everything will be okay. But is it enough to leave it after this one experiment? No, because like any seed, it needs more water, more sunlight, and more love to keep the building of your testimony strong. In other words, keep paying your tithing, and the Lord will continue to bless and protect you.

Of paying tithing President Gordon B. Hinckley said, "We never felt that it was a sacrifice to pay our tithing. We felt it was an obligation, that even as small children we were doing our duty as the Lord had outlined that duty, and that we were assisting his church in the great work it had to accomplish.

"We did not do it with the expectation of material blessings, although we can testify that we have been so blessed. The Lord has opened the windows of heaven and poured out his blessings in marvelous measure. I know that he will bless all who walk in obedience to this commandment.

"Now, do not get me wrong. I do not say that if you pay an honest tithing you will realize your dream of a fine house, a Rolls Royce, and a condominium in Hawaii. The Lord will open the windows of heaven according to our need, and not according to our greed. If we are paying tithing to get rich, we are doing it for the wrong reason. The basic purpose for tithing is to provide the Church with the means needed to carry on the Lord's work. The blessing to the giver is [a secondary] return, and that blessing may not be always in the form of financial or material benefit. In speaking of opening the windows of heaven, Malachi says:

" 'And I will rebuke the devourer for your sakes, and he shall not destroy the fruits of your ground; neither shall your vine cast her fruit before the time in the field. ... And all nations shall call you blessed: for ye shall be a delightsome land, saith the Lord of hosts' (Malachi 3:11-12).

"There are many ways in which the Lord can bless us beyond the riches of the world," President Hinckley continues to tell us. "There is the great boon of health. The Lord has promised that he will rebuke the devourer for our sakes. Malachi speaks of the fruits of our ground. May not that rebuke of the devourer apply to various of our personal efforts and concerns?

"There is promised in modern revelation a great blessing of wisdom, of knowledge, even hidden treasures of knowledge. Malachi has told us that ours shall be a delightsome land if we will walk in obedience to this law. I can interpret the word land as people, that those who will walk in obedience shall be a delightsome people. What a marvelous condition to be a delightsome people whom others would describe as blessed!"

Tithing can help us in other ways. Elder Hales said, "Tithing also teaches us to control our desires and passions for the things of this world. Payment of tithing encourages us to be honest in our dealings with our fellowmen. We learn to trust that what we have been given, through the blessings of the Lord and our own diligent efforts, is sufficient for our needs."

Note that he tells us it will be sufficient for our needs. Not our wants. It is not difficult for our wants to become needs. I think of my mother, and how for years she never had a microwave. She had never seen the need for one. When she and my dad were on their mission in Seattle the little place they were given to live had a microwave. It broke. Let's just say mom made sure they had a new one right away. The microwave went home with them. Mom now needed a microwave.

A microwave is a one-time expense, but how many of us are paying for things we may not need on a monthly basis? What sorts of things might we feel are something we need, rather than simply something we want? Take some time to sit down and look over your finances. Be strict with yourselves and see where you might be able to cut out certain expenses. Search to discover what is truly a need - something necessary for your survival such as food, shelter, water, heat, etc - and what is simply extra. Yes, an xBox or a Wii is fun to have, but it is vital to your existence? How much is your cable or Internet or phone bill? Are there ways to decrease the amount of money you're paying for these things? How many extras are there in your home you might be paying for without realizing what a drain they can be on your finances?

It may not be easy to faithfully and honestly live the law of tithing, but the Lord promises an abundance of blessings to those who do. Some of these blessings may be temporal, like tithing is a temporal thing. But truly the greatest blessings to be poured out upon us will be spiritual in nature.

Be at peace in knowing no matter the sum of your tithing, whether it be great or small, blessings will be given equally. To the Lord the amount of money one is able to give does not matter, but rather obedience to the law of giving one tenth of your income.

President Hinckley once shared: "We hear some these days who say that because of economic pressures they cannot afford to pay their tithing. I recall an experience I had as a stake president some years ago. A man came to get his temple recommend signed. I questioned him in the usual way and asked, among other things, whether he was paying an honest tithing. He candidly replied that he was not, that he could not afford to because of his many debts. I felt impressed to tell him that he would not pay his debts until he paid his tithing.

"He went along for a year or two in his normal way, and then made a decision. He talked about it some time later, telling me: 'What you told me has proved to be true. I felt I could not pay my tithing because of my debts. I discovered that no matter how hard I tried, somehow I could not manage to reduce my debt. Finally my wife and I sat down together and talked about it and concluded we would try the promise of the Lord. We have done so. And somehow in a way we can't quite understand, the Lord has blessed us.

"We have not missed that which we have given to him, and for the first time in many years we are reducing our debt. We have come to the wisdom of budgeting our expenditures and of determining where our funds have been going. Because we now have a higher objective, we are able to curtail some of our appetites and desires. And above all of this, we feel we can now go to the house of the Lord with those deserving of this wonderful blessing.'

"We can pay our tithing," President Hinckley tells us. "It is not so much a matter of money as it is a matter of faith. I have yet to find a faithful tithe payer who cannot testify that in a very literal and wonderful way the windows of heaven have been opened and blessings have been poured out upon him or her."

Would any of us intentionally reject an outpouring of blessings from the Lord? Sadly, this is what we do when we fail to pay our tithing. We say not to the very blessings we are seeking and praying to receive. If you are one who had doubted the blessings of tithing, I encourage you to accept the Lord's invitation to "prove [Him] now herewith." Pay your tithing. Unlock the windows of heaven. You will be abundantly blessed for your obedience and faithfulness to the Lord's laws and commandments.

I would speak now to those who are faithful and honest tithe payers. The needs of this Church go far beyond tithing, though that is certainly the first and most important step. Many of you may not know, but the needs of each individual ward when it comes to welfare comes through the giving of fast offerings. The Lord does not demand a great amount to be given here either, simply the sum of money you would have spent for two consecutive meals. If, however, you find yourself able to give extra, please do so.

There are other programs you can contribute to as well. The one I would like to focus on most is our ward mission fund. We have three missionaries out right now. Contributions from the members of this ward will sustain them and their families in easing the financial pressure. Please, if at all possible, give what little you can when you find you are able to give.

To you young men and women who some day desire to go on a mission, I tell you now to begin saving every penny you can in preparation. The opportunity to go on a mission is not something you are entitled to. You must earn the right to go, including whatever money you can earn to do so. Trust that when you have done all you can, the Lord will help make up the difference.

Other areas in which you can help include Humanitarian Aid, the Church Mission Fund, Temple Construction and the Perpetual Education Fund. If you wish to contribute to one of these, but do not see it listed on the tithing slip, put it under the "Other" section and write it in.

I have watched as some members of this ward have given their tithing, and have even pulled deeper into their pockets to help sustain this ward, even if it meant going without. I have seen the generosity of you members each time a need comes our way. It has filled my heart with the greatest love to watch as you have placed your faith in the Lord, trusting He will make up for each offering freely given.

I have also watched as others have struggled to make some very difficult decisions when it comes to paying tithing. Sometimes it truly is a matter of paying tithing, or paying rent, or buying food for your family. It is at these times we find ourselves needing to trust in the Lord the most. We need to exercise the faith necessary to pay what is due to the Lord. As your bishop, I promise that if you choose to give to the Lord, He will make up the difference. As a member of the Lord's church, I have gained my own testimony of why I need to pay tithing. While my testimony may enlighten you, or encourage you to try this experiment of faith, I cannot give my testimony to you. This is something you need to discover for yourselves.

How to Gain a Testimony

2011-01-30T20:37:00.000-08:00

I have noticed on the occasional Sunday I wake up with reasons all ready flowing through my mind as to why staying home from church would be really quite nice. After all, I almost have a headache, or I'm just more tired than I can remember being in quite some time. Before I'm even out of bed I can hear the children arguing and it would simply be best for all involved if I stayed right where I am!

This attitude typically happens on Sundays when church is the best possible place to be, either because I'm needed there in behalf of someone else, or there is something happening - a lesson being taught or a friend who needs to talk - that is for my personal benefit. Today was one of those days where the latter reason was true.

On the rare fifth Sunday of the month the bishop of the the ward (the spiritual leader over our local congregation) is asked to give a lesson to the men and women age eighteen and over. The lesson topic is not assigned, but rather given over to the bishop to decide as the Holy Spirit guides him. As I happened to be married to the current bishop in our ward, I knew the topic beforehand.

Normally during the same hour the adults are being taught on gospel principles, I am in with the youth age 12-17 and other youth leaders. Today as I stood in the back of the class trying to take count of the girls who had come, the Holy Spirit came over very strong and said, "You need to go listen to your husband teach." Hearing actual words doesn't happen very often to me, so after the initial shock I picked up my bags and quietly left.

The room was rather packed as the meeting had started. I was excited to see assigned quotes and stories handed out, as that seems to get people involved and talking. One of our wonderful men saw me standing and directed me to an empty chair, and I managed to keep from stepping on any one's toes as I crept over to sit down.

Last week I felt inspired to write about what a testimony is. Today's lesson my husband prepared was also on testimonies. The lesson revolved around two different ideas I'd like to touch on today. First, how does a person gain a testimony?

In my last post I said a testimony is a spiritual witness given to us through the Holy Spirit that something is true. As I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, nicknamed the Mormon Church, I have chosen to refer to a particular book in the Book of Mormon - another testament of Jesus Christ. This reference beautifully describes the testimony process.

Gaining a testimony begins with hope. "And now as I said concerning faith - faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true" (Alma 32:21). We must have a sincere desire to know if something is of God. Coming to Him in prayer to ask about spiritual things without truly wanting to know the answer will do you no good. It would be akin to standing directly in front of the Lord asking Him to prove Himself by performing a miracle, but inwardly ready to explain it all away through scientific methods. Christ could perform acts of grandiose accomplishment right in front of our faces, but if we have all ready decided it cannot be real the act itself will not mean a thing. There is no way the Holy Spirit can give us a witness to the truth. We will easily reject that which has been born of the Spirit.

So before you go to ask the Lord if something is of Him, talk to yourself first. Be honest in discovering what your intentions are. Do you truly want to know? If the answer is no, perhaps now is not the time to ask. If this answer disturbs you go to the Father in prayer, asking what you need to do and where you might go to learn more in order to receive a change of heart.

If you find your desire to know the truth is sincere and full of hope, I would invite you to look upon this desire as a seed, and begin an experiment.

"Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts, and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves - It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me...

"...As the seed swelleth and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, then you must needs say that the seed is good...behold, will not this strengthen your faith? Yea, it will strengthen your faith: for ye will say I know that this is a good seed; for it sprouteth and beginneth to grow...

"...Therefore, if a seed groweth it is good, but if it groweth not, behold it is not good, therefore it is cast away" (Alma 32: 28-32).

You come to the Lord with a sincere desire to know if something is true, good, or right. It has been in your heart and made you feel uplifted and you want to know, not just believe, that it is indeed of God. You have turned to the scriptures to read about it, you have studied and pondered upon it, and you have prayed to know if it is true. Does the light and warmth leave you? Do you find the thoughts, ideas, and understanding leave your mind? If so, the seed was not good. It was not inspired of God, and needs to be left alone. On the other hand, does the feeling of warmth, of light, of understanding stay with you? If so, then the seed was good and deserves to be nurtured.

Like any seed our hope and faith need to be nourished. Just as a seed needs sunlight, good earth, and water to grow and become strong, the tender beginnings of a testimony needs nourishment as well. We must continually look to find out more about the thing we hope to gain a strong testimony about. Continue to read the word of God, to find other good books and works to help gain understanding, as well as continue in prayer. The more we nourish this seed, the greater it will become, until it is strong enough to stand on it's own.

As Alma says in verses 33-34: "And now, behold, because ye have tried the experiment, and planted the seed, and it swelleth and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, ye must needs know that the seed is good. And now, behold, is your knowledge perfect? Yea, your knowledge is perfect in that thing, and your faith is dormant; and this because you know, for ye know that the word hath swelled your souls, and ye also know that it hath sprouted up, that your understanding doth begin to be enlightened, and your mind doth begin to expand."

If you seek to gain that spiritual witness to the truth of something about which you have read or heard, ask yourself if it is good. What feelings does it bring? Seek to discover if you truly want to know if it is of God. Turn to His word to study and ponder upon the subject. Then go to the Father in prayer.

"I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. And by the power of the Holy Ghost, ye may know the truth of all things" (Moroni 10: 4-5).

A testimony does not stop with an answer, however. We must begin to live the truths we've received. For example, what good does it do us to have a testimony about paying tithes and other offerings if we do nothing about it? Our testimony in it will grow weak, and when we find ourselves tested and tried regarding paying our tithing, we may find our testimony too weak to sustain us through the trial. Testimonies are not dependent on how much we love the gospel of Jesus Christ, or on how much we love Him, but rather on how much we are willing to live it.

The second thing discussed in our lesson today was on how our testimonies are often based on answers to prayer. Or rather, what seems to us to be a lack of answers. Often we attach our belief in God and His love for us to whether or not He answers a prayer. One woman in class made a wonderful comment. She said sometimes we look for answers with a great big cone around our head and focused on the front door, because that's where we believe the answers should come from. After all, that is what has worked for us before. Sometimes, though, Heavenly Father is giving us answers through the back door, where we are unwilling to look. If we could take off the cone and turn around, we might find the answer needed.

Answers to prayers do not come in one particular way, always in a form we are familiar with, or in a time we desire. There are moments we are asked to practice patience and wait for the answer. If some of you have asked and have not received an answer, are you doing what is necessary for when the answer is ready to come? We must place - and keep - ourselves in harmony with the Lord. Continue to read the word of the Lord, to pray, to attend church, and to live according to His gospel.

How do we know if the answer is to wait? How do we know if the answer, which has come in an unexpected method, is truly of God? In the Doctrine and Covenants, a collection of revelations given to Joseph Smith during his time here on earth acting as the Lord's prophet, we have been given the needed information.

"But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right. But if it be not right you shall have no such feelings, but you shall have a stupor of thought that shall cause you to forget the thing which is wrong" (D&C 9:8-9).

If you receive peace, it is good. Wait until the answer you seek is ready to be given. If instead you you find yourself without peace, with a sudden stop of thought, it is not good and should be let go. In times like this it is most important to show faith in the Lord, regardless of whether or not we feel we have received an answer, and practice patience. We must remember that His knowledge and understanding far exceeds our own.

To close I want to take a moment to testify about this church to which I belong. Even though I have grown up being taught the doctrines of this religion, I too was encouraged to practice what was being preached. I planted my own seeds about the Book of Mormon and the truthfulness of this being the Lord's restored gospel. These seeds have blossomed and have grown until my original faith became dormant as belief turned into knowledge. I have received my own spiritual witness, one I cannot deny. It is a sure knowledge. I don't expect everyone out there to share this with me, as this witness was for me alone. However, I would invite all of you out there to discover the truth for yourselves, when you are ready.

If anything you have read here on my blog has brought you feelings of peace and warmth, if you find yourselves wanting to know more about this Church and what we are taught, if the desire is sincere and your heart truly seeks a spiritual witness, the best way to know is not through me but through the Lord. Read the Book of Mormon for yourselves. Feel free to ask questions of those knowledgeable in this gospel. Look up the Church approved sites to help gain further light and knowledge.

I will put up a few links to go to if you wish to read more:

www.Mormon.org
www.lds.org
Book of Mormon

Testimony: A Spiritual Witness

2011-01-23T20:07:00.000-08:00

At the tender age of seventeen I received a firm witness to the truthfulness of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints being Christ's fully restored gospel here in this day and age. Something in me had always known the gospel I had been taught since before I could talk was not only important, but vital to my very being.

This is not to say I took it seriously at all times throughout my life. Yet never did I rebel against it. The term "Choose the Right," the motto of our Primary program (set up to teach children ages 3-11), had set itself almost in stone in my soul. I didn't always choose the right, or makes choices with my Savior in mind. Too often I made some very wrong decisions and managed to get myself in a whole lot of trouble. Fortunately I learned from these choices. The greatest lesson, one that has stuck with me for years after, has been this: When we choose the right, or truly focus on what it is the Lord wants us to do, peace and happiness follow.

Now I'm not saying life suddenly becomes easy when we focus on the Lord. Temptations, trials and the impact from choices others make will be a constant throughout our lives. They are necessary if we are to learn all we possibly can before returning to live with our Father in Heaven, for it is through opposition, and our learning to deal well with opposition, that our greatest lessons are learned.

During our main church meeting today (Sacrament Meeting) a sweet woman and friend named Shellie spoke of the horrible year 2010 had proven to be for her. It had been a huge struggle from beginning to end, especially the end. Her grandmother, a woman with whom she shared a beautiful and intimate bond, had passed away. Shellie considered this the last straw - she simply could not handle any more. Her faith was shaken. Her testimony had grown so fragile. To Shellie it had grown apparent God had abandoned her, had turned His back and left her to wallow in misery. How could this have happened?

Shellie talked with her husband, who I imagine was lost in what to tell her. Yet his answer to her distress came in the reply of one question: "Do you have a testimony of the gospel?" She replied, "Yes." It was, indeed, still there. It had become crumpled under the pressures of the year, but it was still there. "Well then," he continued, "you have two options. You can either trust in everything you've been taught and rely on Heavenly Father to help get you through this, or you can turn your back on Him and be miserable.

His words, though hardly comforting, resonated in my friend. Here she'd been thinking God had turned His back on her. Was it possible she'd been the one who had turned? After much time contemplating the awful year, she began to see how seemingly unrelated circumstances had been provided by Heavenly Hands to help her get through all the rough times, in particular when it came to the death of a most beloved grandmother.

I can guarantee you as she continues to heal from the trials and tribulations over the last year she will find her testimony stronger than ever before.

When is this curious thing we call a testimony? I believe most religions refer to it as a witness of the Holy Spirit of the truthfulness regarding spiritual things. Testimonies, or witnesses, come after the trials of our faith. Testimonies are living things, like muscle. Muscle needs to be worked, stretched, developed if it is to remain strong. Muscle needs to be broken down so it might gain greater strength. We cannot gain a strong muscular testimony if we go through life never acting on the things we believe are true, if that faith is never broken down at times so it might gain in strength.

A testimony is more than faith. It is the culmination of knowledge given through spiritual confirmation. In other words, belief is no longer necessary because the Holy Spirit has told us it is truth. That is a testimony.

The tricky thing about a testimony is it cannot be held in your hand. It is not a physical object you can show people so they can see what it is you know. It is intangible, personal, and for you alone. You can share this precious gift by word of mouth and through deed. Others can be impacted by the strength of your testimony, but it doesn't mean they will accept it as truth. They have to discover those spiritual truths for themselves.

Brigham Young, a leader and prophet of our Church many years ago once stated, "No one can make me deny what I know." This has become one of the most important statements for me to live by. It is this little truth that helps me to realize why developing a testimony of our very own is necessary if we are to stay strong throughout this life, especially when the winds of persecution, doubt, and trials blow. This testimony is what will keep us firmly in place when everyone and everything around us whirls with the pressure to change. It is what helps me to trust in the Lord even when the tides of affliction come pounding down upon me.

I know. Two simple, yet powerful words. What do you, who have acted upon your own faith, who have experienced the trials meant to strengthen your belief into knowledge, know to be true?

This is what I know. This is what the Holy Spirit has witnessed to me. Here is what I cannot deny. I know Jesus Christ is our Savior. I know He lived as the immortal Son of God and the mortal son of Mary. I know He endured more than we can ever imagine so that we might have the chance to repent of our sins. I know He died on the cross. I know that regardless of what others may say, He did in fact rise from the dead, freeing us all from the bonds of eternal death. I know He loves us without reservation, and is always looking for the day we will stop turning our backs to Him, and will enter into the circle of His love and forgiveness. This, my friends, is what I know.

Purpose and Faith

2011-01-16T13:33:00.000-08:00

"My dear friends, you are a royal generation. You were preserved to come to the earth in this time for a special purpose. Not just a few of you, but all of you. There are things for each of you to do that no one else can do as well as you. ... If you will let Him, I testify that our Father in Heaven will walk with you through the journey of life and inspire you to know your special purpose here" (Bishop H. Burke Peterson, "Your Life Has a Purpose," New Era).

I like to believe there's a part of every person on earth who ponders longingly on the idea that we all have a special thing we are called upon to do, that there is something God the Father needs of just him, or her, or even me. I like to think that each of us has that desires to be special, unique, and important in the giant scheme of things. Do you know what? I don't have to believe it. I know.

When Bishop Peterson speaks of this generation, he is not speaking of one specific in this current year. He is speaking about all of those who have been saved for this last dispensation when the gospel of Jesus Christ has been returned to the earth for the final time before His second coming. Do you comprehend what this means? It means our grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, teachers, leaders, siblings, friends, children, nieces, nephews, students, grandchildren, and so on down the line were saved for this time.

"For nearly six thousand years, God has held you in reserve to make your appearance in the final days before the Second Coming of the Lord. Every precious gospel dispensation has drifted into apostasy, but ours will not. ... God has saved for the final inning some of his strongest children, who will help bear off the Kingdom triumphantly. And that is where you come in, for you are the generation that must be prepared to meet your God.

"All through the ages the prophets have looked down through the corridors of time to our day. Billions of the deceased and those yet to be born have their eyes on us. Make no mistake about it - you are a marked generation. There has never been more expected of the faithful in such a short period of time as there is of us" (Ezra Taft Benson, "In His Steps," in Speeches of the Year, 1979).

The lesson in our Young Women (girls age 12-18 in our church) class today focused on recognizing our vast importance in God's plan of eternal salvation and ways to find out what our purposes in this life are to be. I wanted to discuss the points made in our class today, in particular because if we are to find true happiness and fulfillment in this life, we must place our goals in accordance with that of our Father.

