I feel as though I've been so serious lately (which I totally blame on seasonal depression which hits me this time every year), I wanted to do something fun and uplifting. My friend Emily put me down as one of her "assignees" and so I'm going to sit here and have a bit of fun filling out my blog award :)
This award comes with some to-do's :
1. Say one nice thing about the man in your life.
Like Ems herself said, how can I possibly say just one thing? Is it truly possible to explain in one lifetime the love, the respect, and the gratitude I have for such a remarkable man? He's my greatest supporter, my biggest fan, my protector, my guardian angel, the father of my children, a worthy priesthood holder, the most extraordinary example anyone could hope to have. He is everything I could have ever hoped for in an eternal mate.
2. List at least 6 ways you measure success in your life.
This one's hard, especially for someone who is constantly listing every way she comes up short. I suppose one would include the Spirit that resides in our home. My children consider this a safe place to be. Though we may not be wealthy in the riches of this world, no one could deny the love that is felt the moment they walk through the door.
Second would be the friendship between my children. Though they may not realize it, this is unique. I hope it always stays that way.
Third, the service our family strives to provide, not only for those we love, but for those we don't know that well. It makes my heart sing when even the kids suggest things we can do to help those around us.
Fourth, that my children believe so wholeheartedly in their Heavenly Father, in their brother Jesus Christ, and understand the power and blessings that come from prayer and the priesthood. Even at such a young age, they are able to know the faith of their parents, even when we go through the hard times.
Fifth, close relationships with extended family members. I never really had that growing up. It was quite a shock to marry into a family where cousins and aunts and uncles for generations back were not only constantly getting together, but always worried and praying for one another. I'm so grateful my children can grow up in such an environment, on both sides of our families.
Sixth, and on an extremely personal note, that I was able to marry in the temple, knowing I'd stayed strong and pure, and could kneel across from a man who was the same. I can only hope we can impart the importance of this to our own children, so that they may know the true and everlasting happiness it can bring.
3. Assign 5 other bloggers this award.
This makes me laugh. Basically I'm tagging five other people, which I'll do, but anyone who feels as though this would be a good thing to do for their own blog I'd encourage to do so. Oh, and I'm totally going to cheat and invite way more than five.
1. This first one's a two-fer, since both sil's on my side of the fam are pregnant. So Emily and Melanie, get to it! I will also include Ellen, even though she's not pregnant. But I adore her and want her to do it!
2. All my nieces with a blog. Yep, that means Jen, Talena, and Josie (that I know of), all three of you preggers get to do it too. (Seriously, what's in the water????)
3. Old friends. Not that they're old, or anything. Just that we've known one another longer than five or so years. So let's see. I believe that includes Cynthia, Marti, Mayor Mike, Artist Mike, Ingrid, Brent AND LaDawn (hey, ya have your own blogs, so it can be done) and anyone else I accidentally skipped over. Sorry. But I am getting on in years...
4. Newer friends. This includes Errin, Natalie (even if you're no longer blogging), Jared (I had to do it, since your wife didn't), Alysha, Val, my friends from the blogger group, etc.
5. Everyone else I may have inadvertently left out. Have fun everyone!!!
Friday, January 16, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Feeling Helpless in Trials
I'm struggling this morning, as my status on Facebook openly states. It's hard when you're enduring trials, whether they be physical, emotional, or spiritual. Yet rarely seen, but just as harsh, are the hearts breaking because there's nothing they can do to help those enduring the pain.
My younger son, B, has had headaches for close to four months now. At times these aches are fairly mild, to the point he rarely says a word, even though they never actually go away. Other times, such as these last two weeks, the pain is bad. He can barely sleep at night. His tummy feels upset most of the day long. He keeps to activities that don't require a lot of action, like playing on the computer or having Mom read to him.
Yet through it all he rarely complains. He seems to contain a giant of a man, one who is courageous and perservering and strong, placed into a little boy's body. He's everything tender and loving, always giving hugs and kisses, cuddling, and telling me how much he loves me.
So when he looks up at me with those big, blue eyes, and says, "Mom, my head really hurts," my heart absolutely breaks. I know for him to utter those words the pain has to be pretty bad, and I feel utterly unable to help. Normal pain meds don't take away the pain. I've tried the same methods we used on his big sister when she started getting headaches, but it doesn't do a thing.
I know it's only through great pain that we learn the greatest lessons. But it's never easy to watch it happen in someone so innocent. This little man, this beautiful example of what it means to submit to the Father's will, is my hero.
My younger son, B, has had headaches for close to four months now. At times these aches are fairly mild, to the point he rarely says a word, even though they never actually go away. Other times, such as these last two weeks, the pain is bad. He can barely sleep at night. His tummy feels upset most of the day long. He keeps to activities that don't require a lot of action, like playing on the computer or having Mom read to him.
Yet through it all he rarely complains. He seems to contain a giant of a man, one who is courageous and perservering and strong, placed into a little boy's body. He's everything tender and loving, always giving hugs and kisses, cuddling, and telling me how much he loves me.
So when he looks up at me with those big, blue eyes, and says, "Mom, my head really hurts," my heart absolutely breaks. I know for him to utter those words the pain has to be pretty bad, and I feel utterly unable to help. Normal pain meds don't take away the pain. I've tried the same methods we used on his big sister when she started getting headaches, but it doesn't do a thing.
