There is a phrase for moments when things go drastically wrong: "All hell broke loose." I have been thinking a lot about Christmas and snow this past week (we got over a foot of snow within 2 days) and wondering about the moments when things go overwhelmingly right. Why don't we say "all heaven broke loose"?
For example: when Christ was born, the scriptures explain that there was a multitude of heavenly hosts who shared in the happy and excited moment through singing. I have wondered: Was I there? Did I rejoice with the angels and sing at his birth? Did Gideon and I sing together, as we marveled at the gifts that we'd be given--a second chance at life, a resurrected perfect body, understanding from an all-knowing and all-loving being who was willing to experience all of our pain and suffering, so that we don't have to carry our burdens alone? I am pretty sure that the moment that the heavenly hosts sang, the phrase "all heaven broke loose" would have applied.
I've enjoyed the beauty of the world so much, and the stillness, peace, and silence that occur when a thick snow is coming down. The world is such an amazing place, given by a phenomenal Creator, and as the snow fell hard and fast this week, I thought "all heaven must be breaking loose". In the quiet calm of that snow, I thought of the words to Silent Night...all is calm, all is bright. And I think the word could easily be replaced with "all is right." Even though the Savior of the world was being born in a stable, even though there were evil men plotting his demise, even though wickedness still existed in the world, it was an "all is right" type moment.
I don't know if I was there singing with those angels, and if I was there, could I really understand then how much my Savior's gifts would mean to me, prior to experiencing the love of family, the pain of sickness, the emptiness of loss, and the painful moments that sometimes happen and then haunt you throughout life? Did I weep then because I loved and appreciated him? I don't know, but I know that I weep now. I LOVE my Savior. No gifts will ever compare to His gifts.
There continue to be moments in my life when I recognize His hand; I feel His blessings snowing down on me, creating a peace and calm that I can't duplicate on my own. I want to do more to embrace them, to recognize them, to stop and revel in the wonder of the miracles and mercies that are coming down from heaven. Somehow, during the last year and a half, I have become aware that "all heaven breaks loose" on me more often than I ever realized it before, and I have been often been very oblivious to it. I don't know exactly how I'll achieve it, but it's a goal I'll probably have to work on for the rest of my life: to get better at seeing and acknowledging those times for what they really are...moments when all heaven broke loose.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Friday, December 4, 2015
perspectives
Another one of my "nerdy life parallels". You know when you use a microscope, how changing the lens (or perspective) can make a huge difference? If you have the magnification up to high, it can be hard to find what you are even looking at--you might confuse the edge of the slide or a piece of dust with the specimen you're supposed to be actually looking at. It's usually better to start out on a lower power of magnification as you are finding and focusing on your specimen, then increase the magnification. However, the lesser magnification (or perspective) doesn't give you a close enough look to truly grasp the structure of your specimen, and you need to increase the strength and power of your magnification to really see and understand what you are looking at. Sometimes, you think you are seeing something on the lens, and then once you start focusing, you realize that you were looking only at an air bubble in your slide, or a piece of dust. (No hiding it now, I'm a nerd of epic proportions.) Since we learned that Gideon might not get to stay here on earth with us, I feel like my life has gone through a series of perspective and focus changes, similar to what you'd experience while viewing things under a microscope.
In some ways, I have taken a step back. My perspective has broadened, I am looking at the "bigger picture" instead of just focusing on a smaller piece or a smaller detail. I have a greater sense of God's perspective (which I intensely prayed for as we dealt with the reality of his medical problems and then his loss) and I can see myself as who I was and who I am and who I want to be. Not that I understand why, but I know that God understands why, and that one day, when I'm able to even see things from a greater distance, I'll see it too.
I also feel like my ability to magnify and take a closer look at the smaller details of my life has improved. I can more readily see how individual pieces are able to make up the whole. Even when dealing with other people, I feel like my intuition has grown, I can better sympathize and understand people's feelings, having deeply explored grief and pain myself so recently. Again, I don't feel like I understand everything about everyone, and in some ways, I feel like this dose of "magnification" has helped me to realize how much I still don't know and understand about each person. I have found that I am better able to sense feelings and empathize with others, though.