1. Communicate with Him through prayer
2. Holy Ghost - follow his promptings
3. Ask for a priesthood blessing
4. Patriarchal Blessing - use it as a guide
5. Study
6. Think or meditate about what you have studied
7. Inquire of the Lord
8. Choose righteously
9. Kingdom of God - SEEK IT!!!

Prayer - the strongest link we possess between ourselves and our Father in Heaven. The ability to communicate one on one with a being who loves us more than we can possibly comprehend. It does not matter if He knows everything we've done that day. It is not important that He knows our every thought. His own desire for us to come to Him in daily prayer, many times a day, is intense. He invites us to come unto Him throughout the scriptures, to seek Him. Pray for counsel, pray for peace, pray for help, pray for answers. BE SPECIFIC in your prayers. Never be afraid to ask Him for things you really want. But remember, in all things it is not our will that must be obeyed, but the Father's. Most important, take a few seconds after your prayers to listen intently for a possible answer. Don't "doorbell ditch" your prayers. He has taken time to listen to you, it is just as important to take a minute or so to listen back.

For those of us who are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (also known as the Mormon Church), we believe that the keys of God's priesthood were restored to the earth through the Prophet Joseph Smith. Every worthy priesthood leader can be asked to give a priesthood blessing. It is not just reserved for those who are sick. Priesthood blessings can be offered for guidance, for peace, for counsel as well. We are given patriarchal blessings when deemed ready and worthy by our bishops and stake presidents. These are personal scripture and should be referred to often.

Study. I'm not just talking about the scriptures, though those are most important. We also have a myriad of resources available in the form of study guides, Church magazines, and books written by those knowledgeable in the gospel. Not only should we read, but we need to ponder the things we read. We must ask the Father in prayer if the things we have read are good and true. We cannot rely on the testimony of everyone else around us and expect to stay strong and recognize the promptings of the Holy Spirit. We must learn to do this for ourselves.

Make righteous choices. It's a simple enough thing to say, but not always the easiest thing to do. It is a challenge to go through life making good choices, even when we get older and supposedly wiser. Yet we must act on the things we study, ponder, and learn, for faith alone is not enough. The surest way to gain that testimony we need is to act and prove these things to be good. Elder John Groberg said:

"In the past I have tried to figure out whether I should go into business or into teaching or into the arts or whatever. As I have begun to proceed along one path, having more or less gathered what facts I could, I have found that if that decision was wrong or was taking me down the wrong path - not necessarily an evil one, but one that was not right for me - without fail, the Lord has always let me know just this emphatically: 'That is wrong; do not go that way. That is not for you!'

"On the other hand, there may have been two or three ways that I could have gone, any one of which would have been right and would have been in the general area providing the experience and means whereby I could fulfill the mission that the Lord had in mind for me. Because he knows we need the growth, he generally does not point and say, 'Open that door and go twelve yards in that direction; then turn right and go two miles.' But if it is wrong, he will let us know - we will feel it for sure. I am positive of that. So rather than saying, 'I will not move until I have this burning in my heart,' let us turn it around and say, 'I will move unless I feel it is wrong; and if it is wrong, then I will not do it.' By eliminating all of these wrong courses, very quickly you will find yourself going in the direction that you ought to be going, and then you can receive the assurance: 'Yes, I am going in the right direction. I am doing what my Father in Heaven wants me to do because I am not doing the things he does not want me to do.' And you can know that for sure. That is part of the growth process and part of accomplishing what our Father in Heaven has in mind for us" ("What Is Your Mission?" in Speeches of the Year, 1979).

Seek to further the Kingdom of God. We must align ourselves with Him, to mark our course in life as parallel with the gospel. This takes faith.

All of these things are tied together by the Holy Ghost, or Holy Spirit. It is through this marvelous individual that prayers are answered, that right choices can be confirmed, that blessings are given, and testimonies are received. This Spirit is a precious gift given to those who will receive it and act in accordance with the commandments so as not to drive this Spirit away.

In doing all these things we can find through the direction of our Father many of our missions here on earth during our short lives. We can walk as the Lord walked, strengthened by trials of our faith. There are things our Heavenly Father have planned for us to do in this life that we can do as no one else in the world past, present or future could even try to accomplish. There are people we are meant to influence as no one else in the world could do. But if we are not living in accordance to His Gospel, if we refuse to exercise faith in Him, in His Son, and in ourselves, we will never know how truly remarkable we are. We will never know just how important we were in God's plan.

Happy New Year!!!

2011-01-09T14:16:00.000-08:00

All right so I'm a little late on the whole new year thing, but better late than never, right? Right.

I have great hope for this new year. Though I may not be able to convey to all of you out there the feelings in my heart when I think of what may come our way, when ever my thoughts begin to linger on whether or not we will see wonderful things happen my heart begins to burn with a warmth I have not felt in some time.

I think of the rainbows, and double rainbows I witnessed in 2010, and they bring me thoughts of promises and covenants. Into my mind flows the thought that if we were faithful during the trials of the last several years, if we did our best to keep our side of the covenants and promises we've made with the Lord and with our Heavenly Father, if we've sacrificed without thought of gaining anything in return, 2011 will be a time of having our faithfulness rewarded. This will be a time of healing, of good things being spread throughout the earth, and blessings will abound.

During 2010 I spent much of my time reinventing myself. At the beginning of the year I suffered horribly from the effects of a very profound depression. Only those who have gone through this can possibly understand the hole I found myself trapped in. With the prayers and help of many people I was at last guided to an inspired counselor who, over the course of many months, began to help me discover some misguided notions I'd unknowingly developed over my life. He gave me the tools I needed to not only climb out of my hole, but to start filling it up so I wouldn't fall in again.

As I reached the fall and beginning of the winter months there was an improved change in my attitude, but the filling of my hole has been slow going. I still feel greatly unmotivated to do many of the things that used to come so naturally. I have two books I've been trying to write that I have no desire to touch. A monthly family newsletter used to find it's way into the in boxes of family and friends' e-mail, but that stopped last May. For a few months my husband and oldest kiddo took over cooking and even a large part of the cleaning. It's been rough, for all of us, but I'm starting to realize it was a necessary period of rest on my part. This hit home last week as I found myself cleaning the bathroom and being perfectly okay with doing it.

For me 2011 feels like a year of beginning anew. I've even set for myself some goals to help me come back into balance and keep me focused on important things. Learning to say no and not feel guilty about it. This is one of the things I have the hardest time with, but have actually put into practice already when telling a darling friend I couldn't babysit her boys' anymore.

I need to start having some better communication between myself and my Heavenly Father. My prayers for several months now have become insincere, as though I knew what to pray for but forgot that I was speaking to my Father in Heaven, who is real, and who loves me in ways I will never comprehend. As silly as it may sound, the easiest way to fix this has been to find somewhere else to pray. In the morning when I'm warming up the car I find myself far more awake and no where near as hurried. In the evening, after everyone else has been asleep for a few hours but before I head to bed, I'll kneel down next to the couch in the living room to pray. Changing the setting for my prayers has already made a big difference.

Our family is making a bigger effort to read from the scriptures every night. Each of us takes a verse to read, as opposed to Dad and I doing an entire chapter by ourselves. The kids all moan and groan when we tell them it's time to read, but by the time we've finished for the night they all have something to say about what they've learned. It's been wonderful.

Those are my three big goals for the year. It's enough for now, and if I decide to expand on them or add more as the year continues I'll look upon it as a sign I'm doing well. In the meantime I'll keep looking for those double rainbows and feeling hope.

May this new year bring hope to all of you this year. May your hearts be full of joy, and may you be able to accomplish those things most important to benefit yourselves and those around you.

A Beautiful Piece of Porcelein

2010-12-29T09:20:00.000-08:00

Granted, you might think me a bit odd for taking a picture of my toilet and posting it on the Internet, but bear with me. You see, for the last, oh, who knows how long, we've had toilet troubles. Nothing serious. More...annoying.

The toilet rocked as it wasn't stabilized from underneath the house. There's nothing like sitting down to do some business and wondering if you'd be able to stay on.

We had to flush two or three times to make sure everything made it down. And sometimes it didn't. Eww.

And then there were the times the handle and chain would somehow get stuck and would need a little convincing to release enough to keep the toilet from flushing on it's own. There's nothing like hearing one's chirpy little girl run into the bathroom saying, "I'll jiggle the handle!"

Even worse were the time the chain would get stuck under the plug and water would just keep rushing. Ugh. The amount of water wasted over the last year has to be, well, bad.

An early Christmas present arrived on our front porch about a week or two ago. It was from my daddy. He bought us a brand new, water efficient toilet! That would be the masterpiece pictured above. Yesterday after work my hubby went into our crawlspace and spent about two hours putting together something to stabilize the toilet. Oh yeah. We sawed wood and drilled holes and put in screws and nails. It was awesome.

We were planning on having my daddy come to help put the toilet in later this week, but when we already had the old toilet out my hubby said, "Why put the old one back in?" So we opened up the boxes and pulled out all the pieces. As I read through the instructions I started to really wish we'd waited for my dad. They were bordering on Greek to me. However, my brain finally began to make sense of what was printed and in another ten minutes or so we had our new toilet in.

Guess what? Everything flushes in just one go! It doesn't rock when you sit down and get up! And there's no need to jiggle the handle! Ah, the sheer bliss of knowing one can use the bathroom with no worries.

Easy Christmas Gift

2010-12-21T08:39:00.001-08:00

It's one of those things you really want to do this time of year, but can easily become overwhelming: Christmas gifts for teachers, friends, and neighbors. Set aside thoughts of baking for hours on end for I have a simple solution.

For the last several years I've been giving this out to the kids' teachers, along with a tree ornament. Get a hold of a chocolate bar (ie, Hershey's, Symphony, etc) and attach the following:

(Sung to the tune of Jingle Bells)

Dashing from the mall

With groceries yet to buy.

Children, work, and house cleaning,

Life is so crazy! Why?

Bells on our cell phones ring,

The machine will take the call,

We have no time to breathe this year,

It drives us up the wall!

HEY!

How are you? How's your life?

We really want to know.

We'd love to chat and hear the news,

But please don't talk to slow.

How are you? How's your life?

When is it gonna snow?

We hope you have - is that the time?

We really have to go.

A day or two ago,

We thought we'd make a treat.

A present to give out this year -

A Christmas gift to eat.

Intentions were top notch,

But our schedules would not budge,

Hence here's this year's edition of

Our homemade Christmas fudge!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Lessons in Honesty and Integrity

2010-12-12T12:48:00.000-08:00

I consider myself to be a fairly honest person. I'm a firm believer in practicing what I preach, and in doing right by those around me. So when I tell you I stole from Walmart this last week I hope you'll give me a chance to thoroughly explain before calling the cops on me.

We celebrate several birthdays during the month of December, one of which happens to be my oldest, Miss M. The night before I went grocery shopping she was telling me how she couldn't find any of her earrings, that she'd lost them all. Grrr. However, it was nearing birthday time so I played nice and thought immediately of a display of jewelry cases set out at the front of the store.

Sure enough, I found exactly the one I was thinking of, then decided to go a step further and get her a few pair of new earrings. I found some spectacular looking ones, but as I went to put them in the cart a dilemma appeared. If I put the earrings at the top of the cart my youngest could get at them. If I put them in the big part of the cart there was a danger of the earrings becoming smashed or lost. I also worried about putting them inside the box; if I did so, would I remember them once I got to the cashier line?

Seeing as how I was so concerned, I came to the conclusion I wouldn't forget and tucked the earrings inside the jewelry box. Can you see where I'm going here? I got the groceries home, took one look at the jewelry box, and gasped. I'd stolen both pair!

I was horrified. Beyond horrified. I felt sick from head to toe thinking I'd just done something that is not just wrong, but a commandment of God. Thou shalt not steal. Not even accidentally. It's just a no-no.

Back to Walmart I went. The cute greeters at the entrance know my face, and one particular man always tells me to stay out of trouble. When I approached him I said, "You know how you're always telling me to stay out of trouble? Well, I'm in trouble." I told him everything, even how dumb I was in my thinking. The darling man was torn between laughter and trying to look serious. Of course I still wanted to buy the earrings and made sure he watched while I stood in line (my line of shame!) and paid for them. As I walked out of the store a giant burden was left behind.

A few days before this exciting event the young women (girls 12-18) of our church had put together a program about their Personal Progress values. Faith, Divine Nature, Individual Worth, Knowledge, Choice and Accountability, Good Works, Integrity, and Virtue. I thought about how the young women who'd spoken on these topics had described how their lives had changed by following them. I thought about all the years I had spent as a youth doing my own challenges and projects involved with each value.

This awkward and uncomfortable experience and my decision on how to handle it involved many of the values the young women of our church are taught. Divine Nature: knowing I am a daughter of God, and have a responsibility to represent Him here on earth. Individual Worth: based on my decision, how would I value myself if I'd made a wrong choice? Choice and Accountability: I'm always telling people we always have a choice in each circumstance that comes before us. Even if it's just in our attitude, there's always a choice. And whatever choice we make, we'd better be certain the consequences will be something we can live with. Because we WILL have to live with it. Integrity: practicing what we preach. Being honest and trustworthy. Virtue: one wrong choice can mar even the most beautiful of souls.

I told my daughter about what had happened, not holding back. It was important to me for her to see Mom's not perfect, she makes mistakes, but she also does her best to right the wrongs she may commit. For topmost in my mind through all of this was the example I was setting for my children and for the girls I teach. If they can't trust that those who teach them these values abide by those teachings, they will not follow. And if there's anything I want to see for these younger generations, it's the ability to make good choices, to repent when they've done something wrong, and to live with as little guilt and burdens as possible.

Scrooge'n It

2010-12-08T08:40:00.000-08:00

I've been an absolute SCROOGE when it comes to getting into the Christmas Spirit this year. Of course, when Christmas decorations are out by the middle of October and FM 100.3 is playing Christmas music 24 hours a day the moment Halloween is over, I have to ask, "Can you blame me?"

I'm normally on the rooftop the day after Thanksgiving putting up all the outside lights. I've even been known to visit a few stores on the dreaded Black Friday. Not this year, though. This year I stayed in the house the whole day long making a dozen earrings to sell at a boutique the next day (only sold one pair, sadly, which may have added to my Scroogy-ness).

For several years we haven't put up a Christmas Tree. Not because I wasn't in the spirit of the holiday, but because we've little ones in the house and I really didn't want to spend all my time replacing tempting ornaments. Nor did I relish the thought of only decorating the top half of a tree. I am happy to report this year my husband made us get one. Yep, you read that right, he made us!

I will readily admit I'm happy he did. Though our decorations are a bit sparse, once we light it up come nighttime, the glow makes us feel extra happy. I'm finding my attitude is simply reluctant, rather than out right bah humbug-ish. Once we get me going, I'm happy to get the job done. The biggest problem is getting me going.

To help me along, however, I have downloaded some of my absolute most favorite Christmas CD's onto my iPod and have even listened to them. Whoa, I know. Don't worry. I have no intention of going overboard.

One funny before I let you go. Whilst sitting around the dinner table last night the children began discussing what they were going to ask Santa to get them. Things got silly (as things will do at our house), but not as silly as the moment our youngest was asked. She said, and I quote with all honesty, "A piece of plastic poo!"

BYUofU

2010-11-29T12:44:00.001-08:00

A few times during the year the citizens of Utah become a little...how shall I put it...crazed? You will witness crowds of people segregated by color - red and blue - for a good week before the big event occurs.

I am talking, for those who are not familiar with our local competition, of football/basketball games between the University of Utah and Brigham Young University.

For the most part the rivalry between fans is lighthearted. I have often chuckled when listening to the various members of my husband's extended family spar on who's team is the best. One particular moment still makes me laugh to this day. One day last year my in-laws won a BYU pillow, which they had placed on the back of one of their couches. My niece Heather and her husband Brian were sitting on the couch. Both are die-hard Ute fans.

Her daddy, Stephen (also a Ute fan), suddenly yelled out, "Heather! Don't move! Whatever you do, don't put your head back!" Of course through her mind immediately raced thoughts of giant spiders or snakes or some other frightening or deadly creature right behind her. We all started laughing when Stephen pulled the BYU pillow out from behind her and tossed it across the room. "That was a close one," he joked.

In my own family we've never cared which team won. I've never been THAT into sports, and really neither has my husband. I figured we'd live in a fairly competition free home. That is...until cousin Bethany started BYU. My oldest daughter, Miss M, absolutely LOVES her grown up cousin. As Bethany's love of BYU became more and more vocal, my daughter became more and more a fan.

Suddenly, Miss M is ALL ABOUT BYU!!! Whilst I attended a boutique Saturday, she went over to Uncle Stephens with cousin Bethany so they could all watch the game together (I figure that must have been interesting).

So now my home, previously known as Switzerland (neutral), is housing my very first sports nut. I never thought this day would actually come.

Halloween 2010 Pics

2010-11-17T08:24:00.000-08:00

Are you thinking to yourself, "Well it's about time!"? 'Cause I sure am. To be perfectly honest I was really not into Halloween this year. The kids did most of the decorating, and the only thing that helped the costumes happen was Savers. Poor kids. Oh, perhaps I shouldn't say that. After all, things did work out :)

Our first pic is of Mr. J, who is sporting a Snake Eyes costume from G.I. Joe. We darkened his face and hair for the night. Next comes Mr. B as Spiderman. I have to admit, as his makeup came together I started to get a bit more excited for the night.

Here's Miss A. as a ballerina in boots. At least, I think that's what it ended up being. She just loved it because it was sparkly.And this is my gorgeous Miss M. She started out dressing up as a dead witch, but decided when we were done with the makeup that she looked more like a vampire.

Here they are all together.

We did two closeups of M. Even dead I think she's pretty gorgeous.

This is daddy as a last minute pirate. We even gave him some rotting teeth.

I hadn't planned to dress up, but my friend Erin began threatening me. Something about eggs and my house. I really didn't know what I would be until I'd finished with everyone else. That's when I created "The Aftermath". Basically I took elements from everyone else's costumes and put them on me.

Do you like the shirt? Totally my favorite.

This next picture shows what happens to unsuspecting ward members when my kids are high on sugar...

Actually, he knew exactly what he was getting into, lol.

One last picture. Proof M came back to life. Whew!

CNN's Take on Elizabeth Smart as a Mormon Missionary

2010-11-10T06:49:00.001-08:00

I tend to get nervous whenever I see there's been an article published in national media on "the Mormons." When I opened up my LDS Living e-mail this morning there was a link to CNN on Elizabeth Smart's "other" testimony, that of her being a missionary for the Mormons (preferably called by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or LDS Church).

Due to the emotional atmosphere surrounding the young woman in question, I could not comprehend there being anything blatantly against our shared religion, and opted to read the article.

To my surprise it was beautifully written. There were certain words or phrases I took small issue with, but these were actually asked about and corrected right away in the comments section. What struck me as most beautiful about this article was it's testimony to how well Ms. Smart is doing all these years later.

Here's a link to the article if you'd like to read it. I highly recommend it. If any of you who are not a member of this Church have any questions, feel free to ask. I'm happy to answer as best I can.

Elizabeth Smart's Other Journey

A Step in a New Direction

2010-11-03T06:30:00.000-07:00

We're in debt. I realize this is nothing new, especially when one considers the life and times in which we live, but this is not a style of living with which my husband and I are comfortable.

Beyond the house and car payments we work our best to spend only the money my husband brings in through his job. For most of our married life he has had to work two different jobs (one full-time, one part-time) in order for us to scrape by. About two years ago the higher-ups of his full time job were able to square things away to enable my husband to at last quit his part-time job, which was especially needful as he had been asked to take on the role of a bishop (or leader of a congregation) in our church. This particular role requires much of his time.

Though he was finally able to quit his part-time job, it meant a pay decrease - something we did not mind as it meant he would get to be home a bit more. We tightened our belts even more when necessary and found other ways to keep ourselves living within our means. This year, however, life simply took it's toll.

We have just one credit card. It is pulled out primarily to make online purchases (like medications) or in case of an emergency when our savings cannot cover it. I don't know what it was about this particular year, but emergencies seemed to pop up from a lot more sources than usual. Our savings has been almost depleted, and the last time we needed to pay this much on a credit card was several years ago when our car had been stolen and required much in the way of money to be fixed.

I keep waiting for that "long lost great-uncle twenty times removed" I never knew to somehow discover I'm here and leave me a fantastic legacy! Either that or for Publisher's Clearing House to at least give me that million dollars they keep promising.

I'm not complaining...well, not much. But it's sent within me a drive I've never really experienced before to sit down and get serious about writing. A sweet friend hooked me up with a few sites to look into when it comes to freelance writing. I actually had to sit down and put together a rather pitiful looking resume. This morning I sent in said resume to a professional freelance writing site in the hopes they'll overlook my lack of experience and give me an honest chance at working for them.

It's scary, especially for someone who's never tried this online before. Yet I'm hopeful. There's this little bubble of excitement that's rolling around inside my head wondering if this could be what gets me started. I've long wanted to create a name for myself - a name that goes beyond my sweet, wonderful, and supportive circle of family and friends. I've been told by my Heavenly Father that this is what I'm meant to do (after the whole mom and wife thing, of course) with my life. It can be difficult, though, to let go of the hesitations, fears, and uncertainties. It can be difficult to believe in myself!!! Anyone out there know what I'm saying? I'm sure you do.

Perhaps today is the beginning of good things, both for myself and for our family. Perhaps today is the beginning of taking control and working towards something new and wonderful and exciting. Perhaps this is the unseen purpose behind all our little emergencies this year. Who knows but that this has been the Lord's way of getting me moving in a new direction.