I know it's only through great pain that we learn the greatest lessons. But it's never easy to watch it happen in someone so innocent. This little man, this beautiful example of what it means to submit to the Father's will, is my hero.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Sunday Inspirations January 11, 2009
My thoughts this morning are on the Doctrine and Covenants, and I thought to take some time out to explain a bit about what the Doctrine and Covenants are. For those who have grown up with them, you might discover (as I did) something new, or simply have your testimony reinforced. For those who don't know much, if anything, about the Doctrine and Covenants, I hope this helps to make things a little clearer.
Joseph Smith Jr., prophet of the newly organized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (nicknamed the Mormon Church), received many revelations over the course of his ministry. These revelations were eventually collected and bound into what we members refer to as the Doctrine and Covenants, or the D&C.
One thing that makes the D&C different from all other works in the Mormon standard works (or cannon), is it was never translated from an ancient language. The Old Testament, the New Testament, and even the Book of Mormon were all translated. When one word didn't seem to fit correctly, there had to be a "best guess estimate" to find a replacement word.
This was not the case with the Doctrine and Covenants. Every word in the book was given directly from the Lord to His prophet.
At this point I would love to have a picture to help illustrate the next point, but I'm afraid you'll all have to turn on your imaginations. See in your mind a stone building, four corners, and arched doorway, and on top of the raised roof a rounded cap. Within this building are three stones, ones vital to the stability, strength, and steadiness of the building.
First is the Cornerstone. This stone must be fixed, precise in it's placement, and strong. Without it the rest of the building will come tumbling down. For those of us in the Mormon Church, as well as every other Christian faith, the cornerstone is Jesus Christ. His life, His teachings, His example (which we read and study about in the Holy Bible) is the cornerstone of our lives. It is the foundation of our lives. Without it the rest of our lives will crumble.
Next is the Keystone. It is the top of the arch. Without it the doorway leading to rich joy, love, and happiness cannot stand. It too will collapse. For those of us in the Mormon Church, the Book of Mormon serves as the keystone. It does not replace the Holy Bible, but reinforces it, magnifies it, and gives us a firmer testimony of our purpose here on earth as well as how to help live the commandments of God. It also stands as a reminder that no matter where we may reside on this big earth, we are always under the watchful and loving eye of our Father in Heaven and our Savior.
Last is the Capstone. It is the finishing touch, the final necessary stone. Without it our building is incomplete. Without it the natural elements could cause our building to erode with time. For those of us in the Mormon Church, the Doctrine and Covenants are the capstone to our religion. It was written specifically to and for those in our dispensation, to the members of the Lord's restored Church. It serves as a template for our lives in these latter days. Within the first section (or chapter) we are given the purpose of the D&C.
If you would like to read through the verses, go to D&C 1:20-28, but the specific purposes are:
So our faith might be increased. The Lord has told us we will be given two or three witnesses, and the D&C stands as yet another witness of Jesus Christ as our Savior.
It establishes the Lord's covenants in our times, covenants that were set up thousands of years before He was born, covenants He personally instituted.
To encourage His Church to proclaim His gospel.
To bring people, both members and nonmembers alike, to an understand of their sins.
To bring these same people the opportunity to partake of the Atonement, to repent, and to be forgiven of those sins.
To show us how we might humble ourselves so that we might be more readily taught in His ways.
To be strengthened!
Most of all, and it is this last thought I'll leave you with this day, the Doctrine and Covenants was given to help us prepare for the coming of the Savior.
The Lord's hand was truly in the making of all three of these works, of this I truly witness. I love all three. They have blessed my life more than I could possibly have guessed. When read with a humble heart and a contrite spirit, with a true and abiding desire to know for certain of the truth of their words, you can know the same blessings.
Joseph Smith Jr., prophet of the newly organized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (nicknamed the Mormon Church), received many revelations over the course of his ministry. These revelations were eventually collected and bound into what we members refer to as the Doctrine and Covenants, or the D&C.
One thing that makes the D&C different from all other works in the Mormon standard works (or cannon), is it was never translated from an ancient language. The Old Testament, the New Testament, and even the Book of Mormon were all translated. When one word didn't seem to fit correctly, there had to be a "best guess estimate" to find a replacement word.
This was not the case with the Doctrine and Covenants. Every word in the book was given directly from the Lord to His prophet.
At this point I would love to have a picture to help illustrate the next point, but I'm afraid you'll all have to turn on your imaginations. See in your mind a stone building, four corners, and arched doorway, and on top of the raised roof a rounded cap. Within this building are three stones, ones vital to the stability, strength, and steadiness of the building.
First is the Cornerstone. This stone must be fixed, precise in it's placement, and strong. Without it the rest of the building will come tumbling down. For those of us in the Mormon Church, as well as every other Christian faith, the cornerstone is Jesus Christ. His life, His teachings, His example (which we read and study about in the Holy Bible) is the cornerstone of our lives. It is the foundation of our lives. Without it the rest of our lives will crumble.
Next is the Keystone. It is the top of the arch. Without it the doorway leading to rich joy, love, and happiness cannot stand. It too will collapse. For those of us in the Mormon Church, the Book of Mormon serves as the keystone. It does not replace the Holy Bible, but reinforces it, magnifies it, and gives us a firmer testimony of our purpose here on earth as well as how to help live the commandments of God. It also stands as a reminder that no matter where we may reside on this big earth, we are always under the watchful and loving eye of our Father in Heaven and our Savior.