My ability to focus has also grown. As I am blessed with understanding of life, of the "big picture", I can tell when I am focusing on insubstantial things, and I can back up, readjust, and zoom back in on something that is "real". I don't need to waste time on proverbial "air bubbles", and I am better at quickly recognizing them. I have become increasingly frustrated at things that waste my time, or that don't help me to grow in one realm or another, be it socially, mentally, physically, or spiritually. I want to make my time and efforts count each day.
While it has been painful to come by, I am grateful for the increased ability to change perspectives. Life has taken on new meanings, and in many ways has become better and more fully enjoyable because of them, although I also find a deeper level of sorrow and pain, even when empathizing with others. I wish there was a less painful way to have grown in the ability to look at things from different angles, but I'll take the learning and growth with the pain, knowing that one day the pain will be gone, and the perspective will have changed my life for the better.
In some ways, I have taken a step back. My perspective has broadened, I am looking at the "bigger picture" instead of just focusing on a smaller piece or a smaller detail. I have a greater sense of God's perspective (which I intensely prayed for as we dealt with the reality of his medical problems and then his loss) and I can see myself as who I was and who I am and who I want to be. Not that I understand why, but I know that God understands why, and that one day, when I'm able to even see things from a greater distance, I'll see it too.
I also feel like my ability to magnify and take a closer look at the smaller details of my life has improved. I can more readily see how individual pieces are able to make up the whole. Even when dealing with other people, I feel like my intuition has grown, I can better sympathize and understand people's feelings, having deeply explored grief and pain myself so recently. Again, I don't feel like I understand everything about everyone, and in some ways, I feel like this dose of "magnification" has helped me to realize how much I still don't know and understand about each person. I have found that I am better able to sense feelings and empathize with others, though.
My ability to focus has also grown. As I am blessed with understanding of life, of the "big picture", I can tell when I am focusing on insubstantial things, and I can back up, readjust, and zoom back in on something that is "real". I don't need to waste time on proverbial "air bubbles", and I am better at quickly recognizing them. I have become increasingly frustrated at things that waste my time, or that don't help me to grow in one realm or another, be it socially, mentally, physically, or spiritually. I want to make my time and efforts count each day.
While it has been painful to come by, I am grateful for the increased ability to change perspectives. Life has taken on new meanings, and in many ways has become better and more fully enjoyable because of them, although I also find a deeper level of sorrow and pain, even when empathizing with others. I wish there was a less painful way to have grown in the ability to look at things from different angles, but I'll take the learning and growth with the pain, knowing that one day the pain will be gone, and the perspective will have changed my life for the better.
An extra stocking
I turned from my tree to look at my mantle, and my oldest child had hung 6 children's stockings...underneath Gideon's picture is a stocking with a little stuffed animal in it. I had to hold back tears. I almost asked him to take it down, because looking at that extra stocking was surprisingly hard. Sometimes I wonder why this still hurts so much, why I still miss him so very much. He was only here for a week, it seems like it shouldn't be so painful, to miss someone that I didn't even get the chance to know very well. In some ways the fact that he was here such a short time makes it easier, and in other ways, I think it's harder because there is so much that I missed, so many memories I don't have of him.
That stocking has stuck with me for the last week, but it has turned out to be a remarkably good thing. Of course, with Black Friday last week and Cyber Monday this week, many places offered special sales and deals, and I have hunted for awesome prices on just the right presents that I know my family will actually use and enjoy. The extra stocking though...created a problem for me. How do I fill that stocking? In some ways, thinking of Gideon's stocking has kept me grounded, given me a dose of perspective in the buying and shopping, because there is nothing I can buy to fill that stocking. Candy and toys are out of the question. No blankets or stuffed animals will be placed inside. (My children put that stuffed animal into it, it was in one of the flower arrangements we received for his funeral, and they have taken turns sleeping with it since his death.) Thinking of the ways I can fill that stocking has reminded me of the gifts that are most precious and most important.
What can I give my little angel up in heaven? I want to give him my attention, my time, my hugs and love, and that's hard. Every thing I want to give him is intangible, there's no way to fill a stocking with kindness, with love, with trying harder to be better, and with giving my heart to those around me. I think that as I try to become more angelic, more perfect, I become closer to the perfect angel that he is, and more like the Heaven he is experiencing. I also become more like my Savior, and I'm sure he'd appreciate me being more kind, loving, dedicated, and happy too. That's what I want to put in this extra stocking. How does one fill a stocking with such things?