Playing Hooky

2010-10-24T20:30:00.000-07:00

My hubby and I are, for the most part, those individuals you can trust to be where they need to be. For example, church meetings. We try to make it to all of them when possible. If we don't, you can bet it's for a very good reason.

The month of October has been especially busy for the both of us. We've had more going on than usual, and it's taken a toll on our sweet children. When my youngest is begging me not to leave just for a few minutes on a Saturday morning, we know it's time to play hooky.

This weekend was our stake conference, a time when extra meetings occur. My husband did his duty to the priesthood meeting, but we made the decision to take the rest of the evening, and most of today, and spend it with our children. It wasn't an easy choice to make, I'll be very honest about that. Yet it was the right one.

I wanted to share with you some of the pictures of today's adventures enjoying some of God's most beautiful creations. We started up one of our favorite canyons, intending to drive along Guardsman Pass through to our home. Here are a few pics from a few stops we made along the way.

Picking leaves and throwing rocks in a stream.

Isn't this a beauty? I love the intense colors of Autumn in the changing leaves.

I tried to capture the incredible colors of our surroundings in this and the next, but the pictures were mere echoes to what we saw in real life.

We finally found the turn off for Guardsman Pass, traveled up a ways only to find...

SNOW!!!

The kids had some fun throwing snowballs at eachother and Mom and Dad.

View of a nearby mountain top.

A few minutes later in our drive and we realized there was no way we'd be making it through this weather, so we carefully turned the car around and headed back.

Before going home we figured it would be nice to stop in at our favorite area, Silver Lake up by Brighton Ski Resort. There was a good bit of snow up here too.

Mr. B began to freeze. Of course, he's the one who threw the most snowballs, fell and slipped in the slush, and didn't bring a jacket along. Silly boy.

Daddy finally took pity on this poor, shivering boy and draped his coat over him.

Isn't this pretty? The color of the stems were almost as pretty as the leaves themselves.

Here's our last look in black and white. We headed home after this, all the kids wrapped up in blankets in the car, Dad and I wishing we could open the windows just a smidge due to the heater being turned up high. The moment we got home I took out our hot cocoa maker (thank you Errin!!!) and soon we were warming up inside and out.

My husband and I were grateful we took the morning off, especially as we ended up doing hospital visits to a few ward members that had us gone most of the evening. Each and every one of our kids told us how much fun they had today, how nice it was to have daddy with us, and how they hoped we could do it again soon.

As I lay with my youngest, listening to her ramblings just before she fell asleep, I knew we'd done the right thing for our family. We might get in trouble with certain people for not being where we were supposed to be, but that's okay. There was no doubt in our minds our choice placed us where we needed to be.

2010-10-18T08:59:00.000-07:00

The baby is named Cullen. He's our little buddy who comes to play twice a week. When all the kids were off of school last Friday each of them had a chance to feed their new favorite baby

which was, apparently, awesome in ways they cannot begin to explain.

I normally don't accept ongoing babysitting jobs, but this time around I couldn't resist the little man being proffered nor my darling friend (one of the young women I used to teach) who asked the favor of me. And I have not regretted it.

Little Miss A gets jealous a little more than I'd prefer, but when baby Cullen is sleeping I make sure to give her extra love. I've found in this job a little bit of me filled - a little bit I didn't know required filling. It's wonderful to hold a tiny baby again, to make him laugh, to comfort him when he's crying. Changing stinky diapers is definitely something I don't love, nor the smell of formula all over my clothes, but being able to cuddle his tiny form in my arms and have his minuscule fingers clutch my own as he eats from the bottle centers me in a way I haven't been able to do in some time.

I really do think babies remind us to slow down, to experience life in the moment. They teach us to look for the simple joys in life, like the wonderment of having someone truly happy to see us, or the ability to make another of God's special children feel safe in a sometimes scary world.

I am so grateful for the opportunity to babysit little baby Cullen, for he has brought an awful lot of joy into this home of ours. I am also grateful for the change in my own attitude, my thoughts, and my ways of approaching life that allow me the chance to enjoy this little boy, to see my own children respond to having another "little brother" in the family. Even if it is only twice a week.

I am a Mormon, a Wife, a Mother, and a Daughter of God

2010-10-11T22:25:00.000-07:00

When I first began this blog - how many years ago? - I did so due to many different spiritual nudgings that now was the time. I didn't really know what this would evolve in to. Well, to be frank I still don't know what this is supposed to be all about, and perhaps that's okay. I don't gear this toward any one thing: cooking, crafts, art, politics, religion, etc. Somewhere deep inside me there was this burgeoning hope of it including a little bit of everything to help those who are not familiar with the Mormons and their beliefs/ways of life might get an insight through my own eyes.

I never thought it would include so many different aspects of my life, from silly little daily happenings to my struggles with depression. I also never thought anyone outside of my little circle of friends and family would be interested in reading the inconsequential (to me, that is) things I would have to say.

There are not too many out there who know this, but I feel as though the Spirit is indicating to me it's time to impart something special with those who share this blog with me. It was either right before or right after I started it that I received a message, peculiar in it's origin yet geared directly to my heart. I was told, in essence: people will read what you have to write.

I took this to be both a promise and a warning. The thought that my words might go out there and touch the life of someone I may never meet in this lifetime seems almost impossible...and exciting. At the same time I knew it was necessary to choose my words carefully. It's one thing to write about silly or even sad or interesting or opinionated subjects. It's entirely different to delve into religion.

The Monday after our semi-yearly General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I looked at my visitor's map and found myself stunned to see so many visits from states and countries who had never appeared before. It didn't take long for me to realize many of these visitors were probably looking in to just about anything they could find on the Mormons after Boyd K. Packer's talk - both truths and lies having been circulated. At that moment I knew, more than I had ever known before, why my Savior directed me to title this blog as I did.

Because people would come to find out precisely how a Mormon mother would respond to almost everything in this life.

We are all too prone to lump people into stereotypes, whether they be correct or mistaken. You bring up certain words and images flow into our minds: rodeo, the Bible Belt, beaches, skiing, housewife, alcoholic, Harry Potter, etc. We each bring with us the experiences we have gleaned throughout this life, as well as the impressions placed before our eyes and in our ears by those things we choose to watch and listen to. All of these combined give us images in our heads and feelings in our hearts, whether or not they be accurate.

Let me say this. The things we learn of in this world will not always be accurate. The more we, as human beings, learn and grow to understand how life works - the intricacies of bugs and flowers to atoms and cancer cells - the better our grasp on the big picture becomes. It is my belief the more we learn about this amazing experience called life, the more we can grasp God's handiwork in it. We can know for ourselves the vitally important fact that He is in charge, He knows and understands our hesitations and questions, and He believes in us, even during those times we choose not to believe in Him.

We are all extraordinary children of God, the Father. Whether we be African, English, Indian, Polynesian, Canadian, Mexican or American. Whether we be Jewish, Catholic, Seventh Day Adventist, Hindu, Buddhist, or even Athiest. Whether we be rich, poor, selfish, selfless, or somewhere in between, He loves us all. This I can promise you Mormons believe.

So think to yourself, when I say the word Mormon, what comes to mind? Ask yourself if the things you feel, remember, imagine are things you've experienced for yourself or have come to you through others. Have you paused long enough to go to our Father to ask Him if what you think and feel are accurate? It's okay to question the beliefs of the Mormon faith, just as it's okay to question the belief of any faith. Yet we need to kneel down and ask the one being who will be honest with us, no matter how we may like - or not like - the answers. Just remember to come to Him with a humble heart and a contrite spirit, with the desire to know His truth. Not our truth. Not my truth. Not the world's truth. Just His.

I am a Mormon. I am the wife of a bishop in this church. I am a mother to five beautiful children. I love the youth with all my heart. I enjoy serving others, and being at home with my kiddies. I am a writer. I am a dabbler in hobbies. I am an avid reader. I am an avid learner. I am a listener. I am a song leader. I am a computer game player. I am a Facebook junkie. I am a daughter. I am a sister.

But first and foremost, I am a daughter of God. And that is the role I cherish most.

I would invite you all to remember you, too, are children of a most loving Father in Heaven. Spend some time thinking and pondering what this truly means. Read the Savior's words as given in the Holy Bible. Read another testament of Jesus Christ in the Book of Mormon. Spend some honest to goodness time in this hectic, crazy world to rediscover your spiritual roots.

I would invite you to feel free to learn more about the Mormons, otherwise known as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Hiding

2010-10-03T19:50:00.001-07:00

A week ago I declared on my Facebook status I was going into "hiding" for a few days. Well, a few days turned into a bit longer than that.

By the time last Sunday rolled around I'd been feeling more than just a little frantic with life, and began to recognize some of the "warning signs" my counselor and I had discussed during our very last session together. I was feeling overwhelmed, overdrawn, and overdone. It wasn't to a horribly bad point, but I could see the warning signs coming and knew if I didn't do something quick, I'd be heading down the depression road once again.

So I decided to be proactive and remove myself from typical daily activities and get some things done around the house to shake me out of my normal routine. I stayed off of the computer for several days. I spent my mornings reading or crocheting while sitting with my youngest (she was in absolute heaven!).

I tried cleaning the house and doing laundry at the beginning of the week to give myself a chance to get through my jam-packed weekend without feeling harried. I even washed down the hallway walls - something that honestly hasn't been done in FOREVER!!!

Over the last several days I've slowly been reintegrating myself into life outside of my home, including all of my friends on the Internet. I'm still trying to keep things on the down-low, just so I don't back pedal right to where I was before.

During yesterday's afternoon session of General Conference, President Uchtdorf spoke about simplifying our lives when we begin to feel lost, or overwhelmed. It was as if he was telling me I did the right thing in backing off for a bit. He spoke of it being okay to slow down, and not feeling a bit guilty about it. We live in a fast-paced world where the quicker we can get things done, get to where we're going, or make things happen the better. Being able to accomplish a lot is definitely a wonderful thing, yet these bodies of ours - like any machine - need a chance to rest.

When we're going at full speed, we cannot focus on the slow and simple beauties of our lives, of this world, and of the people around us. We are too busy to listen for the promptings of the Holy Spirit. We forget to stop long enough to learn the lessons our Lord would have us learn.

My husband came home from a VERY long weekend at work. He is a chef who, with a wonderful crew, works to feed everyone involved with General Conference. This poor man was beyond exhausted today. Still, as he sat down with his family for the first time in several days to enjoy a dinner I actually cooked he couldn't stop saying how grateful he was - for the food, for his family, for this wonderful home we have created together. He was made to go at full speed all weekend long, but was able to slow down this evening and enjoy something as simple as a homemade chocolate cake shared with five crazy people whom he loves beyond words.

Of course, he will have to pick right back up with the fast pace of work tomorrow, and I will need to start getting ready to paint that hallway of ours, but we both learned to appreciate the blessing of slowing down, and/or going into hiding. Even if it was just a few hours for my hubby.

Light Up Your World

2010-09-20T05:43:00.000-07:00

As our ward choir was singing yesterday in church, I dropped my oldest over for one last practice about 8:30 am. During my ride home I listened to 100.3 fm, a local radio station that plays more sacred and religious based music on the Sabbath.

Even as I pulled up into my driveway a song I'd never heard before, by an artist whose name I could not even remotely pin down, began to play. Before turning off the car four little words were sung, immediately capturing my attention and not letting go even now.

"Light up your world."

We are all asked to be a light in this world, a light for righteousness, for love, for all the good things in life. A light that represents our Savior, His example, and His teachings. We have been told to be a light unto the world, a phrase that can sound daunting, perhaps to some even impossible. How can one person light up the entire world? How is it possible for us, who may never reach further than our own little neighborhoods, influece this vast and enormous world filled with people we may never meet in our lifetime?

Those four little words, just one of them changed, brought about a beautifully enlightening thought to my own mind: we don't have to light up the entire world, but we should be working our hardest to light up our own world.

Some of us out there are not filled with wanderlust. We do not crave the chance to travel from place to place, to move a billion times over, or to wander too far from home. I am certainly one of these people. So the circle of people I know is small compared to some. But this does not mean I can't have a great influence on that small circle of loved ones. It does not mean I can't be a light for those I meet in my own little, yet wholly satisfying, world.

Who knows how one kind word, one unexpected hug, one spontaneous compliment, or one experience in listening to the Holy Spirit's whisperings will influence the life of someone around you? It could be someone you've known your entire life. It could be the individual at the check-out counter at your local grocery store. Whoever he/she may be, you never know when holding up your light nice and high may cause another lost or hurting soul to be comforted, to be lightened, or even to start on a path of finding themselves closer to the Savior. All because you chose to hold up your one, seemingly insignificant light.

We don't need to light up the entire world, but when we choose to shine the light of Christ on those around us the effects might actually ripple to places we would have never expected. Our influece could be felt in places far beyond our own limited reach.

No, we don't have to worry about lighting up the entire world, but we should do all we can to light up our own world.

'Cause We're Awesome. That's Why!

2010-09-14T06:11:00.001-07:00

These days it's nothing to sniff at, managing to make it to number fourteen on the marriage anniversary list. What's even more incredible is the fact we're still going strong! So I've got two lists for you today. First, I'd like to give you the top five serious reasons our marriage works.

#5 - We communicate!!! If fincances are tight, we talk about it. If there's a problem at work or home, we talk about it. If we're feeling frustrated about something or someone, we talk about it! Communication invites intimacy, allowing each person to feel important in the other person's life.

#4 - We're similar, and opposites - and we embrace both in each other. My hubby and I are very similar in many respects: our love of service, we'd both rather be home than anywhere else, we enjoy reading and sharing what we've read, we're both peacemakers, etc. But we're also opposites in many respects: I'm a thinker, he's a doer; he's a morning person, I'm a night owl; he enjoys a nice tomato sandwich, I'd rather not (but thank you very much); he'll eat just about anything, I'm one of the pickiest creatures on the face of this earth; I help him chill out, he helps me be motivated. It works for us.

#3 - We're both very selfless, and even a little bit selfish. We're the sort who will give up everything at the moment to help the other (and he's done more than his share of this in recent months). We keep watch over one another, and notice when the other needs a pick me up. But we also know when to say, I need some help. As I learned from my therapist this last summer, if our own needs aren't met, we cannot help fill the needs of those around us. So if we need a little time to ourselves to read alone, or take a walk, or go to the library, we'll make it happen.

#2 - We make family a priority. I'm not even talking about our immediate family, but extended family as well. We have both been blessed with AMAZING brothers and sisters and in-laws. Our nieces and nephews are to die for, and our parents would move heaven and earth to help us out. We do not take that for granted, and lend our love and support whenever possible.

#1 - We make God a part of our marriage. We make Him a vital and essential part of our marriage. There is no doubt in my mind, without Him, we would not be where we are today.

Now, for the top five silly yet equally important reasons we've made it this far.

#5 - We share a love of Coke products. What?! GASP! For shame, Laurie. I know, I know. But there's nothing like seeing the face of my husband when he sees a bottle of Coke in the fridge that I got for him as a surprise. Or my delight when he's stopped off at 7-11 to get us a couple of Big Gulps before he comes home. Good times, people, good times.

#4 - We also share a love for teasing the children. It comes in really handy when one is trying to convince the children of something improbable (like we're having snake for dinner) and needs the other to act as though it's true. The hubbs is WAY better at the teasing, I'm merely the pupil. But I'm getting better at it.

#3 - Neither of us is way into sports. Nope. When hubby's brothers and nephews (and some sisters-in-law and nieces) get together to play some basketball, you won't see my hubby among them. And I love it. While others talk about this sports team, or who's doing what and being traded where, neither of us has any idea of what's being talked about. And neither of us, even just a little, root for the U more than the Y. Instead we sit back and enjoy watching the rivalry.

#2 - When we're old and gray we plan to share a room in a rest home. We'll both have Alzheimers and plan to flirt with the cutie in the bed next to us. A lot.

#1 - 'Cause we're awesome. That's why.

*** Author's Addition ***
My good friend Carol reminded me of something, and it's just too good not to put in. When all the kids are out of the house and we won't have to worry about any children saying, "Why won't you let us get one!?!?!", hubby and I are totally getting motorcycles and traveling the U.S. of A.!!!!! OH YEAH BABY

Book Reviews: Science Fair

2010-09-13T06:40:00.000-07:00

I was rummaging through the Walmart Bargain Book table when I came across a book front with a giant frog on the front. Add to that the name Dave Barry and immediately picked it up. Scanning down the inside book jacket I saw one sentence that clinched the sale: "He made the mistake of selling his dad's priceless original Star Wars blaster to a lunatic who thinks he's Darth Vader and travels with a large, hairy sidekick known as the Wookiee."

GOLDEN!!! This book was right up my boys' alley. For a whopping four dollars I became the proud owner of this completely awesome book.

I really do mean awesome. The authors are actually Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, both of whom have (apparently) put together a whole other series of books. This particular book, however, is absolute genius.

We start off in the land of Krpsht, where there are very few vowels and a whole lot of crazy. The leader of Krpsht is planning the destruction of America due to a grave insult to their country, one that simply cannot be overlooked. Their plot revolves around the science fair held at Hubble Middle School, where an insider is working to make their horrible vision a reality.

Here enters Toby Harbinger, your average, run-of-the-mill middle schooler who wants nothing more than to get through one day without being made fun of by the ME kids (you'll have to read the book if you want to know what that stands for!). Little does he realize his entire world is about to fall apart as a series of events takes him into the world of weird science, a lunatic man who uses a voice changer to make him sound like Darth Vader and wants Toby to help him steal more of his parents' Star Wars collection, a plot so twisted, so deeply hidden he becomes involved with the FBI in a desperate attempt to make ANYONE believe his claims something is wrong at the science fair, and - perhaps most disturbing of all - the Wienermobile. Every time you think to yourself, "This can't possibly get any worse for Toby," oh yeah, it does.

It may take a few chapters to keep your attention glued, but this book is entirely worth the read. I'd lend you my copy, but...uh...I'm already lending it out to just about everyone I know!

On My Bucket List: The 7-11 Man

2010-09-08T11:55:00.000-07:00

Just a short walk away is one of our favorite local convenience stores, the 7/11. It's owned by a family who take turns manning the store. I have enjoyed chatting with the husband and wife, and can even claim to have gotten a bit of conversation out of their daughter, who comes in to help out occasionally after school.

The one who poses a challenge, however, is the young man who is there most often. He could be a very younger brother, or perhaps an older son - it really doesn't matter. What gets me is he is so closed off! This attitude could easily be taken as being rude, arrogant, and/or just plain hating being there. I, however, think he's just shy and guarded.

I can't blame him. The family is of mid-Eastern descent, though I could not say precisely where they are from. In this day and age anyone of any color and nationality faces a world of discrimination and hatred for things they have personally never done and most likely don't even condone. But that's a discussion for another time.

When I come up to the register the young man won't even look at me. I'm okay with that, as I realize we all have certain reasons for doing, or not doing, something. Every once in a very long while I'll get him to look me in the eye, and consider it a huge accomplishment when I get more than a "You're welcome" out of him.

I've told my hubby more than once my biggest goal with this young man is to get him to smile for me, just because. If you've ever visited this particular 7/11 you'll know what a daunting task I have set before myself.

I've been slowly breaking down his barriers, though. I have made him almost laugh a few times. I always say hello, thank you, and have a nice day. For the most part he remains stoic, answering with as few syllables possible. But I remain undaunted.

Recently we took the kids over there to get Slurpees, and he was outside washing down windows. I had finished paying for our things and had started backing up to the door when it suddenly opened for me. I looked up in surprise and said, "Oh! Wow! Why thank you." I don't know what struck him as funny, but he gave me an honest-to-goodness, completely unguarded smile. It took my breath away, and made me even more determined to see that smile happen without me looking like an idiot.

So there's my first ever post on my Bucket List. We'll have to see if it's a goal I can accomplish!

My Mother

2010-08-30T05:51:00.000-07:00

During the month of August I have the awesome opportunity to celebrate the birth of one of my all time favorite people: my mama. Seeing as how August is almost over, I figured I'd better sit down and get to telling you about this amazing woman. After all, she is the woman who gave you all me :) Heheheeee.

My mother was born in the small town of-

Just kidding. Not going for a biography here. Instead I'd like to share with you some memories I have of this, one of my greatest heroes.

I remember having chicken pox as a kid. They were worst on my feet. My sweet mother would kneel next to the couch and very carefully dab on the lovely pinkish anti-itch medication. You may not think it, but there was a lot of love in every single one of those dabs.

It certainly wasn't the first nor the last time she took care of me while I was sick. She has cradled me in her arms, soothed fevers with a gentle touch, cried along with me as I received shots, sat in the hospital as I had stitches put in my eyebrow, held my hand as I lay in the back seat of our car while my daddy drove to get me to the hospital when my appendix needed to come out.

One evening, when I was a bit older, my younger brother had been driving me up the wall, down the wall, and maybe even across the ceiling a few times (sorry bro, but it's true). My cute mommy saw I was in need of some time away and took me to A&W's for a frosty mug of rootbeer, my absolute most favorite drink at the time. Because that's the sort of woman she is.

My mother worked at the high school I attended. I know there are some kids out there who would moan at the thought, but I never minded. Having her there was often a great comfort to me. I didn't always have an easy time during those four years. There was one particular girl my junior year who moved into the school and I befriended. She had some problems with socializing and ended up making my life, as well as the lives of many of my friends, utterly miserable.

One day I had simply had enough. I walking into my choir class and burst into tears. With a grateful heart I went to my mother and let it all out. She held me, as she has done all my life, and just let me cry. You see, I didn't know how to stand up for myself. I thought the best way to go through life was not to make waves. My mother has never felt that way. Over the next few days she talked with the teacher of a class this girl and I had together, she had one of the counselors who had met with this girl talk with me and another friend who was also involved about (without going into anything private) why this girl was the way she was, and basically just had my back! I don't know if she'll ever comprehend how everything she did at that time saved me.