Last is the Capstone. It is the finishing touch, the final necessary stone. Without it our building is incomplete. Without it the natural elements could cause our building to erode with time. For those of us in the Mormon Church, the Doctrine and Covenants are the capstone to our religion. It was written specifically to and for those in our dispensation, to the members of the Lord's restored Church. It serves as a template for our lives in these latter days. Within the first section (or chapter) we are given the purpose of the D&C.
If you would like to read through the verses, go to D&C 1:20-28, but the specific purposes are:
So our faith might be increased. The Lord has told us we will be given two or three witnesses, and the D&C stands as yet another witness of Jesus Christ as our Savior.
It establishes the Lord's covenants in our times, covenants that were set up thousands of years before He was born, covenants He personally instituted.
To encourage His Church to proclaim His gospel.
To bring people, both members and nonmembers alike, to an understand of their sins.
To bring these same people the opportunity to partake of the Atonement, to repent, and to be forgiven of those sins.
To show us how we might humble ourselves so that we might be more readily taught in His ways.
To be strengthened!
Most of all, and it is this last thought I'll leave you with this day, the Doctrine and Covenants was given to help us prepare for the coming of the Savior.
The Lord's hand was truly in the making of all three of these works, of this I truly witness. I love all three. They have blessed my life more than I could possibly have guessed. When read with a humble heart and a contrite spirit, with a true and abiding desire to know for certain of the truth of their words, you can know the same blessings.
Friday, January 9, 2009
When Mom Gets Mean
My sweet husband took the kids over to his dad's house today for a little visit, leaving me to my own devices for about an hour and a half. I had a good time doing a few loads of laundry and catching up on Facebook - anything can feel like a good time to a mother who needs an hour to herself (and I'm not talking about 11:00 at night when everyone's asleep).
About 4:30 they all came tumbling back into the house and immediately went into the boys' room to play until I got dinner ready. At one point, I watched J run through the kitchen, frantically open the back door, and laugh as he headed outside. I chuckled to myself when I realized he forgot to unlock the doorknob, and readily jumped up when I heard the expected knock.
To my surprise both my boys came walking in. My mind quickly ran over his lack of coat, socks and shoes, all the while recognizing precisely how he managed to get outside.
He'd jumped out his bedroom window.
I - was - furious! He was immediately placed in the corner while the other two were ordered to start cleaning up the bedroom. None of them would get dinner until the job was complete. After an appropriate amount of time I called B into the kitchen to tell me precisely why he thought going out the window was a good idea.
"The glitter fell out and J and I wanted to race to get it and M told me it would be faster if I went out the window so I did."
Makes perfect sense, right? It apparently made sense to him. We had a serious talk about what could have happened: limbs could have been broken, he didn't even have shoes on, he could have fallen on his head, and the screen is now busted. We then went into the bedroom to have the same talk with the other two (M especially, as the oldest), and so he could help finish cleaning the bedroom.
I am emotionally exhausted from it all. I don't like getting mean with the kids. I hate feeling so angry about such dumb decisions. I get scared wondering what they'll think of when they're teenagers! But they all still know I love them. And I'm pretty sure they all still love me. We read together so I could regain composure and assurance that I am, in fact, a good mommy.
It took about twenty minutes for them to come in for dinner, but I think there was a big lesson learned. Don't let Mom find out you jumped out the window!
About 4:30 they all came tumbling back into the house and immediately went into the boys' room to play until I got dinner ready. At one point, I watched J run through the kitchen, frantically open the back door, and laugh as he headed outside. I chuckled to myself when I realized he forgot to unlock the doorknob, and readily jumped up when I heard the expected knock.
To my surprise both my boys came walking in. My mind quickly ran over his lack of coat, socks and shoes, all the while recognizing precisely how he managed to get outside.
He'd jumped out his bedroom window.
I - was - furious! He was immediately placed in the corner while the other two were ordered to start cleaning up the bedroom. None of them would get dinner until the job was complete. After an appropriate amount of time I called B into the kitchen to tell me precisely why he thought going out the window was a good idea.
"The glitter fell out and J and I wanted to race to get it and M told me it would be faster if I went out the window so I did."
Makes perfect sense, right? It apparently made sense to him. We had a serious talk about what could have happened: limbs could have been broken, he didn't even have shoes on, he could have fallen on his head, and the screen is now busted. We then went into the bedroom to have the same talk with the other two (M especially, as the oldest), and so he could help finish cleaning the bedroom.
I am emotionally exhausted from it all. I don't like getting mean with the kids. I hate feeling so angry about such dumb decisions. I get scared wondering what they'll think of when they're teenagers! But they all still know I love them. And I'm pretty sure they all still love me. We read together so I could regain composure and assurance that I am, in fact, a good mommy.
It took about twenty minutes for them to come in for dinner, but I think there was a big lesson learned. Don't let Mom find out you jumped out the window!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
A Masterful Compilation of Vocabulary
The title sounds a bit pompous, doesn't it? I'd like to apologize to Jared now, as I'm about to use an offhand statement he made to my husband a few weeks ago as an example to start out this post.