I happened upon the idea that each day, I'd write down the good things I'm doing to draw myself nearer to my Savior, and also nearer to what I'd consider angelic. I have enlisted the help of our family, and it's a team effort this holiday season, to fill Gideon's stocking. Each day, when one of us does something that helps us to come closer to Christ or closer to perfection, we can write it down and add it to that stocking. Gideon is a perfect little being, who never made a mistake. We know he's up in the highest heaven, and we all want to be with him, so we need to work on being as good as we can. We have added things like "I read my scriptures today" or "I gave someone an extra long hug because it seemed like they needed it", and "I tried really hard to get all my work done in school today.", It is good at the end of each day for us to sit back and reflect on the good things we have done to make a difference in the world. Sometimes, the kids can't think of what they did to be better or kinder, and so we team up to find positive things that were said or done, so each of us gets to contribute to the stocking each day. We are going to write down the scriptures we have been working on memorizing and add those to it. They are gifts we are giving to our angel in heaven Gideon, and also to Jesus, and to ourselves.
At first, I thought that the extra stocking would make it harder for me each day, and I won't lie, it's still hard to look at it each day, and miss my little boy very much. However, that extra stocking has inspired all of us to be better, to do more with our time on earth, to reach for our best selves. I wonder why I have never thought to hang an extra stocking before, since it is Jesus' birthday we celebrate after all, so hanging a stocking for him and giving him of the things that matter most makes so much sense. I am hoping this will transform our Christmas season, bringing us closer to our Savior and by helping us become more each day than what we were the day before. I hope that by daily seeking to do good, and help others in our family see the good that they are doing, that we will feel closer to our perfect angel that we still miss so much.
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Thankful for bees
This past Sunday, I happened to be walking past the primary room (where the children from ages 3-12 do their Sunday School and learn music) and I overheard a snippet of a lesson being taught. The woman teaching it was encouraging the children to be grateful in all things (a command found in MANY places in the scriptures, such as 1 Thessalonians 5:18, Alma 7:23, and Psalm 147:7) and she asked them: "Are we thankful for bumblebees?" The room erupted with varied responses, and I giggled as I walked past. Many children obviously had a hard time being grateful for bees. There is this HUGE thing that makes bees really hard to appreciate. They sting.... and it hurts...a lot. As I walked past again a few minutes later, I could hear different children and teachers pointing out good things that bees do, such as pollinate many trees and plants, and make honey. I think that they arrived at the conclusion that they could be grateful for bees, even though bees sometimes sting.
I have been thinking about this ALL week long. Trials sting. Death, loss, and sickness all sting. Snowmobiling accidents cause a lot of pain. These things are hard to be grateful for. As I look back now, I can see how I am better because of these "stinging" experiences. Life holds more joy, even while holding more pain. I relish the time with my family now, more than ever before. I am so grateful to be able to walk, dance, run, play, lift, and carry babies. I'm so aware of the difference that one life can make. These are the honey, the pollination that spreads good things everywhere, and make fruit possible. I continue to reap the fruits of the lessons I learn from my trials. They bless me each day, despite the sting.
In the moment of a sting, when it is fresh and throbbing, it's very difficult to be grateful for bees. The pain supersedes the ability to see all the good that comes from something that would cause it. As a little time passes, and the pain and swelling lessen, it might only occasionally throb, and then it heals completely. No scars, no lasting effects, besides the honey and the pollination. Then it is a little easier to appreciate the bees for the "big picture".
After an accident, an illness, or a loss, the pain is overwhelming. Given some time, the pain still ebbs and flows, but it doesn't knock you down as much as before. These types of things don't really heal completely, sometimes they leave behind residual scars or effects. Our family has learned and adapted to the new normal, where "sad gets into our happy" and where life and family have a deeper meaning to us. I realized, as I heard the discussion about bees that I am no longer in so much constant, overwhelming pain, that it has become easier to appreciate the good things that have come from it. I am so glad to be at a point where the pain doesn't constantly supersede my ability to recognize the good influences that have come from the loss, sickness, and accidents I've experienced. It is a little easier to glimpse the big picture, and appreciate the stings with the good things that have also happened.