She sat in the hospital room with me when my son had been taken from my arms, and was one of my greatest supports as we buried him just a few days later.

She has laughed with me countless times as we've chatted over the phone, and has become, as my teenage self would never have guessed, one of my best friends.

My mother is a strong woman. She'll be the last to admit it, will hem and haw try to think of other less-flattering ways to describe herself, but she is strong. She has had to watch as so many around her have been cruel to herself and to those she loves, as her family and friends have endured so much especially in the ways of illnesses, and through it all she has been a pillar of love, strength, and what it means to state the words "choose the right."

She doesn't think of herself as beautiful, or amazing, or anything special, and yet my world would be a darker place without her. I love her smile, her giggle, her beautiful eyes, and her curly hair. I love her hugs, her ability to cheer me up when I'm feeling down, and the way she can make a sandwich that actually feels like comfort food simply because "mom made it."

So Happy Birthday Mom: you are, without a doubt, extraordinary. And I will never let you forget it!

Changes

2010-08-26T12:20:00.000-07:00

The new school year always brings about huge changes. It involves getting back into a new, or even old, routine. I'm not just talking about the changes made for the children who attend school, but also for those of us left here at home.

My youngest, Miss A, has had a summer filled with her two brothers and big sister. Her Mama (that would be me), has been kicked off the computer for several months until the later hours of the night as the children seem to think they need electronics to while away so many hot, muggy hours. The house has been noisy, messy, and gloriously filled with the laughter of my children.

Now we're bored here at home. Little Miss A and I are aaaaall alooooone. I know, your heart is just breaking for us ;) Miss A has been adjusting to having the television all to herself, as well as the freedom to bring in all her toys and play with no worries a well-meaning brother might pick one up and run off in an effort to "have fun" with his baby sister. She kinda really likes being able to have Mom all to herself (even if Mom spends a lot of time on the computer).

Okay so maybe it's me that's bored. Well, hmm. If I have to admit it there's PLENTY to do around here, but none of it sounds even remotely fun. Add to that the need to get up at six in the morning when I'd much rather sleep 'till about eight or so, and I'm having a hard time adjusting as well.

I miss my kiddies. Though they can occasionally drive up the proverbial wall, they are my heart. I love laughing with them, doing things together, seeing their faces light up when I suggest going to the library or over to Toys R Us to look around. I miss having an hour or so together read Percy Jackson, or another book, together.

Now when they all get home from school it feels a bit like chaos. Everyone wants to talk at the same time. They're starving and absolutely MUST get a snack - which always seems to turn into an almost meal - and will pounce on the chance to get back on my..uh..our computer. Dinner becomes a rushed affair and right after is homework. By the time we all get a chance to really sit down and enjoy one another, it's almost bedtime.

Still, changes are good for us, and my children really do blossom through their experiences with teachers, friends, and even those who are not so much friends. I think it makes us all recognize what a blessing we have in our little home of love, where arms are always open, snacks about, and Mom and Dad are ready with hugs before bedtime.

Jeers to TV Guide

2010-08-19T06:31:00.000-07:00

The TV Guide has a Cheers/Jeers section wherein they feel free to let a show, actor, or organization know when they think something awesome or seriously lame has happened. They'll even open it up to readers to give their own opinions here and there.

I should not have opened up this week's TV Guide. To be honest I've been debating about whether or not to even renew my subscription as I rarely even check it to see what's on that night anymore. I do enjoy the articles they write, but to be honest I could always just check their website if I truly wanted to know who was doing what in my favorite shows.

But read this week's edition I did, and I grumbled at one of their main articles. TOP EARNERS could have been meant to let us oooh and aaaah over the money certain of our "favorite" stars are earning, though the article itself talked about how the actors of new shows will be getting less for a starting salary than before.

That's right, even the most popular shows out there are feeling the crunch of a harsh economy. These poor actors (even veteran actors) will go from a starting paycheck of $150,000 to under $100,000 ... PER EPISODE! Just to start out with! Oh, doesn't that just break your heart? Incredibly enough, one actor refused to take a job because the network/studio refused to go over $200,000.

In a time when a family of six (yes, I'm talking about ours) is struggling make it through life with a yearly income of just under half of that, and thousands of other families out there are struggling to even find some sort of income, it makes me more than mildly ill to sit back and learn what some of these stars are making (regardless of whether or not I absolutely love them). When I think of what I could do for my family with the money many of them earn from just one episode, I get angry.

The article felt like a slap in the face. There's no other way to describe it. So Jeers TV Guide, for not remembering the circumstances of many of your readers out here.

On This Sabbath Day

2010-08-15T12:08:00.000-07:00

On this sabbath day, I just want to let you all know you are loved. That's it. That's all. And yet it can be the difference between utter joy and despair.

Awesome is the power of love ♥

As a Man Thinketh

2010-08-08T12:40:00.000-07:00

Last night I posted on Facebook I hoped today would be spiritually filling. Never did I realize that not only would it fill me up, but I would struggle to figure out exactly what to choose for today's post. The children sang so well in Primary - even in the nursery! I found myself able to serve a sweet and overwhelmed sister by simply being a shoulder to cry on. I had a chance to go to choir practice today (something I haven't done in months) where we sung through one of my absolute favorite hymns. But it was the messages shared in our main sacrament meeting today that caught my attention the most.

As a child, a teenager, and young adult I used to love cloudy days. There was something invigorating about taking a walk or swinging at the park or even just sitting on my front porch in windy, storm like weather. I loved to watch the clouds rolling across the sky, see where they would try to touch the ground in a shower of rain, and most of all enjoy watching lightning streak across the sky.

Something happened over the years. Instead of enjoying the weather as I used to I found myself particularly depressed on cloudy days. It got so bad I would suffer the effects of seasonal depression through the winter months. I wondered more than once where my joy of cloudy, rainy days had gone.

The young, single adults in our ward (local congregation) have had a chance this weekend to attend a summit put on by the area leaders of our church. Men and women ages 18-30 were invited to attend a dinner and concert Friday night, a bunch of classes plus a carnival Saturday, and tonight there will be a spiritual speaker to tie everything together. My husband, as the leader of our particular ward, had the chance to attend as well. Today a few of those who went spoke to us in our main meeting.

Though the theme of the summit was "Find Yourself Through Service", most came away having been greatly influenced by one particular speaker (who had also been one of the entertainers at the concert the night before). He spoke about the way people think and how much it influences who they are and the way they present themselves.

The idea is simple enough: if you think negative thoughts you'll be negative. If you think positive thoughts you'll be positive. I believe the problem comes when we don't realize our thoughts are negative.

My therapist and I have discussed it a lot throughout my sessions. He's a big believer in our thoughts contributing greatly to the way we approach life. He told me our thoughts can come through so fast we may not even register what it was that just went through our heads. These thoughts are often formed during our childhood years, though the way the think about things can change (as mine did about cloudy days).

Dr. Jim gave me a copy he'd made of a bumper sticker he once found. It read: Don't Believe Everything You Think. That's right - believe it or not the things we think are not always true. We can even change the negative thoughts that come automatically by recognizing them when they happen. For example, someone makes a mistake. Their automatic thought is, "I'm so stupid. I can't do anything right. Might as well give up." If we see ourselves thinking along these lines it's time to stop, to rewind, and instead say something like, "I made a mistake. That's okay. I'll remember what I did wrong and try again."

Doesn't that sound easy? I think so. Give it a try this week. If you find yourself in a really bad mood and you don't understand why, do a little backtracking to figure out where the negative thought hit, then change the way you think. When you go to bed at night, review your day, let the bad thoughts go, and just remember all the good things. When you wake up in the morning, start your day with some positive thoughts. See if you find a difference in the way you approach your day, in the way you are able to handle your problems, and even the way you look at yourself.

This last week we've had some rainy weather. I could actually sense the dark feelings approaching. Instead of embracing those, I went outside and just stood in the wind, feeling it rush over me, and for the first time in many years I felt invigorated again. It was beautiful.

What Does Your Body Language Say About You?

2010-08-05T13:25:00.000-07:00

I went grocery shopping this morning, not an unusual occurence. While there I was doing a little "people watching" as I went up and down a few isles, and one particular woman caught my eye.

She was heavier in her build, long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her skin looked fair and healthy, though her features held no expression whatsoever. But what really spoke volumes on how she felt was the way she stood.

Her shoulders were hunched forward and slumped down. Her head was also bent forward, as though afraid to glance up on the chance someone might actually notice her standing there. Every movement was small, hesitant. I wanted nothing more than to go over, take her shoulders, and push them back a little. I wanted to tip her chin up and raise the corners of her mouth to create a hint of a smile. Those three things would have made a world of difference.

I wondered how I looked as I walked through the store. I'm also heavier in my build, my long, red hair pulled back in a ponytail. This is where the similarities between the two of us ended. Though my skin may not be flawless I typically have a smile on my face. I prefer to keep my head up and shoulders pulled back as it helps my posture. And those three things perhaps make a load of difference in how I am perceived.

How do you think you are perceived? How do you hold yourself when you're out in public? Is it different from how you hold yourself when at home?

Just an observation :)

It's Okay to Say No and NOT Feel Guilty!

2010-08-01T11:56:00.001-07:00

For someone who only made it through Primary today, I'm feeling greatly inspired to sit down and write about a particular subject. There was a comment made by our stake leaders to the bishopric and Primary presidency about our lack of participation in the recent Pioneer Day parade. Our stake had put together a float that was chosen to be a participant in our biggest parade day for Utah. The children of the stake were invited to walk along with the float, and I hear there was one of the First Presidency in the float just behind them.

It's true our particular ward typically has the most attendance (though really not so much during the summer months), so of course at least one child should have been present, right? Three of those kids happen to be my own. My husband is the bishop. I myself am in the Primary organization. If anyone should have had a kid present it should have been us, right?

I am going to sit up straight, put on my sweetest smile, and say no. No. No! And I don't feel one bit guilty about it. Saying that one little word was not something I could have done just a few months ago. There was a time I would have pushed myself to do something I not only didn't want to do, but did not have the energy or strength to accomplish. I also would have resented every minute I felt forced to do it.

One of the things my therapist and I have been working on is changing my beliefs that everyone else comes first, my needs come last, and if I don't do it I'm being selfish. Turns out this isn't true. My needs HAVE to come first.

In Mosiah 4:27 we read: "And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order: for it is not requisite that man should run faster than he has strength."

"How do we know when we are running faster than we have strength? We develop physical and emotional symptoms. Continual stress triggers such physical symptoms as headaches, high blood pressure, stomach aches, ulcers, eczema, heart palpitations, etc.; ... stress is certainly a major contributor to depression and its symptoms, i.e. tiredness, crying spells, sleep disturbance - either sleeping too much or sleeping too little, appetite disturbance - either eating too much or eating too little, difficulty concentrating, forgetfulness, and suicidal thoughts. If a person develops these symptoms he or she is certainly 'running father than he [or she] has strength.'"

This quote is from my therapist's book "Spiritual Therapy". In chapter 7 which goes into neglecting our own needs Dr. Shelton talks about a question asked by President Harold B. Lee regarding our priorities and responsibilities.

"An anxious physician worried that because of his profession and church responsibilities, he was neglecting his own son, (and) asked President Lee how [he] should handle [his] time? What is most important in life? How do I do it all? President Lee replied: A man's first responsibility is to himself, then to his family, then to Church, realizing that we have responsibility to excel in our profession as well. He then stressed that a man must take care of his own health, both physically and emotionally, before he can be a blessing to others."

Imagine that. A prophet of God saying the one who should come first in our lives is...ourselves! Let's stress for a moment the fact that there is a difference between the things we need, and the things we want. Needs are essential for balance in our lives. We must eat well, get plenty of rest, take time to meditate, pray, exercise, read scriptures, and make this time you put aside for yourself necessary. Feel free not to answer the phone. Tell your children you'll fulfill their wants as soon as you're done with your hour. Set up boundaries so others will see it's good to make your own needs as important as those of others.

Even Christ knew it was necessary to take time out for Himself. He spent so much of His time teaching and healing and walking and doing the work of His Father. Yet when His body began to suffer, He would willingly go into the wilderness to pray. Once when He visited Mary and Martha, the latter sister became frustrated because she found herself doing all the work while Mary sat and listened to the Savior. When she thought to complain, Christ reproved her, letting her know Mary had chosen something to help keep herself balanced. Housework would always be there. The time at hand needed to be spent choosing to feed themselves spiritually. Had Martha recognized this, the frustration and anger that popped up would not have been an issue.

Many of the symptoms of running faster than we can walk listed above have been things I've experienced an awful lot of most of my life. I'm hoping to go more into some of the negative core beliefs I've had and how they have changed in the next little while. I wanted to go through this one today for one simple fact: I have nothing to feel guilty about. I love my church. I love my ward. I love the members and leaders of our stake. But I also love myself, and I know when it's necessary to say no to the expectations of others while saying yes to taking care of me. And there is no reason to feel guilty about it.

The truth is, not only myself and my husband, but all the members of the bishopric and our Primary presidency either already had something going on, or felt it was more important to take care of the needs of our family first. We cannot control what other choose to do, or not do, and there is no need to feel bad for what may appear to be coming up short in the eyes of others. Not even when fingers are pointing.

If I could offer you one challenge this week (one Dr. Shelton gives me continually), it's to take one hour a day out and do things strictly for you. Say no to those who might impose on this hour, and when the guilt comes take a deep breath, hold it, and then let it all go.

The Pros and Cons of Swamp Coolers

2010-07-29T11:35:00.000-07:00

I feel the need to complain at length today. Upon my triumphant return from grocery shopping it took less than a second for me to realize it was just as muggy inside my house as it was outside.

For those of us who live in desert areas, swamp coolers are a pretty good alternative to central cooling when looking at it from a financial point of view. However, on days like today the financial benefits aren't exactly outweighed by the problems swamp coolers cause.

For those of you unfamiliar with the workings of a swamp cooler let me quickly explain. The square unit sits upon the the roof where a very large duct leads into the house. When the cooler is being prompted to turn on, water first filters through four very large pads intended to help with the cooling process. When the pads are sufficiently wet the main blower turns on and sends the cool, moist air through the duct and into the house.

This might lead one to naturally assume summertime in the house is a bit on the damp side. One would be correct. I've had to rescue more than one child from their room because they closed the swollen doors and can't get them open. Then there's the food problem. If it's not in the fridge, or a can, or properly sealed, it's gross. Not only is it stale, but a bit gummy too. Not something you want in a cracker or chip. Seriously.

Still, these things can be dealt with, and due to the savings when it comes to money we don't tend to stress too much. I'm afraid the point in which having a swamp cooler becomes unbearable is when the humidity outside rises to such a point we can feel it amplified inside. Then we all feel the ugh!

Like today. I was pretty certain if it became any more humid in the house we'd see rain clouds forming in the hallway. All the floors feel damp, as does any bit of wood. With the increasing humidity outside comes another un-fun fact: no cooling. The air blowing in simply comes out feeling hot rather than cool.

The only way to help alleviate this added humidity is to turn off the water and just let the fan blow. Less humid, but yet again, more hot. Needless to say I'm grumpy. It's hot, it's humid, I'm getting a headache and all the ceiling fans in the world are not making me feel better.

Hey, at least I can admit it. And I can look forward to the day when hubby and I are so rich we can afford the central cooling without worrying about what it's going to cost us to stay below 76 degrees. Good times, people. Good times.

A Sweet Tribute

2010-07-25T11:41:00.000-07:00

I had the opportunity to speak in our main church meeting today, something I really quite enjoy doing. Last Sunday I posted a story the Lord blessed me with to give to the girls at camp the week before. Today I was asked to share that story with our congregation.

Afterward one girl - I say girl but HELLO! She's 19 now! - that I used to teach in the young women program came up to me afterward. With tears in her eyes she said, "I hate you." We both laughed as she continued to say, "You always make me cry."

Though when she began to cry in earnest I absolutely had to reach over and give her a big hug. "I really miss you," she said, and my heart broke a little. She's been feeling adrift lately, as she's no longer a part of the young women program, but not exactly a full-fledged member of the relief society (for women 18 and older). There's this terrible sort of in-between stage where you finally have to rely on your own testimony and find your way in this crazy world of ours.

We chatted for a few minutes, something we really haven't had a chance to do in a long, long time, and it became time to leave. But her message to me perhaps far outweighed anything I might have given her, for she let me know I meant something to her. And that's a gift I shall treasure always.

Girl's "Time Out"

2010-07-21T20:22:00.000-07:00

The constant heat and humidity has been taking it's toll on all our tempers. I've been impressed with how well I've managed (no...seriously!), but could tell my daughter was a few hours away from a serious meltdown. Mom and Dad have been asking a lot of her lately, especially in regards to watching her younger siblings while we attempt to accomplish our various obligations, and I'd been thinking for a while she deserved a little treat.

By the time we got home from visiting a few church members today there were two extra boys on M's hands (friends who'd stopped over to play with my boys) and she looked pretty well done in. When a spider appeared on the ceiling just above her during dinner, I could tell from her complete and total freak out it was time to take her away from the house and see if we couldn't put a smile back on her face.

Granted I'm not much of a last-minute thinker, and our usual thing is to go to the mall (I know, original right?). Instead of wandering through the various stores looking at things we've looked at before, we headed over to the dollar theater. Fortune favored us in the form of a movie M wanted to see and it was only rated PG. So we bought two tickets for "Letters to Juliet."

Definitely a cute movie. There are certain things I would have changed - like less time on her dwindling relationship with one guy and more time on seeing the new relationship form, but still cute. Best of all is M had a good time. She laughed a lot, loved all the mushy lovey stuff, and just plain had fun being out with her mama.

It took me back to an experience I had with my own sweet mama. My younger brother (whom I flippin' adore...just want to make that clear) had been driving me more than a little nuts. Oh come on, that's the top job of a little brother. My mom could see I was at my own patience-limit, grabbed her purse, and told me we were leaving. Next thing I know we're at Hires sipping a root beer in those awesome frosted glasses. I needed that little outing with my mom. I needed that chance to just plain chill.

I'm so grateful for my mother. She is so hard on herself at times, in particular when looking back at how she raised us (as so many of us do), but she has always been exactly what I've needed. So when I see myself doing something for my precious girl that she had done for me, I know I'm being a good mama.

Sunday Inspirations July 11, 2010

2010-07-11T11:37:00.000-07:00

I spent most of this week at our church's Girl's Camp participating as one of the leaders. It was hard, it was dirty, it was buggy, it was wet, and above all it was beyond awesome!

I was in charge of one of the projects, and decided to do up a little charm bracelet involving the colors which represent the values the young women of our church are given to help guide them through this crazy life.

Not until the last week did I also begin to feel there was a story that needed to go along with the bracelet, something to help make the meaning behind each stone more than just being something pretty to look at. The Lord gifted me with a story I feel needs to be shared far and wide, and so I invite you to pass it on to those you feel might benefit.

The Greatest Treasure

Once upon a time in a land so very far away there are few who even recall it’s name, there lived a King and his beloved daughter, Bethia. At only twelve years old Bethia was all ready considered a great beauty: flawless fair skin, eyes bluer than the sea, hair as dark as night. But more than this, one only had to look into her eyes to see there was a spirit of great strength residing there.

The King worried over the welfare of his daughter, as any father should. He knew the man who would wed her one day needed to be something more than wealthy, of royal birth, or flattering. No, for his precious girl there needed to be a man who knew the value of the gift he had to give.

And so he sent out a decree intended for anyone hopeful to wed the princess.

Let it be known the hand of princess bethia
Is not to be easily won.
Only he who is able present before the king
The greatest treasure to be found
Shall win her hand.

News spread quickly, even in lands so distant they were not known to the King. In only a few months men old and young began to show up, carrying with them jewels and gold and silver, fine silks and linens, even animals so rare some had never been seen before, all in the hopes of pleasing the King. Some brought everything they owned, thinking more wealth would surely buy them the prize of the most beautiful girl known to man – not to mention becoming heir to one of the richest kingdoms.

Yet each eager suitor was turned away. None of them understood what the king meant when he sadly said, “What you have brought is wonderful, but it is not what I am looking for.”

In the meantime Bethia was given a tutor to help her grow in knowledge and understanding. Much of what the King hoped she would learn seemed to come naturally to the young princess. Under the care and gentle teaching of the tutor Bethia grew to be almost as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside.

To the surprise of the kingdom years passed quickly by, hope waxing and waning with every hopeful prince, king, nobleman and even commoner who strutted into the castle grounds, only to leave puzzled, embarrassed, and angry. It wasn’t long before words were passed like vipers, striking at the name of the king whose daughter was too good for the richest and most handsome of men.

As time moved along fewer came calling for the hand of the princess. After all, she couldn’t possibly be as beautiful as the rumors said, thought those who were mildly tempted to try their hand. Why, thought others, should anyone try so hard for a mere woman? It was the king’s decree that got everyone so excited to try. In fact, when one stopped to think about it, king’s daughters were really quite common. There can’t possibly be anything extra special about this one. Such a fuss over nothing.

And so the King and his daughter were forgotten by most who did not live close by. The King mourned for himself and his daughter. Once his hope for a good man who knew what a treasure existed in his girl was thought, by him, to be a good thing. Now he wondered if he’d done them both a disservice. It gave him a lot to think about.

Shortly after the princess’s 18th birthday he noticed Bethia fingering a lovely bracelet on her wrist. It didn’t look familiar. He asked who had given it to her.

“Ben-Ad,” she said, speaking of her tutor. “Aren’t the stones lovely? Each one has a special meaning. He says they remind him of me.”

The King watched as his daughter continued on her way, toying with her new gift.