It'd been a while since he'd posted on his own blog (Cowboy Thoughts - link can be found in my blog list), and I commented on how much I'd been missing him. The next day he said something like this to my husband, "Your wife used a word I didn't know," to which my hubby replied, "Yeah, she does that to me all the time."
I had to chuckle, but it's stuck with me since. I've always loved words, and the bigger they are the smarter I sound, lol. Right? RIGHT?
Yet the power a word holds is too often skimmed over in these days. As I stood outside my son's school class waiting for it to end, there were three men talking music and laughing. As I tuned in to what they were actually saying, my ears were assaulted by the use of awful language from one particular young man. The swearing wasn't done in anger, or to insult anyone, it was simply a natural pattern of his conversation. With each word, however, I found myself shifting away from them, chanting internally for the doors to open so I could leave. At one point I covered my ears (with the pretense of keeping them warm) and tapped my teeth so I wouldn't have to listen anymore.
My mind drifted back to one of the most poignant times when the value of words was brought home to me. Believe it or not, I was watching the movie "Hook", the one with Robin Williams. For those who are unfamiliar with it, Robin plays a grownup Peter Pan, who's forgotten who he is. He cannot fly. He cannot fight. This doesn't stop Captain Hook from taking his children, in the hopes of one last, final fight between the two. Tinkerbell promises to get Peter back into fighting form with the help of the Lost Boys.
At one point, they've all sat down to dinner, though you can only see (and eat) the food if you use your imagination (which Peter forgot how to do a long, long time ago). The leader of the Lost Boys, Rufio, begins making fun of Peter, calling him names and such. At last Peter is goaded into taunting the boy right back, and a battle of words commences.
As both Peter and Rufio try to outdo one another we begin to see the value of knowledge in confronting someone who is ready to bring you down. Rufio's name calling eventually deteriorates under Peter's extensive use of words none of the kids understand, until, in a last and desperate attempt to regain ground Rufio shouts out, "You stupid, stupid man!"
It sounded like something a child would shout in anger and frustration. It sounded lame.
The next thing that came to mind was an experience I had a few years ago as I (once again) stood outside waiting for my oldest to come out of class. My youngest was a tiny little thing at the time, and my boys had headed towards the playground to have some fun until the bell rang. A group of girls (about 11 or twelve) gathered nearby, all ready for a confrontation. The fight ended up being one of words, and the words were deplorable! I found myself wanting to cover my baby's ears, and to be honest it took me days to recover from the damage it did to my spirit. Because they had such a limited vocabulary, they had to resort to using the basest and ugliest of words, ones which damage them more than the objects of their hatred.
Words have power. The words that come out of your mouth speak volumes about the person you are. Knowledge is power. The more you learn the better equipped you are to deal with people. If you don't know a word someone uses, look it up. Empower yourself. Empower others. Use these words to uplift and enlighten those around you. One of the most beautiful gifts we can give those we love is a kind word.
It'd been a while since he'd posted on his own blog (Cowboy Thoughts - link can be found in my blog list), and I commented on how much I'd been missing him. The next day he said something like this to my husband, "Your wife used a word I didn't know," to which my hubby replied, "Yeah, she does that to me all the time."
I had to chuckle, but it's stuck with me since. I've always loved words, and the bigger they are the smarter I sound, lol. Right? RIGHT?
Yet the power a word holds is too often skimmed over in these days. As I stood outside my son's school class waiting for it to end, there were three men talking music and laughing. As I tuned in to what they were actually saying, my ears were assaulted by the use of awful language from one particular young man. The swearing wasn't done in anger, or to insult anyone, it was simply a natural pattern of his conversation. With each word, however, I found myself shifting away from them, chanting internally for the doors to open so I could leave. At one point I covered my ears (with the pretense of keeping them warm) and tapped my teeth so I wouldn't have to listen anymore.
My mind drifted back to one of the most poignant times when the value of words was brought home to me. Believe it or not, I was watching the movie "Hook", the one with Robin Williams. For those who are unfamiliar with it, Robin plays a grownup Peter Pan, who's forgotten who he is. He cannot fly. He cannot fight. This doesn't stop Captain Hook from taking his children, in the hopes of one last, final fight between the two. Tinkerbell promises to get Peter back into fighting form with the help of the Lost Boys.
At one point, they've all sat down to dinner, though you can only see (and eat) the food if you use your imagination (which Peter forgot how to do a long, long time ago). The leader of the Lost Boys, Rufio, begins making fun of Peter, calling him names and such. At last Peter is goaded into taunting the boy right back, and a battle of words commences.
As both Peter and Rufio try to outdo one another we begin to see the value of knowledge in confronting someone who is ready to bring you down. Rufio's name calling eventually deteriorates under Peter's extensive use of words none of the kids understand, until, in a last and desperate attempt to regain ground Rufio shouts out, "You stupid, stupid man!"
It sounded like something a child would shout in anger and frustration. It sounded lame.
The next thing that came to mind was an experience I had a few years ago as I (once again) stood outside waiting for my oldest to come out of class. My youngest was a tiny little thing at the time, and my boys had headed towards the playground to have some fun until the bell rang. A group of girls (about 11 or twelve) gathered nearby, all ready for a confrontation. The fight ended up being one of words, and the words were deplorable! I found myself wanting to cover my baby's ears, and to be honest it took me days to recover from the damage it did to my spirit. Because they had such a limited vocabulary, they had to resort to using the basest and ugliest of words, ones which damage them more than the objects of their hatred.