So I am thankful for bees. Happy Thanksgiving!!
I have been thinking about this ALL week long. Trials sting. Death, loss, and sickness all sting. Snowmobiling accidents cause a lot of pain. These things are hard to be grateful for. As I look back now, I can see how I am better because of these "stinging" experiences. Life holds more joy, even while holding more pain. I relish the time with my family now, more than ever before. I am so grateful to be able to walk, dance, run, play, lift, and carry babies. I'm so aware of the difference that one life can make. These are the honey, the pollination that spreads good things everywhere, and make fruit possible. I continue to reap the fruits of the lessons I learn from my trials. They bless me each day, despite the sting.
In the moment of a sting, when it is fresh and throbbing, it's very difficult to be grateful for bees. The pain supersedes the ability to see all the good that comes from something that would cause it. As a little time passes, and the pain and swelling lessen, it might only occasionally throb, and then it heals completely. No scars, no lasting effects, besides the honey and the pollination. Then it is a little easier to appreciate the bees for the "big picture".
After an accident, an illness, or a loss, the pain is overwhelming. Given some time, the pain still ebbs and flows, but it doesn't knock you down as much as before. These types of things don't really heal completely, sometimes they leave behind residual scars or effects. Our family has learned and adapted to the new normal, where "sad gets into our happy" and where life and family have a deeper meaning to us. I realized, as I heard the discussion about bees that I am no longer in so much constant, overwhelming pain, that it has become easier to appreciate the good things that have come from it. I am so glad to be at a point where the pain doesn't constantly supersede my ability to recognize the good influences that have come from the loss, sickness, and accidents I've experienced. It is a little easier to glimpse the big picture, and appreciate the stings with the good things that have also happened.
So I am thankful for bees. Happy Thanksgiving!!
Friday, November 20, 2015
Simple faith
I have not blogged in a while, because I have had a difficult time finding words for all that I am feeling. There are still definitely moments when I just don't have words, whether to express my grief at the loss of my son, or the grief as I hurt with people whose hearts feel truly wounded. There is much of tension and pain in the world, and much of judging and misjudging, and it saddens me so much.
This particular post is in reference to the reactions to the updates on the handbook of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (also called Mormons). It has prompted me to do an intense amount of thinking, studying, praying, and soul searching. I have tried hard to make my thoughts and feelings clear, but I'm sure I'll botch it up. I'm limited by words, which can't really do my feelings justice. I will certainly try to explain my feelings, promptings, and thoughts, which are simultaneously very simple and complex.
Simple question: Do I believe God and Jesus Christ are the author of this church? Absolutely. It's not a church belonging to apostles, or people, it's God's church.
Simple question: Do I believe the apostles are called of God to lead his church? Yes. I've heard them speak and felt their words touch my heart. They LOVE people, they are kind, good men who encourage each of us to be better than ourselves.
Simple question: Do I believe the scriptures were given by God to direct his children on earth? Yes. A man once told me that life is an open book test. God sent us here with instructions, with a road map. I want to do all I can to follow it.
It then mostly boils down to this simple question: Is homosexuality a sin? The scriptures make it clear that homosexuality is a sin (Genesis 19, Leviticus 18:22, 2 Timothy 3:1-5) PAUSE before you call me a "homophobe." I have both friends and family who are homosexuals...do I fear or hate them because they are sinning?? I think that's preposterous. I love them lots and lots. God loves me, and I'm a sinner. Do I judge them harshly because they are sinners? NO!!! I definitely don't want to judge them harshly, because we are told multiple places in the scriptures that the way we judge others will be the way we are judged. (Matthew 7:1-2) He also reminds us that we should not cast stones if we are sinners. (John 8:1-7) God will know our hearts and challenges, and judge us fairly, and I'll leave that job to him, I'm sure that I can't do as good a job as He will. Of course, we have to make some judgements in our day to day life, and again, the scriptures back that up. We are supposed to judge situations and circumstances to see if they will help us to be good and righteous or not. (Bible: Leviticus 19:15, John 7:24. Luke 12:57. Book of Mormon Moroni 7: 12-14.) Back to the first simple question: if I am following Christ and God, then I love all people, especially sinners (which is all of us). I associate with them, I eat with them, I walk with them, and I also encourage them to become better than who they are (just like I want them to do for me--good friends do help you become your best self.) I want them to be happy, and I want them to also follow Jesus and choose to follow His commandments, but my love for them is not conditional on their choices. I appreciate that they want me to be happy, and I may not agree with the way they think I should do it, and I hope they feel the same way. I hope others want to be with me, even though I'm a sinner, and I am grateful for their love and encouragement, despite my imperfections.