“Ben-Ad,” he said, wondering if…

What could the meanings behind the gems be? It was unusual for the quiet tutor to honor his charge with a gift, which only served to increase the King’s curiosity, and so he sent for his daughter’s teacher.

Ben-Ad came quickly, bowing his dark head low in reverence of his Master. “Sire, you called for me?”

For several seconds the King scrutinized his servant, trying to really see him for perhaps the first time. He had a pleasing countenance. His dark eyes radiated intelligence, indeed, but there was something more. There was laughter, also in evidence behind a mouth that looked ready to break into a smile. His form was fit, positioned in a stance to show respect, yet he also appeared relaxed, comfortable with himself and his surroundings. Even being inspected by the King didn’t appear to unsettle him.

“You gave my daughter a gift,” he said, and no more. Over his long years of ruling he’d learned you could tell a great deal of the measure of a man by putting him in an uncomfortable position. He was pleased when Ben-Ad at last let the smile escape.

“Yes Sire, I did. I hope it didn’t upset you.”

The King smiled in return. “Not at all. I was simply curious. Bethia said each of the gems had a meaning. I would like you to tell me about them.”

At that moment a door opened and in walked his daughter. She paused at the sight of her teacher standing before the King. Was that a blush suddenly coloring her face? At the same time he saw the tutor’s face briefly flush, and had to stifle his pleasure. Something told him here was a man who might be able to answer his prayers.

Ben-Ad reached a hand into his pocket, grabbed something, and pulled it out. His fingers stretched open just a bit so only his eyes could behold the object. The King watched the young man’s features soften for a brief moment, before he raised his head and asked to approach. A quick glance showed his daughter had not moved an inch.

“I have in my hand eight precious stones,” he began. “Ones your daughter and I have been studying the last few months. The princess asked me one day what I thought the stones meant. I didn’t understand until she began to tell me how the blue ones reminded her of you, and the gold ones of her mother. She even said the green ones make her think of me, her teacher.”

He smiled at his student, and the King watched her face light up.

“I began to think on her question, even then coming up with the idea of making her a gift of the stones. It was my hope that she could be constantly reminded of the beautiful things in her life and in herself.”

Ben-Ad pulled out a small, white stone, almost perfect in its color. He placed it in the hand of the King, who marveled at the beauty of something so tiny. “Your daughter watches you, Sire, and her mother. She sees daily your examples of unending faith and perseverance. Though she may not always understand why you do the things you do, she trusts you implicitly. Her faith in her parents, and others around her, is not to be taken lightly.”

The next stone placed in his hand was blue, the color his daughter said reminded her of him. In their land blue was a sign of royalty, a color he always wore. “This is to help Bethia remember she is the daughter of a king. There are things passed on from father to daughter that connect them in a relationship more precious than all the riches in the world. This father loves her more than she will ever know. At times he asks difficult things of her, like waiting to marry a man who will appreciate who she truly is, even if it means waiting for years. But these things are asked out of love. For she truly deserves someone who is just as willing to wait for her.”

It was extraordinary, the insight this young man had. His own daughter had never gleaned the truth, as the puzzled look on her face showed. Before he could ponder further the next stone was placed in his hand. It was just as small as the others, a shade somewhere between pink and red. It wasn’t very smooth, a bit ragged here and there, but no less beautiful. In fact, the individuality of the stone almost demanded his attention. Certainly there was no other like it here in the kingdom.

“I believe this stone is most like your daughter. It is unique, special, distinctive. Even though she is the daughter of a king, she is not like every other daughter of a king. She has her own irreplaceable gifts, talents, and abilities, her own individual experiences that have worked over the years to make her rare. As we all are rare. There is not one person who is like another, and I believe this is something she should celebrate.”

Ben-Ad smiled as he next placed the light, green gem in the hand of the King. “I have dubbed this one knowledge. Not for myself, Sire, but rather for the knowledge your daughter has gained. She has a teachable spirit and a love for learning. There is no doubt she will continue to educate herself, as she should. I believe we should all strive to learn everything we can in these short, mortal lives of ours. Some of the most beautiful minds on this earth are those open to discovering new things.

“I had to laugh a bit when the princess saw this gem.” Ben-Ad dropped two interlinked, perfectly round orange balls onto the King’s palm. The King laughed out loud, then beckoned for his daughter to come near. Her laughter mingled with his as she caught sight of the gem. Though he’d never understood why, Bethia had never liked the color orange. Seeing it on her lovely bracelet must have been upsetting. She nodded to Ben-Ad to explain.

“Just as the princess might not choose to include this color in anything, we are sometimes asked to make choices that may seem unfair, hurtful, or mean. Sometimes the choices we make are wrong, and we must face the consequences of those wrong choices. Even if she is a princess, she is not perfect. But that’s okay, so long as she learns from her mistakes, and makes the better choice next time.

“Then there are those choices that are hard because others will complain, mock, or cry unjust. Well, that is the choice of others. Yet she must decide how she will act in face of adversity. Will she cave under the pressure and take back her choice? Or will she stick with what she knows is right?”

It didn’t seem real, everything the King was being taught in this simple interview. Not only was he gaining a new insight into his daughter, but also into the incredible mind that had been teaching her for several years. Why had he not paid more attention to this young man?

Next into his hand was placed a yellow stone. It shone bright as the sun.

“This one makes me think of service,” said Ben-Ad. “I cannot help but think of the joy brought to the people we serve. And I cannot help but think of the joy we bring to ourselves when we serve others. I have seen your daughter bring about good works without being asked. I have witnessed the faces of those she serves. They light up. They shine. They glow with happiness. In the process her own countenance shines.”

The next gem to find it’s way onto his hand was violet. It instantly made him think of solemn and sacred things, though he could not say why. What could this gem mean in the eyes of a learned man?

“In this I think of the Lord,” said Ben-Ad in almost a whisper. “I think of how well he stood up for that which is right, even in the face of evil. I think of all the times he quietly went about doing good, teaching good things, and living his life as though he knew those around him were watching.

“Yes there were those who loved and followed him, but there were also those who hated him. Time after time they tried to trick and trap him. Even Satan tempted him when he was at his weakest physically. Yet the Lord never backed down from doing what he knew to be right. He never went back on the things he taught. He is truly our greatest example of courage and integrity.”

All three remained silent for several seconds, pondering on the sacred words just spoken. The King could not hold back the flood of emotion pouring through him. It was as if he was just given a special look at the Lord through someone else’s eyes, and he felt humbled. So lost in his thoughts was the King it took a moment to register the last stone placed in his hand.

It sat atop the others, shining with pure intensity. For this stone men throughout the ages had fought with one another, valued it even over the life of their loved ones, and sought to gain more and more. Over the years the King had begun to hate the sight of this stone, as hopeful suitors brought mounds of it with them, asking to trade them for his daughter.

It was gold. What could gold mean to him other than greed? He looked to the teacher, his teacher, for answers.

“I can see what you are thinking, Sire, and cannot say that I blame you. Let me see if I can’t help change your mind. It’s true gold has often been given away without a thought by those who don’t care to recognize its value. It is hunted by evil men who believe having more will make them happier.

“But I believe in something different. You see, Sire, I believe it is something precious, to be guarded and cherished. I believe it needs to be protected from the evils of the world, and ever cared for so it does not tarnish. I believe this gold represents everything else we’ve been talking about. It is the goodness and virtue within all of us.

“When we keep ourselves pure, unstained, and protected from the evil influences around us, we are more able to shine in the light of the Son, so that others who see us will want to know what makes us glow. However, I also believe this is a lifelong process. Every time we find ourselves discolored, we must work to clean ourselves up and glow again. But one day, if we follow what all the other stones represent, our golden selves will be fit to stand before the Lord.”

For several minutes the King pondered the brightly colored stones in his hand, awed at the gift presented to his daughter. “May I keep these?” he asked in a soft voice, looking up long enough to see the tutor nod before placing them into his robe. When at last he trusted his voice, the King stood and turned to face the two young people. He stepped forward and took his daughter’s face in his hands.

“Ben-Ad has given you a gift like no other,” he whispered, “and me as well. I am looking at you now and can hardly believe my eyes. How is it I have not seen the young woman who stands before me today? You are truly remarkable.”

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, then wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I have always wanted to give you a husband who would see you to be the greatest treasure. Would it please you, my daughter, if Ben-Ad were to be that husband?”

She trembled, barely able to contain her joy. “Yes, Father.”

He turned to Ben-Ad, whose wide eyes and tight lips expressed wonder, hope, and excitement. The King took his daughter’s hand and placed it in that of her teacher, her friend, her love. The elation shared between the two could hardly match that of his own. At last he’d found a man worthy to wed a princess.

Sunday Inspirations July 4, 2010

2010-07-04T11:48:00.000-07:00

I simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to share with you my love for this incredible country. It's true we're in a state of turmoil right now, but it certainly doesn't stop the majority of us from remembering upon what this nation was founded, and who's heavenly guidance helped to make it a refuge for many who have been downtrodden.

There will always be those who will take advantage of the system, and others who think they know a better way, but God's way will always triumph and will happen in His own timing.

At the end of our meeting in church today we all stood to sing the Star-Spangled Banner. More than one eye misted over as the import of the words struck us anew. I'd like to share those words with you now.

Oh say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through thru the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream;
'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Oh, thus be it ever when free men shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserved us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust!"
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Independence Day is not about fun fireworks and picnics and sparklers. It is about the battles we have and will continue to fight to ensure this land remains sacred ground for those who would live the life of the free. It is most assuredly the home of the brave.

Happy 4th of July everyone!

Oh the Anticipation

2010-06-29T06:36:00.000-07:00

My youngest is preparing to turn a year older this week. She's been waiting for this day since her father's birthday back near the beginning of the year. Upon discovering there were several more birthdays (including a few extended relations), the thought of her birthday finally arriving was beginning to look like an unachieveable dream.

With some not-so-subtle hinting from her big sister, Miss A. at last decided she wanted a Tinkerbell birthday cake, and basically stuck to that decision...until yesterday. As we were flipping through the little book of ways to make sugar overloads even more fun by painting them colors and putting on toys so we can charge you more...

Wait, where was I?

Oh yeah. As we were flipping through the book we came upon a new and far MORE delightful cake decoration: a little Tiana and Naveen (from "The Princess and the Frog) picture with a toy ring. I have no doubt both toys will be relegated with great speed to the bottom of the toy box within the first 24 hours. But it's all to make the little princess happy on her birthday, right? Right.

A Love/Hate Relationship

2010-06-25T08:48:00.000-07:00

I absolutely, without a doubt hate cleaning the bathroom. I would rather do laundry than clean the bathroom, even though the constant buildup of dirty clothes would keep me working for hours after the dreaded bathroom would be done. That's how much I detest this particular household chore.

However, there is something to be said for the moment the bathtub is no longer covered in soap scum, the toilet is free of everything toilet related, every shadow of toothpaste has been removed from the sink, and the floor is water-mark free. For those few minutes I can look upon our tiny bathroom and think, just for a moment, it was worth the grossness.

Too bad it never lasts. The inevitable cry of "I have to go to the bathroom" explodes from the mouth of each and every child, and for some reason the very short walk from the living room to the bathroom manages to cover them with dust, mud, spaghetti sauce, chocolate syrup, and jam. Maybe it's because they have to pass the front door and the kitchen to get to the bathroom. I'm not sure yet. All I know is by the time they're all done in my freshly cleaned chore of a room, it's dirty again.

Ah well. At least I have a week off until it's time to clean it again!

The Beauty We See

2010-06-24T09:28:00.000-07:00

I've been enjoying some fairly awesome roses the last few days. They have been in full bloom and the scent is just heavenly. I was thinking about the beauty we see in nature, not only flowers but trees, streams, lakes, butterflies, ladybugs, and other marvels. Each and every one of these things was created by our Lord. We are hardpressed to look at them and think anything bad of them.

Well, except maybe when we see spiders (shiver).

Yet when it comes to ourselves, the pinnacle of God's creations, we are so apt to be critical. We wish we were skinnier, more toned, had more muscle, had less freckles, had different color eyes, or a better head of hair. We look at ourselves and instead of seeing the beauty, we look for the imperfections.

What if we were to do the same thing to the above flower. When one takes a really close look one can see imperfections as well. What if the flower could speak, and criticized itself as we do to ourselves? One of my petals is ripped, I don't like my color, there are too many leaves on my stem, these petals are curling too much, and some are starting to wilt.

Does it sound a bit silly? Especially when we can only see how absolutely gorgeous it is?

We are the most beloved creations of our God. Take some time to look at and recognize the beauty in yourself. Make a list of ten things you love about the way you look, or gifts you might have. Add to this list as time goes by. Ask friends to add to the list as well. Then when you feel apt to think the worst about yourself, you can come back to this list and see the truth!

Sunday Inspirations June 13, 2010

2010-06-13T11:52:00.000-07:00

Thursday morning my husband kissed me goodbye as he left for a few days. He had the opportunity to attend a Stake Youth Conference with the young people of our ward. Needless to say, but I'll do it anyway, we missed him terribly here at home. My husband, on the other hand, had a wonderful experience. This did my heart an awful lot of good as he has seemed quite burdened lately with hardships at church, work, and even here at home.

The conference was held up at a popular Utah attraction called This is the Place Heritage Park. The youth, ages 14-18, were given the chance to go on a handcart trek. You see, in the history of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (nicknamed the Mormon Church) members were forced to go west in order to find peace from those who opposed them.

Many groups did not have access to horses and wagons, and put all their earthly belongings in a handcart which they proceeded to pull across the vast expanse of the United States until reaching a place Brigham Young, then president of the Church, declard as their new home. The second day at the conference, the youth and leaders were given a chance to recreate one small portion of this trek.

Those who were able to find the necessary items were asked to dress in period clothes, to help get into character. Each "family", consisting of a "mother", a "father", and several "brothers" and "sisters" were given one handcart. Back in the time of the original trek these carts might hold up to 500 pounds. For the purposes of this trek there was no where near that much, but still a good bit of weight was piled in.

Along the journey one family member would get sick and need to climb in to the handcart to be pulled by the other members of the family. They would occasionally be stopped by a member of the Park who tell them stories of real people who had made trek so many years before, recounting experiences, feelings, and difficulties.

The part of the trek that hit the members of the trek more than any other was a time when the men and brothers were asked to come with one of the guides. You see, while on the trek the government came to the members of the Church to ask for volunteers for an army. Many of the men and boys accepted, as they'd be compensated for their time and service, and most of these families had no money to their names. This meant there were mothers, grandmothers, young women and children left to make their way alone.

One of the last parts of the trek included a rather steep hill. The "fathers and sons" were lined up on either side of the hill and told they were not allowed to help the women, nor were they even allowed to speak to the women, for the men were not really there during this time. Instead they were asked to simply watch, to think about their own mothers and sisters, and what it might be like for them to watch their families do this part of the trek with no help.

There was not a dry eye by the time the last handcart finally made it to the top of the hill. Each and every man there ached as they watched these incredible women work tirelessly to make this part of the journey on their own. Though I was not there to witness it I'm certain more than one hand reached out, more than one leg itched to step forward.

We cannot know what it is like to endure the trials of others without walking a mile - or in this case five miles - in their shoes. Each and every one of those youth, as well as the leaders, came out of the experience with a renewed respect and love for what the early members of our Church endured in an effort to find a place where they might not be tormented for practicing a religion they believed to be true.

I cannot thank those who put together the trek enough, both those in our stake as well as those at Heritage Park. It was an experience none of those who were given the chance to participate will forget.

Saying I'm Sorry

2010-06-11T21:50:00.001-07:00

It looks like I opened my cyber mouth and put my cyber foot in it. I'm not one to sweep my mistakes under the rug and try to pretend they never happened, and I won't do that here by deleting my last post. I would like to clarify a few things, though.

This friend of mine has been a friend for several years. We met through the site of an author we both love. Over time we've developed a strong relationship and have shared much. This is something I did not explain in the previous post.

I also did not put out there that she respects honesty, and will give it as well as she expects it back. If I'm being a dork, she'll let me know. If she's being an idiot, she wants to hear it. This is why I wasn't worried about posting about the recent weirdness in our friendship. For those who were concerned, she did read my post. My friend didn't realize how her actions were affecting me, we've sorted things out, and we're good again.

I am sorry to those I may have hurt. I don't know if the things I wrote were personally offensive, or if there was some form of misunderstanding, but I am terribly sorry. I have never intended, nor do I ever intend, to use this forum as a way to backbite or slither around issues. I take my writing very seriously. If I sounded rude or mean, I apologize, and can only hope you will forgive me.

Do You Ever Get the Feeling?

2010-06-09T09:15:00.000-07:00

Do you ever get the feeling someone really doesn't like you? Well, maybe that's going a little too far. Let me explain.

I have a person in my life whom I know primarily over e-mails and Facebook. She has been going through a VERY difficult time the last year - things I cannot possibly even begin to empathize with as I have (thankfully) never had to deal with them myself. The thing is, she refuses acknowledge anything might possibly be wrong. I hear most of what's really going on through her family.

This...friend...for some reason needs everyone in her world to believe life is just perfect. Yet when one takes a close look at her letters and such, one can see the sadness hiding therein. Perhaps it's because I've read "between the lines" a few times too many and tried to get her to open up, but recently she seems to have placed a good, solid, concrete wall between us.

"I'm just fine," she says. "I don't know what you're talking about," she'll write. It gets frustrating for me for one simple reason: nobody's life is perfect. Everyone - even the happiest of us all - have things not going as well as we'd like. So to say there is nothing wrong, especially when her writing is telling me different, feels a little like a slap upside the head.

Obviously today I'm just feeling frustrated, but I do find hope in the fact I felt like sitting down and writing about it. Writing has not felt like something I've wanted to do in too long (part of the depression my counselor says). I just can't help thinking that someone cannot feel truly connected to the people around him/her if he/she is not willing to open up and be themselves, good and bad included.

Of course I realize people protect themselves from getting hurt and most often have a billion wonderful reasons to keep to themselves. But when you start coming off as fake, when I can see the heartache behind the "I'm just fine," well, what am I supposed to do? Do I leave her to wallow in the misery she won't acknowledge, or do I continue to stand in front of the concrete wall hoping one day it will start crumbling down?

Knowing me...I'll still be standing.

Sunday Inspirations June 6, 2010

2010-06-06T15:39:00.001-07:00

Several months ago I was asked by my friend to crochet a baby blanket, hat and booties for a very dear friend of mine who had just found out she was pregnant once again. She'd struggled with her previous pregnancies, as well as with her health, and is many years older than me. Well, I had my last baby at 30, and I thought it might be the end of me. And that was a few years ago!

My friend and I had bonded about the time I gave birth to, then lost, our little D. We've had discussions of a spiritual nature that have opened my eyes to what an extraordinary woman she is, and I have always counted myself as honored to be numbered among her loved ones.

Of course I said yes to the project and immediately set to work picking out just the right patterns. The only thing my friend requested was for the colors to be red and white. OH how I wish I'd thought to take pictures. I even thought about it as I handed the bag over for the baby shower. But perhaps it's okay that there were no pictures taken. After all, this was a special gift for a very special friend.

I received a call this morning from this friend. I did not answer the phone as I was too sick to get out of bed at the time, but was greeted later this morning with a most beautiful message. You see, she had asked me to put together this little layette as a special gift for the baby blessing today in her ward (local congregation). As she bathed and dressed her little man in the things I'd made with love, she had to stop and give me a call to express her own love.

Oh how my heart was touched. Oh how I ached to be there to see the wonderful event. Yet it was enough to know a little something I had done, with a gift my Heavenly Father had granted me, was there with them today.

A friend wrote to me today and left me with the words: As you show kindness and love, that love is amplified to you an hundredfold.

I think if our Savior were to ask us to send out a message at this time, one that could help heal many a shattered heart during these trying times, it would be to show increased love. We have all been granted gifts, given with a purpose, to help bring forth His kingdom. Let us all find a way to use them in love, and I can promise you'll find yourself feeling more loved in return.

Good Times with Laurie's Family!

2010-05-26T09:17:00.000-07:00

This post should be titled: more pictures than you probably want to see. However, it's my blog so I get to put up all I want!!! (Blogger went weird with the pictures and setting of the words, so I apologize now for whatever just doesn't make sense!)

My big brother came for a visit with his little girl. This was the first time I got to meet Baby B, as her family keeps her locked away in Kentucky so I don't have easy access. For rude, I know.

Some of Baby B's favorite activities include: pulling Daddy's leg hair, sucking on necklaces, and making sure Aunty Laurie stays at least five feet away at all times.

On our first visit little Miss A and I got to spend some time with Grandpa R. TOO CUTE, I say.

Daddy was not allowed to go anywhere without his baby girl. Here's what happened when he needed to use the bathroom. Like any good aunt, I grabbed the camera to get a good picture of the horror.

Fortunately it didn't take long for the big giant to rescue the princess. Wait, what fairytale is that?

We invited Uncle J to come at our house when his cute wife arrived in town (she'd been gone at a work conference). Seeing as how they were the givers of the xbox that saved my computer from rough handling, we thought he should get the chance to come battle the boys in some fun Star Wars games. Aunty M and I were giggling cause Uncle J has a habit of moving his jaw back and forth while concentrating REALLY hard.

Baby B stayed close to Mama as much as possible (still making sure Aunty Laurie didn't get too close), but it didn't stop various cousins from trying to get close and cuddly.

"Why, Mama. Why don't they just go away?!?!?!"

The next day all of the Reynolds clan got together for a big family picture. Here are a few pictures of us playing together.

Like any good uncle, both my brothers ganged up on my oldest for a tickle-fest. (Yeah. Notice I just RUSHED right over to help her!)