Words have power. The words that come out of your mouth speak volumes about the person you are. Knowledge is power. The more you learn the better equipped you are to deal with people. If you don't know a word someone uses, look it up. Empower yourself. Empower others. Use these words to uplift and enlighten those around you. One of the most beautiful gifts we can give those we love is a kind word.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Sunday Inspirations January 4, 2009
Good morning everyone! I can hardly believe we're already several days into a new year. As anyone who is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (nicknamed the Mormon Church) knows, the beginning of a new year brings about a change in church meeting times, and I find myself with minutes to spare this morning before we have to start getting ready to go.
Though I've spent some time reading through our Sunday School assignment in the Doctrine and Covenants, I decided to do a different sort of inspiration today. I'm not exactly certain what I hope to get out of it, nor what I hope you will get out of it, but I've felt strongly impressed to share some insights with you that I've learned over the years. These insights have been pounded into my head through personal experience, and my recent post about the Bell's Palsy brought so much of it home again.
I have never claimed to be a beauty. A little striking, perhaps, but the large orifice sticking off the end of my face (a.k.a. my nose) has never allowed me the pleasure of living in a delusional world when it comes to my looks. I had fantabulous skin, and always loved my eyes. After several years with braces I could claim a fairly fantastic smile, and I love to smile. Then there's my hair. I spent a lot of years hating my red hair, as children felt far too welcome to make fun of it. As I grew up I learned to appreciate it so much more, but as anyone who is a redhead knows, it's not easy to find clothes in colors that match both hair and skin tone.
Then there's my body. My frame is patterned after a football player...a very short football player. My unfortunate love of everything food bad for me has added substantial padding over the years. I had times of fitness, and actually love to exercise and jog. Weight lifting was one of my favorite classes in high school, as I built up muscle quickly.
Having children seemed to have awful effects on my body from the moment I became pregnant with my oldest. Not only did I gain at least twenty pounds with every kid, but I began to develop skin rashes. I went from soft, clear skin to dry, crackly, painful splotches covering me from head to foot. Literally. I would wake up scratching in the middle of the night. My arms and legs would be covered in scabs. At times I could barely stand to have anyone touch me.
Another effect of the rashes is I struggle to exercise. While I'd feel great doing it, after was absolute torture. I can't even begin to tell you how bad my skin was after I exercised. So I stopped doing it, thus increasing my weight gain.
I'd given up wearing contacts once my prescription wore out, as I couldn't see myself putting precious dollars into something that frankly costs a lot, especially when I could see just as well with glasses. So now my eyes were hidden.
For those who read the previous post here on my blog, you already know what happened next. I awoke one New Year's morning unable to move the entire left side of my face. It took three months before I was able to make a voluntary movement. I had so much hope for complete healing, but after several months it was obvious this wasn't meant to be. In fact, as my nerves reconnected, too many of them didn't make it back to the right place. I still can't smile all the way, my left eye squints when I smile, and if I try to close my eye or raise my eyebrow, the muscles along my cheek pull up.
So, let's sum up. I've lost what little figure I had, my skin is no longer soft and clear, you can't really see my eyes, and my smile is not my smile. I'm sort of waiting to see what happens to my hair. It's the only thing left I can call pretty.
Here's where we start to see the lesson I've learned over the years. First, beauty is fleeting. This is never more obvious than to those who never really had it in the first place. Is it nice to have? You bet! In a perfect world we'd all be stunningly gorgeous. Even when we have it, there's no guarantee it'll stick around.
Second, sometimes giving up the things that help make us beautiful is for the better, at least for a time. I rarely wear makeup, as my skin reacts afterward. I would love to begin exercising again, yet I am aware it's not in the cards at least until my youngest can watch me "Walk Away the Pounds" without having fits. This is not to say I shouldn't take advantage of any chance I have to exercise, but for the most part I realize it's more important for me to attend to the welfare of my children, and that's okay. It's also okay for those who are able to find time to exercise (and congrats to you!).
Third, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It's trite, but it's true. My children think I'm beautiful. My husband tells me how beautiful I am several times a week, and when he looks at me in a certain way I know it's true. I think of those people who are the most beautiful to me, and none of them would consider themselves even remotely pretty, which leads me to...
Fourth, beauty is not just skin deep. Some of the least attractive people in the world become breathtaking when another person bothers to look past the outside. A kind and compassionate heart, a willingness to serve, the incredible gift to bring light and laughter into the lives of others can make the plainest person beautiful. We miss out on so much when we allow the outside shell dictate who we will get to know, and I have known many an attractive face that covers a selfish heart.
Last, and perhaps this is a lesson just for me and what may lie in my future, but one doesn't feel beautiful until one is told he or she is beautiful. Perhaps through learning beauty is more than what is on the outside, one of my missions in life is to help those around me feel as though they truly are beautiful.
I would encourage you to look at those around you, to see more than what is on their outside, and to say what you find to be most beautiful about them.
Though I've spent some time reading through our Sunday School assignment in the Doctrine and Covenants, I decided to do a different sort of inspiration today. I'm not exactly certain what I hope to get out of it, nor what I hope you will get out of it, but I've felt strongly impressed to share some insights with you that I've learned over the years. These insights have been pounded into my head through personal experience, and my recent post about the Bell's Palsy brought so much of it home again.