This begs the question: if we desire to associate with all people, all sinners, then why not allow the children of homosexual couples to be baptized until they're 18 years old? I struggled with this, so I prayed about this. After all, if it's God's church, and God is my father and hears my prayers, won't He answer them? This is where He took my thoughts as I have pondered and sought for answers. Baptism is a commandment, found in multiple places in the scriptures (Matt 3:15-16, Acts 2:38, Alma(Book of Mormon) 7:14). However, a doctrine that is unique to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormon church) is that baptism is a covenant or a promise that we make. Through baptism, we promise to follow Him, to join with His church, to serve Him, and to mourn with those that mourn, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort (Book of Mormon, Mosiah 18: 8-10 & 13). It is not a promise to be taken lightly, or a commitment that should be shrugged off when it gets hard, and it does. (Now I realize that MANY people have entered into this commitment and "dropped the ball", and so have I. Let's not dwell on the hypocrisy of all humanity, as we strive to be better than what we are, but fall short repeatedly.)
We believe that it's a serious thing to walk away from knowledge, light, and truth, and that there is increased accountability to God for shrugging off our promises to Him after we've made them. And living in a home where homosexuality is normal and accepted does strongly contradict the teachings of the Savior. How difficult would it be to be the person who made a serious commitment to live according to God's commandments, to believe that practicing homosexuality is wrong, and then also live in a home where homosexuality was practiced? Would the parents approve and be OK with their child's decision? Could it alienate the child from their family during the years when they need so much support and love? Wouldn't it cause immense tension? And won't a child who has joined a church and sees their parental figures sinning in a way that is wholly disapproved by the church have a very difficult time with not judging their parents? I truly feel that it would put both the child and their parents into an extremely tense and difficult situation, and would definitely make it harder for this child to both keep their serious promises to God and to love and not judge their family, and for their family to feel loved and accepted by them. So the age at which they can be baptized was moved up to 18 for children in this type of situation. They are still welcomed (and encouraged) to attend church, to ask for and receive priesthood blessings, and to participate in callings (assignments/responsibilities.) This will give them time to decide if baptism is truly something they want to commit to, so that they don't commit and walk away, and will give them time to mature a little, so they can learn how to love and not to judge people who make different choices than they are deciding to make.
Honestly, I bet there is more to it than that. Sometimes we won't understand why God does certain things. In Isaiah 55:8, the Lord reminds us that his thoughts are not our thoughts, and his ways are not our ways. I don't understand the ins and outs of everything under creation. I don't know exactly why the leaders of the church felt prompted to make this a policy, but after I prayed about it I felt better about it.
If it's His church, and we are His children, and He wants what is best for us, He will help us understand. Perhaps we won't have all the answers today, or tomorrow. I don't understand why my infant son had to die, why I only had 1 week with him here on earth. I sure miss him, and I wish it had been part of God's plan to heal him and let him stay here. I believe, though, that God knows what he is doing, and that one day, I'll understand why, and that I'll actually be grateful to the Lord for the things he put in motion in my life. I believe that one day, we'll also see this situation through his eyes, and it will make more sense. In the meantime, I am going to trust his apostles.
This is not blind faith. I struggled with the policy when I first heard about it, I hurt for children and families that it may affect. That is precisely why I spent so much time asking God for help. I know that God answers prayers, He has answered mine in more times and ways than I can list here. I know that I've felt the spirit when I've heard the apostles, and that they are kind, loving men who are trying to make the world a better place. I am trying to follow their example by loving, serving, learning, and reaching to be better than my best each day, and by letting my faith lead me forward on a path to be more like my Savior, who both asked people to follow Him by keeping his commandments (John 14:15), and also who asked us to love one another as He loves us (John 13:34).