This little Troll doll has been around from the time my bros and I were teens. And his eyes still light up! He became a bit of a fixture during our escapades.

This is the newest addition to the Reynolds' clan. Isn't she ADORABLE!?!?!?!

Baby B finally gave up and fell asleep.

Here's Cousin S chillin' away from all the craziness.

And what's a family reunion without some torturing of the boys? Frankly, I was rooting for my brothers.

I think they won!

So there you are. Good times were had by all. Only a few meltdowns happened. And though Grandma R was probably offering thanks when we all finally left, she was sad to let everyone go. I'm missing them all, already.

Sunday Inspirations May 23, 2010

2010-05-23T11:46:00.000-07:00

We had two missionaries speak today in our main church meeting. They were relating two specific stories from the Book of Mormon - Another Testament of Jesus Christ to us. One of the missionaries said something that struck me as being a perfect topic for today's inspiration.

Too bad I forgot to write it down! For the life of my I cannot remember what he'd said. Yet I repeated it over and over in my mind so I wouldn't forget. Obviously that's not working for me. Yet I choose to turn this sad testament of my leaky mind around and say perhaps that's not what the Lord wanted me to write about today, so He's taken it from my mind.

See how I did that? That's the power of POSITIVE thinking. I've had an awful lot of practice in trying to think positive this week - and trust me when I tell you it hasn't been easy. One of my greatest challenges this week has been asking for help.

Thinking positive isn't necessarily easy. Just ask my oldest. She's definitely a "glass half empty" kind of gal. If something could, possibly, just maybe, kinda, sorta have a bad ending, she's sure to think of it. For the last few months I've been trying to work with her in changing her thinking, but how can I really do that when I've struggled with it myself?

This is not to say we should be happy all the time. Certainly even the Savior struggled at times. He certainly grew tired, felt overwhelmed, and even mourned.

"When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled, And said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto him, Lord, come and see.

"Jesus wept.

"Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him!" (John 11:33-36).

Christ knew death was not the end. He knew it would only be a moment before Lazarus would live again. And yet He wept. Not only for His own pain, but for the pain and despair of those He so dearly loved. He took up on Him their pain.

Christ knew fear when He took upon Himself our sins, our trials, and our mortal weaknesses. He knew fear more than any of us could understand when the Spirit of God withdrew from Him, causing Him to cry out, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46).

Christ knew anger, or righteous indignation. He went to visit the temple, the House of God, wherein He found people selling their wares, animals, and other sacrilegious things. Did He become angry? Yes. Enough to make a scourge, turn over a few tables, and send these men out of the temple.

"And he taught, saying unto them, Is it not written, my house shall be called of all nations the house of prayer? but ye have made it a den of thieves" (Mark 11:17).

Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was perfect. In all ways He was perfect. Yet even He feared, He became angry, and He mourned. What do we learn from this? It's not necessary to be happy all of the time! I think we all have a tendency to think the road to perfection means we'll appreciate everything and love at all times and never speak a harsh word. We set ourselves up to believe we're failing if we experience these emotions.

But this is not what the life of Christ has taught us. He taught us that even when we fear, we must have enough faith to go through the scary times knowing the Father is watching over us all. He taught us it's okay to be sad even when we know what wonderful things are waiting for us on the other side. He even taught us it's necessary to reprimand when someone has done something wrong - though I would add to this judging is not for us to do, neither is ruling in unrighteousness. Christ did not hurt anyone when He turned them out of the temple. He tipped over the tables, used His words to reprimand, and did all this because wickedness was occurring in a very sacred place.

In other words, it's okay to be mortal. Our glass will not always be have empty or half full. At times we will find our cups overflowing with goodness and light. Other times our cups will only have a few drops of goodness in it. No matter how we try to be positive, we will sometimes find ourselves sad, or fearful, or any other negative emotions. This doesn't mean we're slipping further away from perfection.

What matters most is what we decide to do with those emotions. Will we allow them to overwhelm us to the point we become stagnant in the gospel and in life? Or will we follow the example of our Savior and act on the negative to find the positive? For even when He mourned there was joy to be found when Lazarus was raised. Even when He turned the wicked out of the temple, forgiveness was there for those who chose to repent. And even when He feared there was faith enough to carry Him through.

Because of this, we have all been given the greatest gift possible - eternal life. So if you're feeling down, imperfect, whatever, don't despair. This too shall pass, and good things are waiting for those who act upon the negative in an effort to find the positive.

Sunday Inspirations May 16, 2010

2010-05-16T16:10:00.000-07:00

I hardly know where to begin. It's been one of "those" weeks. You know. The type that try a person's soul, that tests us to see what we're really made of. For today's Sunday Inspiration I decided to take just one experience and to talk about.

Home and food storage. That's right. Believe it or not I had my eyes opened just a little as to the benefits of home and food storage.

Okay so really, yes, I've always known it's important. After all, the prophets have been telling us to store extra food and toilet paper for decades!!! For most of us, however, we are not made to see exactly why it's so important. We try to obey, but it may never go beyond this.

For others the importance of building up a storage is brought home because either we, or someone we know, ends up in need.

I have two examples of how being prepared for emergencies can make a difference. Both, interestingly enough, have to do with water.

In a nearby town a water supply became contaminated with a vicious bug. It could wreak havoc on the stomach and digestive system if someone were to drink it. So every bit of water had to be boiled. Items in the house that were washed with the contaminated water had to be rewashed in the boiled water as well. Even toothbrushes had to be sterilized due to possible contamination. It was a horrible situation for quite a number of people, including a sweet friend of mine.

Closer to home, a church member and his family had a water pipe burst right outside their house. He went to go check on something in this place they had moved into only the day before to discover the entire bottom floor had been flooded by water. Because of the situation the water to their home had to be turned off. This meant there was not even a drop to make up a bottle for their baby. Needless to say this was also a situation no one could get through without a few more gray hairs on their heads.

A part of having a complete home storage system is to have water on hand as well. Whether it's little bottles you get at the store, 2 liter soda-pop bottles refilled and put away, or the (what I hope to have one day) 50 gallon drums one keeps in the backyard or basement, it's just as important to have safe water on hand as well as food.

So what's today's inspiration? Think of Joseph of Egypt, who was inspired to store grains during a time of excess so the people would have food during the years of drought. Look for ways to keep some water on hand. Seriously. If you never need it, great. More power to you. But maybe, just maybe, it could come in very handy one day.

Laurie's First Counseling Appointment

2010-05-13T14:03:00.000-07:00

I was nervous. Really nervous. Like giant bats in the tummy sort of nervous. For me it had little to do with saying or doing something wrong. Rather I was fully prepared for whoever it was to say, "You're fine. Why are you here?"

I was first asked to fill out some papers - I know, it's quite a shocker. Who would have thought a therapist might need to assess his patient? It was interesting, though, to sit down and take a good look at myself: how I handle things, my thoughts regarding myself, my relationships with family and friends.

In just a few statements, wherein I was asked to rate the accuracy or inaccuracy of each one as it applied to me, I began to see a pattern emerging. When it came to any statement involving perceptions of myself, I automatically marked down the worst number it gave me. I thought about that during the few minutes I had to myself before Dr. J came to get me. One thought in particular kept coming to the forefront of my mind: no matter how often those around me tell me how great or sweet or loving I am, I cannot see myself as being worthy of the compliment. There's always this niggling voice in the very back, darkened corner of my mind that asks, "Are you really all that great? Or are they just saying it to be nice?"

As Dr. J and I sat and talked, he began going over some basic questions to see where I stood in my life. After just a few minutes he sat back and said, "Well, Laurie, I'm not quite sure why we're here talking today." Oh no! This really WAS a waste of his time! Luckily he didn't stop there :) He asked what ultimately brought me in and I began to describe to him all that had been happening lately with my depression, my struggles at not being able to fix things for everyone, and how much I wasn't able to handle stress in my life. Then I told him what I hoped to get out of our sessions: when the depression triggers would start and I could tell things might go downhill quickly, I wanted to know the tools to help myself before the depression took over.

After quite a bit of talking he began to tell me about Cogninive Therapy, something he wanted to try with me. He said there were three different areas involved in treating depression. I've already tended to one with medication. The other two involve environment and attitude. All three sections affect each other. They interlock. If one begins to falter, the other two will soon follow. Conversely, if one is in the depths of depression and begins working on just one area, the other two will begin to get better.

I could see some truth in that. I've been on medication for about a year, and while most of the time I'm doing really well, I still struggle. As I listened to Dr. J I realized it's because I've only changed one area without focusing on the other two.

He recommended a book, "Mind Over Mood," by Dennis Greenberger and Christine A. Padesky. It's a workbook he said had helped so many of his patients, and he felt as though it could help me as well. He gave me an example of how our initial thoughts in any situation can influence our mood.

Think of a man who hears a crash in the middle of the night. If his first thought is, "Someone's breaking into the house!" how is he going to feel? Frightened, anxious, etc. His body will react to these initial thoughts. Now what if this same man hears a crash in the middle of the night and his first thought is, "Darn cat!" what might he feel? Annoyance, irritation, etc. Two very different thoughts creating very different reactions.

Cognitive Therapy is supposed to help me recognize the trouble thoughts and replace them with others that will have a healthier impact on my body and mood.

I just picked the book up today. It cost a bit of money, about $25, but what I really like is all the worksheets they want you to do are recopied into the back of the book in case you need to make copies.

I go in for my next appointment next week. I'm hoping to have gone through the first chapter by then, but I don't want to rush through the book. I want to take this slow enough to really understand what I need to fix so I can be a much happier, healthier wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend.

Sunday Inspirations May 9, 2010

2010-05-09T11:39:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!! And I don't care if you've given birth to a billion kids (owie), adopted or fostered a million more, teach children/youth, are an aunt, or have in any other way influenced a child for the better, you get to be celebrated on this day. And now for my dedication to mothers:

SHEDDING THE DAY

Michael took one look at his wife and ordered her off to their room. One by one he collected their three children and after much squealing, wiggling, and story-telling, got them all settled for the night.

He found his wife, Kayla, slumped on the end of their bed. He could hardly see her bowed and frazzled form under the millions of uniforms she'd had to put on today. Like an eternal day of playing charades, he thought.

With silent steps he slipped over to her hunched form, reached up, and took off the chef's hat. "Breakfast, lunch and dinner, not to mention a billion snacks in between," she whispered. Kayla had never even boiled water before they married, and now most days found her feeling like a short-order cook.

One by one Michael peeled off the military boots. "It's not like the beds were going to make themselves," she sighed. It was no fun acting the part of drill-sergeant. He admitted to being surprised she could get the kids to tow the line. Her heart was so soft she should have been a pushover. Not his Kayla.

He pulled off the horn-rimmed glasses and pried the calculator out of her hand. "Balanced the checkbook. We're good for another month," she said. Though she had a good head for numbers, taking over the household finances had been daunting. He'd kept her at it, though. That was something his father had taught him to do, in case the unthinkable happened. She needed to know how to take care of things.

The apron slipped off her hunched shoulders and dropped from her slim waist. He took his time in taking the rubber gloves off her hands. "I'm only using paper plates tomorrow," she said. "He chuckled. "Too many dishes?" She nodded, at last able to move her head. It was a good sign when she began to joke.

The weights strapped to her ankles plunked to the floor. "Walked a mile in 'em. Look at those calf muscles. Pretty soon I'll make Popeye jealous." He watched as she stretched her long legs, and thought about how many unnoticed miles those legs walked during the day, taking her here, there, and everywhere, all in behalf of her family.

Michael noticed her unnaturally bulging arms. There was no way those make from lifting weights. He reached up her sleeves and began pulling out a dozen little socks. "And everyone thinks the dryer eats them," she said with a laugh. "I'll take care of them later," he promised.

It took some effort, but at last he worked off the doctor's coat. "Three scraped knees, a bump on the head, and a cut lip," came her faint words. "Typical day in the Thompson household," he said. She smiled. This woman hated the sight of blood, but it didn't stop her when the children were hurting.

He was surprised to see the carpenter's belt hanging off her hips. "I finally got the shelf up in the kitchen." Michael had offered to do it a hundred times, but she insisted on doing it herself. Perhaps she was taking the self-sufficient thing too far.

The next coat was hard to get off. It contained countless buttons, laces, and buckles, as if it were purposely hard to shake off this role. Though it had started out white, the hearty fabric was now covered in several years worth of sticky hand prints, slobbery kisses, dried up tears, and hundreds of cuddle-causing wrinkles. Kayla didn't say a word as he at last worked her arms out of the sleeves. It was never easy for her to take this coat off, but he placed it gently on a chair next to the bed in case she had to quickly put it back on in the middle of the night. Emblazoned on the back in big, colorful letters was one, short word: MOM.

Only one thing remained. It stayed until they were both ready for bed. He hoped this role felt like more of a comfort than a burden, but sometimes he wasn't sure. She wore the lovely pink shawl as they talked, embraced, and prayed together. Just as he was about to drop off to sleep he heard his wife kneel on the floor, where the shawl labeled "Wife" slipped from her shoulders.

Her smile could be heard amid her sigh of, "Father, it's me. Just me."

The Benefits of Music

2010-05-04T09:13:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine posted a link to this article and I wanted to share it with all of you. I'm a huge advocate of the powers of music, and have seen it work miracles in many areas of my own life. Here's an article on how it can benefit the lives of everyone out there.

More than Melody

Sunday Inspirations May 2, 2010

2010-05-02T12:27:00.000-07:00

It was a most extraordinary Sabbath Day for me. There's no possible way to describe the love and laughter I experienced, not to mention the power of the Holy Spirit shared between church members.

Today was Fast Sunday in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We are given the chance to fast - or not eat - for two meals, and it is done with a specific purpose in mind. We may fast and pray for ourselves or for others, for those who suffer with bad health, or those who just suffer. We may pray for answers to questions or solutions to difficult situations. Or, as I did today, we can simply fast to show our obedience.

Fasting is not easy. Just ask any teenager. One young man from my own youth used to describe it as "Bad Breath Sunday." Many of us end up with headaches from lack of food, become ornery when our blood sugar drops, and may feel faint as the hours drag on. But ask any person whose health does not permit them to fast if it is a sacred and beautiful thing to do, and I promise you they will say, "absolutely."

Another of the many purposes behind fasting is the chance to allow our spirits to come to the forefront. We often think of satiating the hunger of our bodies, yet often forget about the hunger of our souls. These sacred creations need to be fed as well, and need to feel of the Holy Spirit often if we are to be truly balanced in our lives.

So on these Fast Sundays those in our church are given the chance to bear their testimonies, or speak of the witnesses they have received of the Spirit. We call this time, Testimony Meeting. Members of the various congregations are encouraged to stand up and bear a testimony about anything regarding the Church, Christ, and His gospel.

Oh what a meeting we had today. There are fasting days when long stretches of silence beg to be broken. Not so today. I have rarely been so blessed by the feeling of love, light and truth as I was permitted to experience today. And it all started with my son, B.

Just as the first person who stood to bear his testimony finished, B sidled up to me and whispered in my ear, "Can I bear my testimony?" I asked if he wanted me or Daddy to help, and he asked me to come up. Then he said, "Besides, if you come up and help me you can bear your testimony too!" I chuckled inside. Sometimes it really does take a child to lead us.

His testimony was simple, declaring the beautiful feelings of his childlike heart. With some help from Mom he expressed love for the Savior and our Heavenly Father, for his family, and said he knew the Church and the prophet were of God. How wonderful.

Once he was done he raced off the podium :) And of course it was then my turn. As a youth I used to bear my testimony often. For some reason growing older made me feel more reticent about sharing it. Not until my husband was called as a bishop did I find myself feeling the spiritual nudge to share it more often.

I never know what's going to come out of my mouth when I stand at the microphone. Sometimes I go intending to talk about one thing and find myself talking about something entirely different. Other times I forget what I said, and realize the words placed in my mind had nothing to do with me, but were meant for someone else.

That's how it was today. After I sat down I didn't remember much of what I said, but was instead given the gift of listening to the testimonies of many others. My own, wonderful husband, bore a witness to many truths that was so powerful I could feel the Spirit whispering to my heart his words were truth.

Two other testimonies in particular touched my heart immensely, and I wanted to share a little about them, as I used to teach them when I was over the Young Women.

The first was Emma. Though short in stature, there is nothing small about this remarkable woman. Her capacity for knowledge can leave one reeling, and there is no doubting the spirit that resides within is a giant among mankind. I remember only a few years ago sitting in my car at the end of an activity night, when she would ask, "Can we talk for a minute?"

Naturally that one minute lasted about an hour. Yet I never regretted one minute listening as she questioned choices her friends would make, whether or not she had a testimony of the Church herself, and wondering how she could stay strong to certain values when everyone around her chose to walk off the path.

I'm sure she has never felt strong, not when it comes to her self-image. Even today she seemed to question whether or not she's living up to the expectations of her family. Yet there is no doubt in my mind just being who she is - a creative, brilliant, passionate woman who does in fact know who she is even if she forgets every once in a while - happens to be more than her wonderful parents could have ever hoped for. She is my "sister" in so many ways, and I see a lot of myself in her. Listening to her mother express love for Emma soon after stood as a witness to how much she is loved.

The second was Maile. There are no words to describe this extraordinary woman and leave you with even an inkling of what one mere minute in her presence is like. She is sunshine and laughter and love and hope and peace all rolled into one. She makes you smile with just one word and can inspire others to be better, happier, and more true to themselves. And lately she has been lost.

The death of her father was a huge blow to the entire family. Though it happened a few years ago she still misses him more than mere words can ever possibly express. Her thoughts touched me today as she told us how she and her dad had never planned her life beyond college. When he died Maile suddenly didn't have a plan, and so college dragged on. How could she continue life when her dad wasn't around any more to help her plan it. I've watched her struggle immensely these last few months as she found herself forced to make decisions on her own. Depression hit her hard, and my husband and I grew increasingly concerned.

Guess what. She graduates Friday. She graduates!!! And now she has a plan for her life. She will be going on a mission for our Church, something many of us have felt was the path she needed to take. And the happiness simply poured out of her voice as she spoke those words. It flowed through the room and right into my heart.

Emma spoke of the times she's just "talked" with her Heavenly Father knowing He will simply listen. Maile spoke of how she needs to start having those talks with her Heavenly Father, for He is the one who will help her plan the rest of her life. And my heart sang with the chance I had to see two very strong women, who used to my "my girls," coming to find themselves in this very scary world. I consider myself honored to know them, to love them, and to be loved by them.

Today my heart is full, even if my belly is empty. My spirit has been fed and I am grateful to my Heavenly Father, to my Savior Jesus Christ, and to the Holy Spirit for filling me with their love, light and truth. I am truly blessed.

Sunday Inspirations April 25, 2010

2010-04-25T11:32:00.001-07:00

I was given the opportunity to speak in our main church meeting today. This talk came to me in a different manner than I've ever had happen before. The stories that needed to be included, the main subjects I was to address, all of this I was directed to. This is what I'd like to share with you today.

Many years ago Elder Jay E. Jensen of the Quorum of the Seventy related an experience shared with him by another General Authority.

"A little over a year ago, I had the privilege of interviewing a young man to go on a mission. Because he had committed a major transgression, it was necessary for him under then-existing policy to be interviewed by a General Authority. When the young man came in, I said, 'Apparently there's been a major transgression in your life, and that has necessitated this interview. Would you mind telling me what the problem was? What did you do?'

"He laughed and said, 'Well, there isn't anything I haven't done.' I said, 'Well, let's be more specific then. Have you...?' and then this General Authority began to probe with some very specific questions. The young man laughed again and said, 'I told you, I've done everything.'

"I said, 'How many times have you...' He said very sarcastically, 'Do you think I numbered them?' I said, 'I would to God you could if you can't.' He said, again quite sarcastically, 'Well, I can't.'

"I said, 'How about...' And the General Authority probed in another direction. He said, 'I told you. I've done everything.' I said, 'Drugs?' He said, 'Yes,' in a very haughty attitude. I said, 'What makes you think you're going on a mission then?' He said, 'I know I'm going. My patriarchal blessing says I'll go on a mission, and I've repented. I haven't done any of those things for this past year. I have repented, and I know I'm going on a mission.'

"I said, 'My dear friend, I'm sorry but you are not going on a mission. Do you think we could send you out with those clean, wholesome young men who have never violated the code? Do you think we could have you go out and boast and brag about your past? You haven't repented; you have just stopped doing something.

" 'Sometimes in your life you need to visit Gethsemane; and when you have been there, you'll understand what repentance is. Only after you have suffered in some small degree as the Savior suffered in Gethsemane will you know what repentance is. The Savior has suffered in a way none of us understands for every transgression committed. How dare you laugh and jest and have a haughty attitude about your repentance? I'm sorry, you are not going on a mission.'

"He started to cry, and he cried for several minutes. I didn't say a word. Finally, he said, 'I guess that's the first time I have cried since I was five years old.' I said, 'If you had cried like that the first time you were tempted to violate the moral code, you possibly would be going on a mission.'

"He left the office, and I think he felt I was really cruel. I explained to the bishop and the stake president that the boy could not go on a mission."

I'm going to leave the story here but promise we'll come back to it. For now I want us to think about sin. Most of the time sin does not happen all at once. We don't go from innocent to committing horrible sins in a flash. Instead we are enticed, drawn in, slowly but surely.

Many years ago as a youth my father came into our living room with copies of the same book in hand. He handed one around to each of us kids and we began a series of Family Home Evenings reading through Spencer W. Kimball's book, "The Miracle of Forgiveness." There is a fable President Kimball gives us that has stuck with me all my life: The Fable of the Camel.