I have never claimed to be a beauty. A little striking, perhaps, but the large orifice sticking off the end of my face (a.k.a. my nose) has never allowed me the pleasure of living in a delusional world when it comes to my looks. I had fantabulous skin, and always loved my eyes. After several years with braces I could claim a fairly fantastic smile, and I love to smile. Then there's my hair. I spent a lot of years hating my red hair, as children felt far too welcome to make fun of it. As I grew up I learned to appreciate it so much more, but as anyone who is a redhead knows, it's not easy to find clothes in colors that match both hair and skin tone.
Then there's my body. My frame is patterned after a football player...a very short football player. My unfortunate love of everything food bad for me has added substantial padding over the years. I had times of fitness, and actually love to exercise and jog. Weight lifting was one of my favorite classes in high school, as I built up muscle quickly.
Having children seemed to have awful effects on my body from the moment I became pregnant with my oldest. Not only did I gain at least twenty pounds with every kid, but I began to develop skin rashes. I went from soft, clear skin to dry, crackly, painful splotches covering me from head to foot. Literally. I would wake up scratching in the middle of the night. My arms and legs would be covered in scabs. At times I could barely stand to have anyone touch me.
Another effect of the rashes is I struggle to exercise. While I'd feel great doing it, after was absolute torture. I can't even begin to tell you how bad my skin was after I exercised. So I stopped doing it, thus increasing my weight gain.
I'd given up wearing contacts once my prescription wore out, as I couldn't see myself putting precious dollars into something that frankly costs a lot, especially when I could see just as well with glasses. So now my eyes were hidden.
For those who read the previous post here on my blog, you already know what happened next. I awoke one New Year's morning unable to move the entire left side of my face. It took three months before I was able to make a voluntary movement. I had so much hope for complete healing, but after several months it was obvious this wasn't meant to be. In fact, as my nerves reconnected, too many of them didn't make it back to the right place. I still can't smile all the way, my left eye squints when I smile, and if I try to close my eye or raise my eyebrow, the muscles along my cheek pull up.
So, let's sum up. I've lost what little figure I had, my skin is no longer soft and clear, you can't really see my eyes, and my smile is not my smile. I'm sort of waiting to see what happens to my hair. It's the only thing left I can call pretty.
Here's where we start to see the lesson I've learned over the years. First, beauty is fleeting. This is never more obvious than to those who never really had it in the first place. Is it nice to have? You bet! In a perfect world we'd all be stunningly gorgeous. Even when we have it, there's no guarantee it'll stick around.
Second, sometimes giving up the things that help make us beautiful is for the better, at least for a time. I rarely wear makeup, as my skin reacts afterward. I would love to begin exercising again, yet I am aware it's not in the cards at least until my youngest can watch me "Walk Away the Pounds" without having fits. This is not to say I shouldn't take advantage of any chance I have to exercise, but for the most part I realize it's more important for me to attend to the welfare of my children, and that's okay. It's also okay for those who are able to find time to exercise (and congrats to you!).
Third, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It's trite, but it's true. My children think I'm beautiful. My husband tells me how beautiful I am several times a week, and when he looks at me in a certain way I know it's true. I think of those people who are the most beautiful to me, and none of them would consider themselves even remotely pretty, which leads me to...
Fourth, beauty is not just skin deep. Some of the least attractive people in the world become breathtaking when another person bothers to look past the outside. A kind and compassionate heart, a willingness to serve, the incredible gift to bring light and laughter into the lives of others can make the plainest person beautiful. We miss out on so much when we allow the outside shell dictate who we will get to know, and I have known many an attractive face that covers a selfish heart.
Last, and perhaps this is a lesson just for me and what may lie in my future, but one doesn't feel beautiful until one is told he or she is beautiful. Perhaps through learning beauty is more than what is on the outside, one of my missions in life is to help those around me feel as though they truly are beautiful.
I would encourage you to look at those around you, to see more than what is on their outside, and to say what you find to be most beautiful about them.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
An Odd Anniversary
New Years Day of 200_ I awoke to the sound of laughter in the kitchen. What didn't have me jumping right up was a sound I didn't hear - that of a newborn baby crying. This particular child was only three weeks old and it hadn't been an easy time (anyone who's given birth for the third time in three years and did the last one around Christmastime might possibly understand where I'm coming from). I'd actually ended up back in the hospital shortly after the birth because a portion of my right lung had collapsed due to how big the baby was, and a tendency of tiny feet to press upon the aforementioned portion of my body.
Like I said, not the easiest time.
Realizing I might have the chance to catch a few extra minutes of precious sleep I turned onto my side, closed my eyes, and tried to recapture any sort of pleasant dreams that had escaped me. The only problem was my left eye didn't close. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get it to close. I began to notice other oddities: the skin on the left side of my face felt odd - like the feeling one gets as the Novocaine wears off after a dental appointment, my tongue also felt a bit numb, and the whole side felt sluggish.
I immediately got up and dressed, then went to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and took a good look at my face. There was no doubt about it, something was wrong. Even as I watched for those few minutes, the symptoms grew worse. I walked into the kitchen, tried to act nonchalant, and told my husband I think we needed to head to the local Insta-Care.
He went straight into action, and before long my mother was watching the kids while we headed off. I distinctly recall trying to remember if I'd suffered a stroke during the night. I didn't think so (I laugh at myself now, but it was quite traumatic at the time!), but how was I to know.