This particular post is in reference to the reactions to the updates on the handbook of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (also called Mormons). It has prompted me to do an intense amount of thinking, studying, praying, and soul searching. I have tried hard to make my thoughts and feelings clear, but I'm sure I'll botch it up. I'm limited by words, which can't really do my feelings justice. I will certainly try to explain my feelings, promptings, and thoughts, which are simultaneously very simple and complex.
Simple question: Do I believe God and Jesus Christ are the author of this church? Absolutely. It's not a church belonging to apostles, or people, it's God's church.
Simple question: Do I believe the apostles are called of God to lead his church? Yes. I've heard them speak and felt their words touch my heart. They LOVE people, they are kind, good men who encourage each of us to be better than ourselves.
Simple question: Do I believe the scriptures were given by God to direct his children on earth? Yes. A man once told me that life is an open book test. God sent us here with instructions, with a road map. I want to do all I can to follow it.
It then mostly boils down to this simple question: Is homosexuality a sin? The scriptures make it clear that homosexuality is a sin (Genesis 19, Leviticus 18:22, 2 Timothy 3:1-5) PAUSE before you call me a "homophobe." I have both friends and family who are homosexuals...do I fear or hate them because they are sinning?? I think that's preposterous. I love them lots and lots. God loves me, and I'm a sinner. Do I judge them harshly because they are sinners? NO!!! I definitely don't want to judge them harshly, because we are told multiple places in the scriptures that the way we judge others will be the way we are judged. (Matthew 7:1-2) He also reminds us that we should not cast stones if we are sinners. (John 8:1-7) God will know our hearts and challenges, and judge us fairly, and I'll leave that job to him, I'm sure that I can't do as good a job as He will. Of course, we have to make some judgements in our day to day life, and again, the scriptures back that up. We are supposed to judge situations and circumstances to see if they will help us to be good and righteous or not. (Bible: Leviticus 19:15, John 7:24. Luke 12:57. Book of Mormon Moroni 7: 12-14.) Back to the first simple question: if I am following Christ and God, then I love all people, especially sinners (which is all of us). I associate with them, I eat with them, I walk with them, and I also encourage them to become better than who they are (just like I want them to do for me--good friends do help you become your best self.) I want them to be happy, and I want them to also follow Jesus and choose to follow His commandments, but my love for them is not conditional on their choices. I appreciate that they want me to be happy, and I may not agree with the way they think I should do it, and I hope they feel the same way. I hope others want to be with me, even though I'm a sinner, and I am grateful for their love and encouragement, despite my imperfections.
This begs the question: if we desire to associate with all people, all sinners, then why not allow the children of homosexual couples to be baptized until they're 18 years old? I struggled with this, so I prayed about this. After all, if it's God's church, and God is my father and hears my prayers, won't He answer them? This is where He took my thoughts as I have pondered and sought for answers. Baptism is a commandment, found in multiple places in the scriptures (Matt 3:15-16, Acts 2:38, Alma(Book of Mormon) 7:14). However, a doctrine that is unique to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormon church) is that baptism is a covenant or a promise that we make. Through baptism, we promise to follow Him, to join with His church, to serve Him, and to mourn with those that mourn, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort (Book of Mormon, Mosiah 18: 8-10 & 13). It is not a promise to be taken lightly, or a commitment that should be shrugged off when it gets hard, and it does. (Now I realize that MANY people have entered into this commitment and "dropped the ball", and so have I. Let's not dwell on the hypocrisy of all humanity, as we strive to be better than what we are, but fall short repeatedly.)
We believe that it's a serious thing to walk away from knowledge, light, and truth, and that there is increased accountability to God for shrugging off our promises to Him after we've made them. And living in a home where homosexuality is normal and accepted does strongly contradict the teachings of the Savior. How difficult would it be to be the person who made a serious commitment to live according to God's commandments, to believe that practicing homosexuality is wrong, and then also live in a home where homosexuality was practiced? Would the parents approve and be OK with their child's decision? Could it alienate the child from their family during the years when they need so much support and love? Wouldn't it cause immense tension? And won't a child who has joined a church and sees their parental figures sinning in a way that is wholly disapproved by the church have a very difficult time with not judging their parents? I truly feel that it would put both the child and their parents into an extremely tense and difficult situation, and would definitely make it harder for this child to both keep their serious promises to God and to love and not judge their family, and for their family to feel loved and accepted by them. So the age at which they can be baptized was moved up to 18 for children in this type of situation. They are still welcomed (and encouraged) to attend church, to ask for and receive priesthood blessings, and to participate in callings (assignments/responsibilities.) This will give them time to decide if baptism is truly something they want to commit to, so that they don't commit and walk away, and will give them time to mature a little, so they can learn how to love and not to judge people who make different choices than they are deciding to make.
