Sunday Inspirations April 11, 2010

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

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

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

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)

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

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

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?"