Just a note - I'm much more familiar with the actual signs of a stroke now.
The doctor reassured me first thing that I hadn't suffered a stroke, then told me I had something called Bell's Palsy. I had never heard of it before in my life, and to be honest the doctor wasn't able to tell me a whole lot. Because it's not a life threatening disease there hasn't been a whole lot of research put into it.
Basically "they" (don't ask me to define who they are, please) believe BP is related to the Herpes Virus (which produces things like cold sores and Shingles), though no one can tell just what will trigger the condition. There is no rhyme nor reason to it - it attacks all ages, all races, both genders. It can appear on either side of the face, or even on both in extreme cases. People have been known to experience partial paralysis which disappears within a few days, will have complete paralysis which heals completely over time, while few will have permanent lasting effects. While most who experience this only get it once, there are others who have had it more times.
For myself, I had the complete paralysis. The doctor gave me a choice at the office. Odds were much of the paralysis might leave if I took a heavy dose of steroids and a viral medication, but I would have to stop nursing during that time. I simply wasn't willing to do so. I'd had the experience of not nursing with my first child due to extreme problems and didn't want to risk not being able to continue to do so even after the meds were out of my system.
For the first three months I endured an awful lot. I had to put a medicine on my eye at night at tape it shut, the effects of which I still struggle with as the eyelid retrained itself not to close without pulling up my cheek. Another side effect was the inability of my eardrum to work correctly, so everything came across as loud. I took to wearing an earplug every time I went outside, and a lot of the time when I held the baby. I still occasionally have problems with loud sounds. My eye began to water a lot, especially every time I ate. It's a bit ridiculous to have to hold a tissue in my hand so I can wipe away the tears so they wouldn't drip into my spaghetti. And yes, I still have a problem with the occasional watering eye, in particular when it's cold and windy outside.
There was a lot of pain as well, specifically on an area behind and below the ear, sort of right underneath the jaw. That side of my face became extremely sensitive, at times so bad I couldn't sleep on it at night. My sweet baby (whom we lovingly and laughingly referred to as our "Bobble-head Baby") would frequently bang his head on my face.
The psychological aftereffects were just as bad. I found myself developing defensive gestures, and recognized it even as I was doing it. For example, when I laughed or smiled my hand would automatically rise to cover up that side of my mouth. My hair parts naturally on the right side, and I began to wear my hair down more often so it would cover the left side of my face. I took to placing my finger on the corner of my mouth and pulling slightly so I could be understood better (one of the greatest ironies of Bell's Palsy - because there is no control of lip muscles you can't really say the letters "B", "P", "F", and "M").
I hated being introduced to new people, not knowing if I wanted them to ask about it, or just ignore it altogether. It put people off, and I can't say I blame them. I remember one morning just before we were heading off to church, I found some pictures in a bag I hadn't had a chance to look at yet. I'd tried to smile, and the effect was horrid. I began crying. It couldn't be helped. My first instinct was to rip the picture up, but I think it's still lurking around the house somewhere. I never wanted to have another picture taken of me again. I felt beyond ugly. Smiling no longer happened naturally, which was particularly heartbreaking as I love to smile.
The first ray of hope occurred almost exactly three months to the day. I was in the bathroom looking in the mirror, and tried to smile. And for the first time in three months I made a movement on purpose: there was a tiny move at the corner of my mouth! I'd experienced a lot of involuntary muscle spasms, but this was the first thing that happened because I wanted it to happen!
Healing was slow going, and has never been complete. You can mostly tell when I take a picture, especially when I'm not aware it's being taken and smiling wide. I still hate having pictures taken, and try to be the one behind the camera. But I have hope.
That first day my husband gave me a priesthood blessing, where I was promised a full recovery. I've received enough blessings and promises over the years to know it doesn't always happen in the ways and times we expect, but I have faith that one day I'll be able to smile without feeling self-conscious about it. I was given an extra special booster the same day I saw the picture of myself - mere minutes after I'd stopped crying my oldest came into the kitchen and told me I was beautiful. You have no idea how much that was needed.
Almost two years later I got BP again, but this time I knew the warning signs, wasn't nursing or pregnant, and was able to take the meds. There was no paralysis that time.
In the hopes I can help someone else who might possibly experience this same thing, here are some of the symptoms you might experience before the paralysis hits in the hopes you can get into the doctor:
I'd begun to get a cold in my neck. In particular there was a pain in the area towards the front, sort of next to the throat. It felt like a stiff neck I couldn't get rid of, not even with pain relievers. Food and liquids tasted weird on that side of my tongue at least a day beforehand. I was excessively tired (but blamed it on the baby. Others I've talked to have said they were tired as well). Remember to keep an eye on the other symptoms I mentioned above: drooling, sensitive ear, numbness in the face, sluggishness of the facial muscles, and a watery eye.
Like I said, not the easiest time.
Realizing I might have the chance to catch a few extra minutes of precious sleep I turned onto my side, closed my eyes, and tried to recapture any sort of pleasant dreams that had escaped me. The only problem was my left eye didn't close. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get it to close. I began to notice other oddities: the skin on the left side of my face felt odd - like the feeling one gets as the Novocaine wears off after a dental appointment, my tongue also felt a bit numb, and the whole side felt sluggish.