"The camel and his owner were traveling across the desert sand dunes when a wind storm came up. The traveler quickly set up his tent and moved in, closing the flaps to protect himself from the cutting, grinding sands of the raging storm. The camel was of of course left outside, and as the violent wind hurled the sand against his body and into his eyes and nostrils he found it unbearable and finally begged for entrance into the tent.

" 'There is room only for myself,' said the traveler.

" 'But may I just get my nose in so I can breathe air not filled with sand?' asked the camel.

" 'Well, perhaps you could do that,' replied the traveler, and he opened the flap ever so little and the long nose of the camel entered. How comfortable the camel was now! But soon the camel became weary of the smarting sand on his eyes and ears, and he was tempted to ask again.

" 'The wind-driven sand is like a rasp on my head. Could I put just my head in?'

"Again, the traveler rationalized that to acquiesce would do him no damage, for the camel's head could occupy this space at the top of the tent which he himself was not using. So the camel put his head inside and the beast was satisfied again - but for a short while only.

" 'Just the front quarters,' he begged, and again the traveler relented and soon the camel's front shoulders and legs were in the tent. Finally, by the same process of pleading and yielding, the camel's torso, his hind quarters and all were in the tent. But now it was too crowded for the two, and the camel kicked the traveler out into the wind and storm."

It is in this precise manner Satan works on us. He knows if he pushes too hard, like asking to in the entire camel at once, we will deny him access. So he starts small: a nose here, an ear there. Once we say yes, we have opened the door to greater requests.

During my years in seminary there was a video shown that really quite affected me. There was a family, each one dressed in the brightest white, all happy, smiling, and enjoying being around one another. They lived in a house also entirely white - gleaming and beautiful.

Someone knocked on the door. One of the family members answered, and on the porch stood a group of people dressed entirely in black. The family hesitated to allow the group entrance, but after much begging and pleading they were finally granted access. With just one dark and dirty hand print on the door frame came the staining of the first sin. The strangers came into the house and began poking around, sat on the lovely furniture, leaving a stain with every touch. The mess was invasive, covering the furniture, the painting on the wall, the carpet, even the clothes each family member wore.

It soon became clear to the family these intruders needed to go. They didn't go quietly. It took everybody working together to finally force them all out the door. As the family looked around their home they became dismayed. The mess left behind was horrific! They tried to clean up, but the marks would not completely go away.

Then the Savior appeared. Only with His presence, through His atoning grace was the family and their home restored to it's former estate. Only through the help of the Savior.

It is here, brothers and sisters, that we come to the heart of repentance. Picture in your mind a scene set almost 2000 years ago. The Savior and many of his best friends have just partaken of the Last Supper, and have gone on to one of their favorite places, even the Garden of Gethsemane. Many times have they gathered here to pray, to sing hymns, to teach and be taught. Christ asks three of His friends to accompany Him further into the garden, to stand as sentinels as He begins this last, most vital part of His journey here on the earth.

Yet no mortal may watch the unfolding events, so Christ continues on alone. He finds a large stone next to which He kneels. Could it be in this moment He already feels the weight of guilt, of wrongdoing pressing upon Him? Here is a man who has never sinned in all his years. Not once. Up to now He has been compassionate to the sinner who truly desires to repent, sympathetic to those who suffer in sickness and sorrow, but never has He carried the weight of sin and suffering on His own shoulders until this very moment.

Is it any wonder He asks of His father as recorded in the Book of Matthew, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

Is it any wonder the sins and transgressions, sorrows and guilt of countless brothers and sisters from worlds without number would cause this remarkable soul - who held a relationship with our Heavenly Father that we can barely hope to comprehend - to pray more earnestly? What could possibly cause Him to pray with an intensity He had never seen the need for before? It was, simply, sin. For He knew in that moment the only way for Him to make it through this horrible time was to rely more on His Heavenly Father, even if He didn't completely understand why.

Brothers and Sisters, every single person in this room has sinned, has known the weight of guilt, has had cause to mourn. Every single person in this room has made a choice that has brought about harsh consequences for ourselves as well as those around us. Every single person here has had the need to repent.

But repentance is more than just turning away from sin. As we heard in the story of the young man it takes more than stopping a sin to repent. There is something deep within us that must change for true repentance to take place. We must come to our own Gethsemane.

We have a brilliant example of this in the Book of Mormon. I am thinking of Alma the Younger. Listen carefully to the words he uses to describe all that was happening to him, and think to yourself if you've ever felt this way before:

"But I was racked with eternal torment, for my soul was harrowed up to the greatest degree and racked with all my sins. Yea, I did remember all my sins and iniquities, for which I was tormented with the pains of hell; yea, I saw that I had rebelled against my God, and that I had not kept his holy commandments.

"Yea, and I had murdered many of his children, or rather led them away unto destruction; yea, and in fine so great had been my iniquities, that the very thought of coming into the presence of my God did rack my soul with inexpressible horror.

"Oh, thought I, that I could be banished and become extinct both soul and body, that I might not be brought to stand in the presence of my God, to be judged of my deeds. And now, for three days and for three nights was I racked, even with the pains of a damned soul."

Have you ever felt racked with eternal torment? Have you ever looked back on something you've done and felt a desire to make up for the wrong done, to go back and be clean again? Is there truly any hope that we might be able to lift the great weight of guilt and godly sorrow from our shoulders?

"And it came to pass that as I was thus racked with torment, while I was harrowed up by the memory of my many sins, behold, I remembered also to have heard my father prophesy unto the people concerning the coming of one Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the sins of the world.

"Now, as my mind caught hold upon this thought, I cried within my heart: O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death."

In other words, it's time for us to pray more earnestly. We must pray with a humble heart, with pure intent, with such sincerity we can feel it from the tops of our heads to the bottom of our feet. What will such a prayer do?

"Now, as my mind caught hold upon this thought, I cried within my heart: O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death.

"And now, behold, when I thought this, I could remember my pains no more; yea, I was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more. And oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!"

What might that feel like, the moment hatred for oneself is suddenly replaced by such joy! To feel clean, light, and full of love. Have we as mortals who find ourselves apt to sin, become so used to the weight of guilt and sorrow we cannot see there is so much more to life? A better way to live, a lightness of spirit and body that no one can take from us?

The choice is ours, and ours alone. Just as we can choose to make the first step toward sin, we have to be the ones to choose the first step toward happiness. We are surrounded by people who love us, and want to see us free again. Just as Christ was granted an angel for support, love and guidance during the most difficult time of His life, we are given angels as well. Family, friends, and ward members who want to see us whole. We have a bishop, who is especially called of God to be one of our greatest angels here on earth, who wants more than anything to help us turn from sin and embrace the gift of the atonement, who is a support for us when certain sins need more care and attention in getting them out of our lives.

Repentance does not end there, but there it certainly does begin. It is one of the hardest steps to take, the hardest choices to make, but it will never, NEVER be a choice you will regret so long as you stay true to the gospel of Christ.

I would now like to return to our story about the young man who wished to go on a mission. If you remember he's been turned away with some rather harsh words about his attitude regarding his past choices.

"About six months later the same General Authority returned to that city to speak in a lecture series held in the evening. When he finished, many young adults lined up to shake hands with him. As he shook hands, one by one, he looked up and saw the young man that he had previously interviewed standing in the line about four back. The General Authority relates the following:

" 'My mind quickly flashed back to our interview. I recalled his laughing and haughty attitude. I remembered how sarcastic he was. Pretty soon he was right in front of me. I was on the stand bending over, and as I reached down to shake his hand, I noticed a great change had taken place. He had tears in his eyes. He had almost a holy glow about his countenance. He took my hand in his and said, 'I've been there; I've been to Gethsemane and back.' I said, 'I know. It shows in your face.'

"We can be forgiven for our transgressions, but we must understand that just to stop doing something is not repentance. If it had not been for the Savior and the miracle of forgiveness, this young man would have carried his transgressions throughout all eternity."

As I knelt by my bed last night, pondering the words of this talk, I thought back to a transgression I had committed as a child. I was maybe 10, and for years and years I struggled over whether or not I had truly repented for what I'd done as a child. Certainly the thought of committing the sin again brought about horrific feelings, I never wanted to do it again, and I'd prayed about it before. Yet still there sat in my mind a lingering doubt: had I truly repented and been forgiven?

And so I asked my Heavenly Father last night to help me know in a way that no doubt could remain. He did. I felt happy. Just plain happy. There was no more reason to fret about that past sin, for I had been cleansed long ago. Now, I could just be happy.

I wish you bear you my testimony regarding repentance: it is not a punishment for bad deeds done. Neither is it something to be taken lightly. It is a precious gift, freely given by our Lord and Savior to help us live a happier life, to find peace even in our struggles, to give us hope when the world tells us things are hopeless. I can testify that it works, when done with the correct attitude. And I leave these things with you in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Oh No. Mom's Flirting Again

2010-04-22T12:12:00.000-07:00

I was having an awesome day yesterday - just plain oodles of fun all around. It had been a lovely morning with the kids, we went to Costco for a cheap lunch and met up with my sweet friend Debbie, had a wonderful afternoon together, then decided to hit up McDonald's for dinner just so we wouldn't have to create dishes to wash.

My mood was up. And I'm talkin' WAY up. Make a bit of a fool of myself being silly, sort of up. So when the cute little male cashier was in a chipper mood as well we just started having fun bantering back and forth.

After paying too much money for food I didn't need, the family starting getting drinks and napkins and ketchup galore. We found a place to sit, daddy took the littlest to the bathroom, and M got a very serious look on her face.

"Mom, I'm gonna tell on you."

I had no idea what she could possibly be talking about. What did I do? Get her the wrong drink? Why did that constitute a bit of tattling? And precisely who was she going to tell?

"You," she said in a very serious tone, "were flirting with that guy."

WHAT!?!?! I burst out laughing. Then I laughed harder when I realized she was serious.

"I was not flirting," I firmly declared, but she would not believe me. Now you have to understand I'm not exactly known for my flirting skills. You can ask my husband. I'm way too open and up front, and will tell you directly how I feel. So the fact that my oldest thinks I have skills in this area doesn't exactly speak wonders for her future with boys (something I am far too happy about).

Rolling my eyes I went back to the front to wait for our food. The sheer idea of that boy (and let's be honest, he was WAY younger than me) thinking this pudgy, 30 (muffle) year old woman who has given birth to five kids and looks like it might be flirting with him almost sent me into another fit of giggles.

Whilst I waited my darling daughter did indeed tattle to her daddy, who - being the sweet, understanding, patient man he is - promptly began to tease me. And I - being the sweet, understanding, patient woman I am - began to tease our daughter.

By the end of the night I'm pretty certain M regretted saying anything about her mother flirting. In fact, if it were possible I'm also pretty certain she would have gladly dug a hole in the ground to hide until we were finished with the teasing.

When it was time to go we'd come to the conclusion it was time to start looking out for my next husband because my current one was obviously going to die soon. I was overjoyed he was willing to help me in my search. M declared she didn't want a step-father. Obviously this is something she's just going to have to deal with since I'm all ready on the look out for a replacement. It would also seem I'm on the prowl for a younger man with great cashiering skills and a bubbly personality.

So if you see me flirting with anyone, just beware. He could be my next victim. Mwooahahahaha...

A Step in the Right Direction

2010-04-20T20:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I took what felt like a big step in getting some help for my mental/emotional self. While the anti-depressants have worked an awful lot in the major depression problem, I'm still suffering from the serious issue of having a savior complex.

I want to fix everyone. I want to save everyone. And I can't. Which is just frustrating! Especially when they are coming to me with the hope I can "make it all better." In reality they know I can't. To some extent even I know I can't, but it doesn't stop me from trying.

Becoming the wife of an LDS bishop is not an easy role to take on. Some church members believe my husband tells me everything, and either avoid me because of what they think I think, or start talking to me as if I know precisely what's going on. Other people think I tell my husband everything they tell me, so either don't tell me anything or let on more than I wanted to know. Either way I constantly feel caught in the middle, or shoved aside.

I've had another run of everyone telling me their hardships, which I fully encourage as I know what it can mean to have just one empathetic person to talk to. But unlike my husband, who was given a very special blessing of being able to shake things off, I cannot do the same. When someone unloads their frustrations and hardships on my shoulders, they unwittingly leave a bunch of it behind. It sticks to me like molasses, and the more I try to scrape it off, the messier I get.

My husband can tell when I've been around too many negative situations. Just the other day he said, "When your friends are depressed, you get depressed." Very true. Yet, even knowing this is the effect being the shoulder to cry on has on me, I wouldn't change it for the world. I love being that person others feel safe to share their troubles. It gives me a sense of being needed, as though I'm helping in some small way.

But the truth is I need someone to help me deal with all of this. I'm not a counselor. I haven't gone to school to learn how to help others. Over the last two months so much has happened both within our own home and outside of it that I have felt more overwhelmed than ever before! I've felt way in over my head, and have been drowning far too long.

After receiving a priesthood blessing, and a few long chats with my mother, I finally made the call to LDS Social Services yesterday to see about getting in to talk with a counselor. They could have gotten me in tonight, but Tuesdays are always hectic for our family. So I've been put on a waiting list. It might take a few weeks until they're able to fit me in, but that's okay. Since I made the call I've been feeling very at peace, as though I've taken the right step in the right direction.

Funny this is, the sweetest remark given to me was from the guy at the insurance company I spoke with to see if I needed a referral first. As we were ending our conversation he said, "I really hope you'll be okay." Know what? Me too :)

Sunday Inspirations April 18, 2010

2010-04-18T11:35:00.000-07:00

Psalms 28:7
"The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatlly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him."

Ephesians 5:19
"Speaking to yourselves in songs and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord."

Colossians 3:16
"Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in songs and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord."

Doctrine and Covenants 25:12
"For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads."

It's been a rough week. Well, perhaps not so much for me, but when those I love (and there are a WHOLE lot of you out there I love) are suffering, I cannot help but empathize. I find myself taking on their troubles as if they were my own. I've been like this my whole life, so telling me not to do it is a rather fruitless request.

Thursday, Friday and Saturday found me especially affected. I wasn't grouchy or mean or anything, just...down. My normally upbeat attitude had gone into hibernation. For me one of the worst things about watching others suffer is my inability to do anything about it! Being helpless to those who need help is NOT a good feeling.

My son had made a request for our Primary Singing Time today. He wanted to sing, "If You're Happy and You Know It." I began to think about the last three months in Primary, how hard the kids have been working on learning new songs, and I decided it was time to sing for the sheer sake of having fun with music! No games to help us learn the songs better, but a chance to make ourselves laugh and have a good time while singing music that still uplifts the soul.

Know what? It really did! I made up a poster board with the name of the song on front, then a bunch of cards to flip over with different actions to put to our song. Each child who came up had to tell us something that makes them happy, then they could choose a card. The actions ranged from whispering, "awesome," to flapping our arms, to winking at our neighbor and blowing kisses. It was so funny and action packed and FUN!!! By the time we were done I felt rejuvenated, and the kids were happy.

I have no doubt in my mind music is a method of healing given to us from our Heavenly Father. When we delve into music that is good for our hearts and souls, it uplifts, encourages, and gives hope. I feel happier today than I have all week long. Every time I think back to those precious 15 minutes a smile covers my face and happiness reenters my heart!

So today I want to thank my Heavenly Father and Brother for giving me a calling where I am able to enjoy music, to share my love of music with children, and to have these sweet souls learn to love it as well.

Raffle for Photography Sitting!!!

2010-04-12T08:37:00.000-07:00

To all those in the Salt Lake area (or who might find themselves visiting the Salt Lake area), I have for you a chance to win a free photography sitting with Amy Bennion Photography! As part of our Girl's Camp fundraiser she generously donated her time and talent.

Not only will you get the free sitting, but an 11x14 portrait as well! This is a $95 value for a five dollar donation to our fundraiser!!! I've provided you with a link to her site above where you can see what extraordinary talent she possesses. (I've even won a free 8x10 for my own family in a recent contest she held.)

If you enter the raffle, don't win, but decide to book a sitting with her, mention this fundraiser and she'll offer you a free 8x10.

So please, PLEASE enter to win. Not only could you win a fantastic deal, but you'll be helping out our girls as well.

Sunday Inspirations April 11, 2010

2010-04-11T11:27:00.000-07:00

We held a big fundraiser to help the teenage girls in our church make enough money to hold a great girl's camp coming later this summer. I'm still not exactly certain how it all happened, but I ended up being left in charge. Something I'm not a fan of being...in charge. When one is left "in charge" it means the success or failure of the project seems to lay entirely on said person's shoulders. Ugh.

I don't exactly handle stress well, and as we neared the day I kinda sorta started to get overwhelmed. Was my idea of a boutique, yard sale, and bake sale a bad idea? Could we expect to make much of anything let alone the full amount needed to make girl's camp a success? Had I talked everyone out of a better idea simply because the original idea felt like too much??? In other words, had I doomed us to making a whopping five dollars?

I should have known better. Actually, I should have had more faith. We were blessed beyond belief in the items given to us by generous friends and church members. Some of the last minute donations brought in some of our biggest numbers.

I took a few pictures of the adventure if you'd like to take a look. Here's a few ladies (and a thirsty gentleman) manning the bake sale table. We sure had some awesome treats that day. At least, from what I hear, lol. No treats for me :)
Here's our "media" section. We had so many movies and books and even a computer and small television donated. In the background there was even a big bunch of clothes for people to go through.

There were loads of baby items almost all of which went quickly. In the background was our boutique section. We had scrap booking items and jewelry and little girl dress up items. It was too cute :)

One of the last minute donations were a bunch of items donated by a local funeral home. All of these chairs sold! They were in great condition. I wish someone had been able to snag the benches in the far left - they were gorgeous and incredibly comfortable. But the couple who "maybe" wanted them didn't make it back in time :(

Here's our cute president over the girls, her hubby, and one of the young women. They were manning the raffle table. I'll be talking more about our raffle tomorrow, as we still want to give others the chance to win a fabulous portrait sitting.

The fundraiser turned out better than we'd hoped. Though we didn't get all we would have liked, the generosity of those around us blessed us more than we'd hoped. As I mentioned earlier, we should not have worried for one simple reason: the Lord knew our purposes behind holding this fundraiser, and He would help to provide us with what we needed. How wonderful is He!

There comes a point in many difficult things (even if they're difficult for good reasons) where we have to stand back and say, "Lord, I've done all I could, now I leave it in your hands." And then we trust. Putting this fundraiser wasn't easy, and at times I wanted to rebel. But I did everything I could, then stood back and trusted the Lord would help pick up where I left off. He did. Not only did He bless us with everything we needed to sell, but He gave us the people who were willing to buy. For this I am very grateful.

Still, I'm so glad it's over, and maybe now I can chill :)

Sunday Inspirations April 4, 2010

2010-04-04T18:31:00.000-07:00

I hardly know how to begin today's post. Some of you have heard the basics of yesterday's adventure, one I'm still attempting to wrap my head around. Before I go into detail, take a moment to think about the people in your life you love, yet have a habit of taking for granted. Their constant presence in your life, no matter how precious you remember them to be, can end up becoming commonplace. They are always there, so there's no need to think about them not being there. Only when something threatens the commonplace do we remember what makes them so special.

Yesterday morning started out almost as usual. I say almost because it was General Conference Saturday, meaning my hubby was working and I was preparing to listen to the words of religious leaders which were being televised. My oldest had called her grandparents to see if she could spend the day with them, and had planned on riding her brother's scooter over to the house. About halfway there road construction had blocked off the pedestrian access and M found herself needing to return home. I was certainly surprised to see her walk through the front door, and when she told me why I promised to drive her over as soon as I finished something.

My back had been turned when I heard her say, "Mom, I feel weird." I turned to see what was going on. At first it looked as though she had tripped over a little stool, legs folding up beneath her. Only when my eyes flicked up to M's face did I realize something was really wrong. Her face went blank, her head fell back against a box I had in the corner, and she began twitching.

I screamed her name. Over and over again I screamed her name. I took her wrists in mine to minimize her movement so she wouldn't fall off the box and onto the floor. Her eyes stared at me, but didn't see me. The pupils were so small almost all I could see was their beautiful blue, and into my mind came the frantic thought, "Will this be the last time I see these blue eyes?"

I had no reason to believe she wasn't having a seizure. It lasted somewhere between 10-15 seconds - an eternity. I couldn't stop sobbing, repeating her name over and over. Her three siblings had come in behind me, though I was not aware of their presence. Nothing existed for me but those beautiful blue eyes. Just as quickly as it had began, she came out of it. Her eyes returned to normal, her body relaxed, and as consciousness returned she asked, "What happened?"

Only then did I see the blood in her mouth. Something else was in there, though I couldn't tell just what as it was covered in blood. I thought it might be foam, then when she started talking funny I thought she might have bitten through her tongue. It took several seconds before we both realized it was one of her teeth. Somehow she had ripped one of her permanent teeth right out of the gums, which were bleeding profusely.

I can't imagine what it must have been like to "wake up" to the sight of her panicked mother, not knowing what was going on, and having an intense pain in her mouth. We got her situated on the couch (a no-no, I realize now) and through my muddled and frantic mind came the distinct thought, "Call 911." I did. It didn't take long for the paramedics to appear. Our little living room was suddenly crowded with all sorts of portable machines and official looking men. J and A stayed around, asking lots of questions to some very patient men.

I began looking around for B, and caught sight of him on the top bunk in his room. Though I ached to see if he was okay, I was needed in the living room to answer lots of questions about what had happened. The men took M's blood pressure and pulse rate, both a little high but expected considering what she'd just went through. They had her finish pulling out the tooth so she wouldn't swallow it, then had me wrap it in a damp paper towel. She wasn't thrilled when they took her blood sugar, and I can't blame her for hating the experience when I saw the mighty bruise left behind.