I immediately got up and dressed, then went to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and took a good look at my face. There was no doubt about it, something was wrong. Even as I watched for those few minutes, the symptoms grew worse. I walked into the kitchen, tried to act nonchalant, and told my husband I think we needed to head to the local Insta-Care.
He went straight into action, and before long my mother was watching the kids while we headed off. I distinctly recall trying to remember if I'd suffered a stroke during the night. I didn't think so (I laugh at myself now, but it was quite traumatic at the time!), but how was I to know.
Just a note - I'm much more familiar with the actual signs of a stroke now.
The doctor reassured me first thing that I hadn't suffered a stroke, then told me I had something called Bell's Palsy. I had never heard of it before in my life, and to be honest the doctor wasn't able to tell me a whole lot. Because it's not a life threatening disease there hasn't been a whole lot of research put into it.
Basically "they" (don't ask me to define who they are, please) believe BP is related to the Herpes Virus (which produces things like cold sores and Shingles), though no one can tell just what will trigger the condition. There is no rhyme nor reason to it - it attacks all ages, all races, both genders. It can appear on either side of the face, or even on both in extreme cases. People have been known to experience partial paralysis which disappears within a few days, will have complete paralysis which heals completely over time, while few will have permanent lasting effects. While most who experience this only get it once, there are others who have had it more times.
For myself, I had the complete paralysis. The doctor gave me a choice at the office. Odds were much of the paralysis might leave if I took a heavy dose of steroids and a viral medication, but I would have to stop nursing during that time. I simply wasn't willing to do so. I'd had the experience of not nursing with my first child due to extreme problems and didn't want to risk not being able to continue to do so even after the meds were out of my system.
For the first three months I endured an awful lot. I had to put a medicine on my eye at night at tape it shut, the effects of which I still struggle with as the eyelid retrained itself not to close without pulling up my cheek. Another side effect was the inability of my eardrum to work correctly, so everything came across as loud. I took to wearing an earplug every time I went outside, and a lot of the time when I held the baby. I still occasionally have problems with loud sounds. My eye began to water a lot, especially every time I ate. It's a bit ridiculous to have to hold a tissue in my hand so I can wipe away the tears so they wouldn't drip into my spaghetti. And yes, I still have a problem with the occasional watering eye, in particular when it's cold and windy outside.
There was a lot of pain as well, specifically on an area behind and below the ear, sort of right underneath the jaw. That side of my face became extremely sensitive, at times so bad I couldn't sleep on it at night. My sweet baby (whom we lovingly and laughingly referred to as our "Bobble-head Baby") would frequently bang his head on my face.
The psychological aftereffects were just as bad. I found myself developing defensive gestures, and recognized it even as I was doing it. For example, when I laughed or smiled my hand would automatically rise to cover up that side of my mouth. My hair parts naturally on the right side, and I began to wear my hair down more often so it would cover the left side of my face. I took to placing my finger on the corner of my mouth and pulling slightly so I could be understood better (one of the greatest ironies of Bell's Palsy - because there is no control of lip muscles you can't really say the letters "B", "P", "F", and "M").
I hated being introduced to new people, not knowing if I wanted them to ask about it, or just ignore it altogether. It put people off, and I can't say I blame them. I remember one morning just before we were heading off to church, I found some pictures in a bag I hadn't had a chance to look at yet. I'd tried to smile, and the effect was horrid. I began crying. It couldn't be helped. My first instinct was to rip the picture up, but I think it's still lurking around the house somewhere. I never wanted to have another picture taken of me again. I felt beyond ugly. Smiling no longer happened naturally, which was particularly heartbreaking as I love to smile.
The first ray of hope occurred almost exactly three months to the day. I was in the bathroom looking in the mirror, and tried to smile. And for the first time in three months I made a movement on purpose: there was a tiny move at the corner of my mouth! I'd experienced a lot of involuntary muscle spasms, but this was the first thing that happened because I wanted it to happen!
Healing was slow going, and has never been complete. You can mostly tell when I take a picture, especially when I'm not aware it's being taken and smiling wide. I still hate having pictures taken, and try to be the one behind the camera. But I have hope.
That first day my husband gave me a priesthood blessing, where I was promised a full recovery. I've received enough blessings and promises over the years to know it doesn't always happen in the ways and times we expect, but I have faith that one day I'll be able to smile without feeling self-conscious about it. I was given an extra special booster the same day I saw the picture of myself - mere minutes after I'd stopped crying my oldest came into the kitchen and told me I was beautiful. You have no idea how much that was needed.
Almost two years later I got BP again, but this time I knew the warning signs, wasn't nursing or pregnant, and was able to take the meds. There was no paralysis that time.
In the hopes I can help someone else who might possibly experience this same thing, here are some of the symptoms you might experience before the paralysis hits in the hopes you can get into the doctor:
I'd begun to get a cold in my neck. In particular there was a pain in the area towards the front, sort of next to the throat. It felt like a stiff neck I couldn't get rid of, not even with pain relievers. Food and liquids tasted weird on that side of my tongue at least a day beforehand. I was excessively tired (but blamed it on the baby. Others I've talked to have said they were tired as well). Remember to keep an eye on the other symptoms I mentioned above: drooling, sensitive ear, numbness in the face, sluggishness of the facial muscles, and a watery eye.
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