At last they finished, confident she was okay for the time being. One guy kept asking me what I wanted to do, and I couldn't help thinking, "I'm the one having the crazy experience here and you want me to think clearly?!?!?!?!" I asked for their opinion, and together we decided she wasn't bad enough to go to the hospital, that instead I'd call her doctor and see what he said. The men collected their belongings, said goodbye to the children, and left.

My first thought was to call our dentist. The sweet man doesn't work on Saturday but was happy to meet us at the office to see if there was any chance we could save the tooth. It would take him about 45 minutes to get there, so in the meantime I called the doctor.

As the medical assistant asked questions we came to realize M hadn't had a seizure at all. Sometimes when a child faints he/she will twitch, and will even keep the eyes open. This is precisely what happened. Had it been a seizure she would have been unconscious or "out of it" for a good half hour at least. Instead she was instantly alert, as might happen with a fainting spell. Our best guess was she'd been dehydrated, and then had overexerted herself with the hurried ride home on the scooter. It didn't help that she'd recently had a bit of a cold.

Only when we'd figured all this out did I finally call my husband to tell him what had happened. I hated doing so, as I knew he'd be torn between staying at work and coming home, but I knew he needed to stay at work as it was an important and very busy time. After assuring him we were getting things taken care of, and that my crying was not an indication of me going into hysterics, we said goodbye.

My incredible sister-in-law came over to watch the other kids while I took M off to the dentist, who had told me to put the tooth in lukewarm water with a tiny pinch of salt. It was a little weird sitting with my daughter, looking at her permanent tooth (which has a wickedly long root to it!), wondering if it would go back in. My daughter has such a beautiful smile. I couldn't imagine it being marred by such a bizarre experience.

Not until the shots were being administered to numb up her mouth did I realize it had been so many years since she'd had a cavity M didn't remember what the experience was like. I think it sort of alarmed her just as much as the thought of having the tooth put back in. Dr. B was great. He managed to glue the tooth back into place by 'cementing' it between the two surrounding teeth. We'll find out tomorrow if our wayward tooth decided to bond back into place, or if we'll have to go another route.

Needless to say this experience shook us all up. On the way home we stopped by 7-11 to get M a big ol' Gatorade to help with the dehydration, and she began opening up about what happened right before she'd fainted. It happened so fast, with such little warning. She began to feel lightheaded, and felt a funny tingling appeared around her chest. Then everything went blank. The next thing she knew I was crying out her name.

We managed to survive the rest of the day. She bounced back fairly quickly while taking it easy, calling a few of her friends to tell them about her adventure. I tried to lose myself in listening to the second session of Conference while trying to get a few things done around the house like dishes and more laundry, all the while periodically bursting into tears. Every chance I got my daughter was taken into my arms and told how much she was loved. The moment her dad came home she was in his arms as well.

As I put the other three to bed that night, each sibling had to tell M goodnight, and that they loved her. That's when I found out why B was on top of the bunk bed during all the commotion. He was so scared something might happen to her he went immediately into his room to pray for his big sister. Words cannot express what this action not only meant to me, but to M as well.

That night she was scared to go to sleep, afraid she might not wake up. Because daddy had to go to work early again I took her into bed with me, where we read until she felt tired enough to just drop off.

Of course, she woke up just fine this morning :)

Over the last two days I couldn't stop thinking about my daughter, who has lived in our home for more than a decade. Her presence is a blessing in our lives, though sometimes we as her parents sometimes become more focused on the wrong things. It took the tiny possibility of losing her yesterday to recognize just how empty this house would be without her here. Even her siblings couldn't stop talking about all the good stuff she does for them and with them. Though I try to tell my children several times a day just how much I love them, it truly took an experience like this to remind me of why.

Sunday Inspirations March 28, 2010

2010-03-28T14:00:00.000-07:00

This morning during my fast thoughts came racing to my mind regarding the suffering we go through in this life, the hard times we frequently find ourselves enduring. Images and connections seemed to come at lightening speed as I thought about Christ and the Atonement. I snatched up a pen an piece of scratch paper and began to write as fast as my imperfect hands would allow. I'd like to share these thoughts with you.

Let me paint you a picture. Christ has just arrived at the Garden of Gethsemane with His closet friends, the apostles. Inviting three to accompany Him, Jesus finds a spot a ways off wherein He resides Himself to "partake of the bitter cup." Leaving Peter, James and John - for this is something so sacred no mortal can behold the unfolding events - Christ enters the sacred place in a garden He dearly loves.

An unexpected heaviness weighs on Him, something He's never felt before. Even before He begins to pray a change in the very atmosphere affects Him. It is no stretch of the imagination to think of Him being a bit alarmed. In His prayer we witness a small crack in His composure. "Father," He may have prayed, "I'm not sure what's going on here. For the first time I'm feeling nervous, anxious, and heavy. I'm not certain if I can do this. If it's at all possible, Father please, please let this cup pass." Yet His plea does not end there. "Nevertheless, Thy will be done."

Let us think for a moment what it must have been like for our Father to hear this most extraordinary Son ask for the harshness to be taken away, and yet be willing to endure if that's what He felt was best. Don't you think His arms reached out in an instinctive motion to take his Son in a big hug and say, "Of course you don't have to endure this. No more, my perfect Son, no more." He did not, of course, because there were lessons to be learned, trials to be experienced, and mercy to be met - not for Christ. Not for the perfect one, but rather for the rest of us. Because both knew there would be times when we would feel just as dark, as scared, and hopeless.

At last the excruciating agony ended, but only for a time. Once more Christ knelt to experience the extreme pain of sins compounded upon even more sins. Perhaps this second time was even more difficult than the first. I cannot help but think the most extraordinary part of all is He came back a third time. The agony was so great He bled from every pore. Heavenly Father sent down an angel to support Him during this dark time. Things were so bad Christ prayed "more earnestly." Can you imagine that, the need for our Savior to pray more earnestly? Perhaps at that moment He finally knew what it felt like, that need to pray harder and longer when we are in the depths of darkness.

I believe the most frightening moment for Jesus was when the Father withdrew His Spirit. For the first time in His entire life Christ knew what it meant to be utterly cut off from the Father. There was no influence. No light. No angels. No support whatsoever. And because the Spirit was not there, Satan's influence was free to enter; to buffet Him from all sides, even to help Christ know more than any of us can realize what it means to be in complete darkness.

What do you think it felt like when the Spirit at last returned, for the light to come back? Do you think Christ appreciated it more than He had ever done before. Don't you think this connection to the Father became more precious than ever before?

We are sometimes given experiences to help us grow and learn in ways we could not do otherwise. Some of these things we even agreed to endure in the pre-existence, knowing they would help us in becoming the individual Heavenly Father knows we need to be to help further His work along.

One of my greatest trials in the last few years has been depression. It's an ugly thing, leaving one with no hope, no light, no way of feeling the Spirit. I can look at others around me and see them being influenced, and simply feel dead inside. At times I have wondered what was so wrong with me. I have heard others wonder why Heavenly Father hates them so much, though I have never thought that myself. Prayers appear to go unheeded. All that seems left to us is a sensation of falling deeper and deeper into intense and seemingly everlasting sadness.

Here is what I've learned. Sometimes when our prayers seem to go unanswered, it's because we're not praying the right prayers. What we want to have happen simply cannot be done, because there is a greater purpose to our suffering. We cannot see the bigger picture and struggle to understand why the life of one little soul here on earth could be so important in the grand scheme of things.

What we need to do is change our prayers. We cannot stop with telling our Father what we feel we need, but always add, "Thy will be done." And of course ask for support, help and love. That's when He sends us angels. They come in the form of family, friends, and others who give what little they can during our time of need. Christ was sent one angel. Just one. To the rest of us are given angels in abundance to support us during our difficult times. They are not perfect angels, and they cannot take the pain and heartache away from us, but they can be the shoulder we need to cry on, or the arm we need to lean on when things are too heavy to bear.

I want to pause for a moment to share one thought regarding something we will NEVER be asked to endure. The only way we could go through this is if we purposely turned away from the light of Christ, denying Him and the Father. We will never be asked to know what it means to have the Spirit and influence of God taken from us. There will never be an absence of light, of hope, so long as we choose to do precisely what Christ chose - to keep going on.

During your darkest time when friends and family offer words of hope, of love, and of testimony, imagine the arms of the Father being opened up to you, to embrace you as He cannot. He will not always take the hardships away, for that is not a part of His plan...of OUR plan. It is not the way to eternal happiness.

Many of us out there stand as a living testament to what a small amount of hope and faith can do for someone in need. I myself have endured pain and sadness so intense I felt as though I might drown in the darkness of it all. I would never want to repeat these experiences, yet I am grateful for each one, as they have taught me much in my short life. Each time the darkness is lifted, the light appears so much sweeter than before.

If you are suffering at this time, I ask you to hold on. Hold tight to your testimony, no matter how strong or weak it may be. Pray for strength, for angels, and for the support you need until the time He lifts the suffering from you. I cannot say when that time will come, but I can promise one day there will be an end. And oh how sweet will be the light when it is returned to you.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

2010-03-25T11:06:00.000-07:00

Some of you may remember my previous posts about the horrible experience I had with the salesmen of Dead Sea Cosmetics (I still shudder at the thought). Well, in case you were wondering if I've learned my lesson, let's hope today's post will be an encouraging one :)

Two days ago someone gave a few hearty knocks to the front door. I normally peek out the window to see who's interrupting my glorious solitude - well, as alone as one can get with a little one around the house - when said little one changed my plan by getting to the door first. My chest literally tightened when I saw two young men with clipboards in hands.

"We're not selling anything today..." were the first words out of the leader's mouth. You just know you're doomed when they say that. Of COURSE they're trying to sell something, otherwise they wouldn't have knocked on the door in the first place!

He began giving his spiel about needing to get in a certain amount of presentations done in a month and he realizes we all ready have a vacuum but could he just take a look...

The next thing I know he's pushed past me and is checking out my entire living room. So there I am with a stranger who went into my house without my permission with my little girl clutching my leg, when the other guy came in as well!

The first thing to go through my mind was my experience with the Dead Sea guys, and my ornery side went right up.

"You need to leave my house right now," I said, pointing to the door.

"But," he started.

"Nope. My husband is not home and I did not invite you in. You need to leave now."

The guy huffed and walked out. Had he not, my next move would have been to call the police.

Oh yeah, I've learned my lesson! Hopefully those guys have learned theirs (probably not, after all, they're salesmen).

BOYS! (And Yes, I'm Talking About Mine)

2010-03-23T11:53:00.001-07:00

Those who have known me for many a year may be a tad surprised to hear we now own an xBox, as I've always sworn I never wanted one in my house and that if my kids wanted one they'd have to earn it themselves. Several months ago my hubbs and I were concerned at the enthusiastic playing our boys did on our aged computer, and were thinking along the lines of picking something up to give it a break.

This was such a huge concession on my part, as I knew full well how easily hours could be wasted playing something silly and unproductive (hello - I am a Facebook junky after all). The thought of my kids sacrificing time outside to sit in front of the tv didn't seem like a good trade. However, at the time I put out the idea in my family newsletter winter was setting in, the kids were in the house more often than ever, and they were off-track. This translates into a whole lot of time spent on my computer!

My big brother and his sweet wife called me with some wonderful news - they had an old xBox with some games they were completely willing to give us. That's right! The entire system and games were a gift. How awesome are they! Though it took a bit of practicing how to be nice and share, and after a bunch of time-outs happened combined with a lovely set of rules, the kids were doing really quite well at balancing time outside (on nice days) with taking turns on their new beloved toy.

Until yesterday.

A friend gave the boys two of his old games: Lego Star Wars 1&2. J is ecstatic, but B got tired of them awfully fast. #2 had to be fixed so we only got it back yesterday, and J's whining side came out full force! He didn't WANT to eat dinner. He finished some homework at school all ready! What do you mean it's bedtime?!?!?! By the time he actually said goodnight to everyone we were ready to ban him from the xBox for the rest of the week.

A little before nine he came in crying. "What's wrong?" I ask (first mistake). "I just know B's going to wake up before I do and he'll get on the xBox and play what I don't want to play!" I had to try really hard to keep my eyes from rolling around in my head. What could I say? Certainly not "You've been whining all night long so I'm going to reward your behavior by telling you B can't play his own game in the morning before school?" Uh...no. But I was too tired to think clearly, and that's when I made my second mistake.

"Whoever gets up first gets to pick what game you play."

Dumb, Laurie. Major dumb! Know why? At four o'clock in the morning I hear someone cry out and think one of the kids' is having a bad dream. I jump out of bed and go into the hallway where the flickering lights of the television are coming from the living room.

"No way," I think. "Yes way," my inner taunter shouts back. Sure enough, both my boys are on the xBox. AT FOUR IN THE MORNING!!! I made them get right off, saying their dad hasn't even gone to work yet, and told them to go back to sleep. When I get up a couple of hours later they're back on the xBox. I wasn't sure if they'd even gone back to sleep until I talked to hubby later on this morning. Sure enough, when he left for work, they asked if they could get back on and play.

If the boys are even a little ornery with me tonight, you'd better believe they'll be getting ornery right back!

Another Post of Pictures

2010-03-19T10:59:00.000-07:00

So I've apparently been saving up a bunch of pictures to load on here... either that or I may have been lax in my attentions to the blog. I'm leaning toward the latter.

In an attempt to make up for my serious lapse in blogging fun, I've decided to inundate you with pictures. The first three are of my sweet baby girl. She wanted me to take her picture next to "Cindallella", as A calls it. While she posed she tried to give me her: Angry Face

Her sad face:

And her Happy Face. Do you see the difference? 'Cause I'm a bit puzzled, lol.

As part of our Valentine's date my hubby and I went to the Spaghetti Factory. In the parking lot I saw something I HAD to take a pic of for my boys. Methinks there are others that would enjoy it too :)

Oh yeah, that's a Hummer with a Batman decal!

About two weeks ago my hubby was sent on a work conference leaving me and the kiddies at home. I thought to myself, "No problem. We'll find some fun things to do while Dad's gone!" Uh, no. Instead EVERY ONE OF THE KIDS got terribly sick!!! During that week and for the first half of this week I found myself wiping hoards of noses, going through boxes of tissues and bottles of medicines in an attempt to keep the sick at bay. All four of the kids ended up at the doctor (on different days, of course) where they were all put on anti-biotics :( I am happy to report a much happier and healthier household, though M is still in recovery. There was a lot of school missed, but I did stop to take a picture of a precious moment.

Miss A and Mr. J don't always get along the greatest. It has everything to do with A's ornery nature - come on, those who really know her KNOW she can be an ornery cuss, especially when it comes to J. However, there was an evening when she was stretched out on the couch with a fever, and J came to sit next to her and act as body guard. She actually didn't shoo him away.

My nephew had a big birthday last weekend with some of his cousins. It was SO much fun. They started out by playing a game my parents introduced to us called "Don't Eat Pete."

There's a little "board" filled with M&M's characters. On this you put one small candy (my bro used marshmallows) on each box.

One person goes away from the board while another picks which character will be Pete. Then the first guy comes back and begins taking one candy at a time in the hopes of clearing the board without picking Pete. If he/she picks Pete, the rest of the group yells out "Don't Eat Pete!" It's hilarious when you get my brother involved.

The birthday boy naturally got to go first.

After everyone had a few turns Pirate Dad came out to go on a treasure hunt with the kids.

Here's the finished map. (And yes, I realize the picture is upside down.)

He had them running upstairs and down, doing jumping jacks, running around the couch.

After they found the treasure it was time for birthday cupcakes.

And then opening presents :)

It is so fun to watch him open gifts - he gets SO excited.

Here are the kids "helping" to put the race track together.

Those who couldn't wait to have some fun popped over to launch the Buzz Rocket.

Even the littlest managed to catch some air!

Later in the week our little family celebrated our D's birthday. It's always bittersweet, and I've thought more than once about stopping, but for now the kids seem to really enjoy it.

Near the headstone is this fantastic tree! Our kids having been climbing this since M was a little one.

Later that night we had some cake and let the kids each blow out a candle.

And that catches us up for the past month! Hope you enjoyed today's post :)

Sunday Inspirations March 14, 2010

2010-03-15T08:00:00.001-07:00

Okay, okay, so yes this is technically being written on Monday the 15th, but yesterday found me utterly sick and I could barely find the energy to sit on the couch, let alone post on the blog.

Yesterday our family had the opporunity to attend a special meeting held only twice a year. Think of it as a gathering of local congregations of the same church to listen to messages of importance from their local leaders and selected church members. To those of us in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (a.k.a, the Mormons), we refer to this as Stake Conference.

The meeting lasts two hours. It can be difficult to get anything out of the meeting when trying to keep little children content for the entire time. This was the case for me yesterday. However, at the point our last speaker came to the stand my children all happened to quiet down for the moment, for which I am grateful. The leader over our local congregations, known as the Stake President, spoke first on conversion. This is what I'd like to touch on today.

Even those who have been members of any particular church will find a time when their testimonies, or witnesses of their faith, will be tested and tried. It is in these moments we discover what it is we are converted to.

Our stake president spoke of those who are "converted" in our own church. "Some people are converted to the missionaries, to the spirit they bring with them. Others are converted to a bishop, or a teacher, or a friend who makes them feel super loved and cared for." But what happens when the missionary, or the bishop, or the friend moves, or is released from the position? Too often we become lost and often stop coming. They are too unsure of the next step to take.

It is not enough in our churches to see someone come into the fold. We need to work hard to make certain what they are converted to is the gospel of Christ, not the people who worship Him. We need to help them, and ourselves, to build testimonies of Him and His gospel that are so strong they can withstand the buffetings of Satan, even when those upon whom we leaned on are no longer there.

I have had friends come and go in my congregation. There have been times I've felt so alone and out of place, have been hurt by the words and actions of others, and could easily have stopped coming to church. Over the years I've seen individuals stop attending church because they have been offended, or their best friend has moved, or they were released from a position before they thought they were ready. Being a bishop's wife is harder than I thought it would be often leaving me on the outskirts, or having a lot of expectations placed on my shoulders.

The difference between those who leave their churches and those who don't all comes down to testimonies - witnesses of the Holy Spirit that testify of the truthfulness of the things we are taught about Christ and His church.

I don't know if much in this post has made sense. Things clicked with me as I listened to our Stake President speak. I don't go to church because of the bishop, or the leaders I work with, or the friends I have there. I go to church because a long time ago the Holy Spirit witnessed to me the truthfulness of Christ's gospel. And even though there are days I don't get a lot out of going to these various meetings because of health or kids or whatever, and sometimes the imperfect people who make up this world make my heart hurt with their words and actions, I know I am not going to church for them. I know even when it's hardest to go my Savior sees me trying to do as He would have me do because I love Him so much.

Take some time to ask yourself over the next week, "To whom am I converted?"

Sunday Inspirations March 7, 2010

2010-03-07T06:04:00.000-08:00

"A number of years ago, a one-inch article in my local newspaper caught my attention, and I have remembered it ever since: 'Four people were killed and seven workers were rescued after clinging for more than an hour to the underside of a 125-foot-high [38-m] bridge in St. Catharines, Ontario, [Canada,] after the scaffolding they were working on collapsed' ("News Capsules," Deseret News, June 9, 1993, A2).

"I was, and I continue to be, fascinated by this brief story. Shortly after reading this account, I called a family friend who lived in St. Catharines. She explained that the workers had been painting the Garden City Skyway bridge for about a year and were two weeks short of completing the project when the accident happened. After the accident, officials were asked why these men did not have any safety equipment. The answer was simple: they had the equipment; they just chose not to wear it" (Ann M. Dibb, "Hold On," Ensign, Nov 2009, 79-81).

The workers who survived clung to a one-inch bit of steel while standing on about eight inches for a little over an hour before rescue workers could get them down. Though we may not find ourselves in a similar life-and-death situation, many of the temptations and situations we face today are every bit as much a threat to our eternal lives. Ofttimes we may ourselves feel as though we've found ourselves in a place where our spiritual half feels as though it is clinging for dear life to an unforgiving bit of steel.

Sister Dibb of the General Young Women's presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints tells us, "It is important to note, however, that in the scriptures there are very few stories of individuals who lived in blissful happiness and experience no opposition. We learn and grow by overcoming challenges with faith, persistence, and personal righteousness."

She relates a quote given by President Thomas S. Monson of the LDS Church: "Remember that you are entitled to our [Heavenly] Father's blessings in this work. He did not call you to your privileged post to walk alone, without guidance, trusting to luck. On the contrary, He knows your skill, He realizes your devotion, and He will convert your supposed inadequacies to recognized strengths. He has promised: 'I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about to bear you up'" ("Sugar Beets and the Worth of a Soul," Ensign, July 2009, 5-6).

The workers on the bridge were given their very own sets of safety equipment. Don't you think our Heavenly Father would do the same for us? Sister Dibb states: "He has given us personal prayer, the scriptures, living prophets and the Holy Ghost to guide us. At times, using this equipment may seem cumbersome, awkward, and horribly unfashionable. Its proper use requires our diligence, obedience, and persistence."

Living a more righteous life certainly does feel cumbersome at times. How much easier would it be to get through life without the sword of truth, the shield of faith, the helmet of hope and breastplate of righteousness. These are certainly not "fashionable." Think for a moment what might happen if we choose to take them off. We find ourselves unprotected against the stones of peer pressure, the arrows of sin, and the constant onslaught of temptations, sorrow and hurt.

Perhaps some of us have already taken off our safety equipment. Perhaps they now lie in a corner somewhere, gathering dust rather than being put to good use. This does not have to be the end of our choices. We can choose this day to repent, to gather up our prayers, our words of the prophets, our scriptures, and put back on our armour of God. We can choose to use the safety equipment our loving Heavenly Father gave us to help us make it back to Him.

What will you choose?