Honestly, I bet there is more to it than that. Sometimes we won't understand why God does certain things. In Isaiah 55:8, the Lord reminds us that his thoughts are not our thoughts, and his ways are not our ways. I don't understand the ins and outs of everything under creation. I don't know exactly why the leaders of the church felt prompted to make this a policy, but after I prayed about it I felt better about it.
If it's His church, and we are His children, and He wants what is best for us, He will help us understand. Perhaps we won't have all the answers today, or tomorrow. I don't understand why my infant son had to die, why I only had 1 week with him here on earth. I sure miss him, and I wish it had been part of God's plan to heal him and let him stay here. I believe, though, that God knows what he is doing, and that one day, I'll understand why, and that I'll actually be grateful to the Lord for the things he put in motion in my life. I believe that one day, we'll also see this situation through his eyes, and it will make more sense. In the meantime, I am going to trust his apostles.
This is not blind faith. I struggled with the policy when I first heard about it, I hurt for children and families that it may affect. That is precisely why I spent so much time asking God for help. I know that God answers prayers, He has answered mine in more times and ways than I can list here. I know that I've felt the spirit when I've heard the apostles, and that they are kind, loving men who are trying to make the world a better place. I am trying to follow their example by loving, serving, learning, and reaching to be better than my best each day, and by letting my faith lead me forward on a path to be more like my Savior, who both asked people to follow Him by keeping his commandments (John 14:15), and also who asked us to love one another as He loves us (John 13:34).
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Time: a gift
Last week, for no reason I can explain (though I have theories), was very emotional for me. I have missed my Gideon, I have wondered about who he would be right now, I have longed for the moments I could have been having with him over the last 15 months. I am longing for the precious gift of time with my little boy.
I have done a lot of thinking about this precious gift, the gift of time. I realize that I have not understood or appreciated its value nearly so much as I do now. In some ways, my newfound appreciation for time has been bad for me because I am SUPER irritated when I notice that I am wasting time, or when others waste my time, or when my children are wasting time, because it seems like throwing away a treasure of immeasurable worth. However, it has also made me more laid back, happy, and forgiving than I used to be. My time with people here on earth is limited--I don't know HOW limited, but it will end. I don't want to spend years holding a grudge when I could let it go and be making memories and enjoying happiness with someone. When my time is up, I hope not to look back and wish I had spent so much of it differently. So I am more inclined to take extra moments to hug my children, to breathe deeply and check to see if I'm using my "yelling voice" or my "explaining voice" when I talk to them. I have sought for more opportunities to make memories with my family, and to do better things with the time I've been given. I treasure the time I have with them, the chance I have to get to know who they are, to help build relationships with them.Time is a gift that I took for granted for a long time. It is something I never gave full credit to. I am somewhat disappointed as I look back at moments that I could and should have chosen to use differently. Sometimes it is a rather painful awareness, seeing the many moments I didn't treasure. I try not to waste too much time looking back, as it's impossible to change what has already been done, but there is no harm in learning from the past and trying to make the most out of the present and future. I am trying to give this precious gift its due respect and attention.
I also treasure time spent with my other loved ones. Don't get me wrong though, and misjudge me as a flowery lovey dovey soul. Every day does not come filled with chocolate, bunnies, and roses; there are still days when my children are sick, my husband and I get frustrated with each other, or people irritate me. I have discovered a new ability to appreciate the bad and frustrating moments, though, right along with the good ones. These moments are helping me grow, helping me get to know my family members, giving me the chance to serve, that I might not have otherwise had.
I don't think I will ever look back on the one week I had with my infant son and feel like it was enough time. I am sometimes haunted by the moments I didn't spend with him. I wish I had held him longer, gone to the NICU in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep, but I didn't. I can't go back...just forward. Time ticked and passed whether I was using it to build relationships and memories, to grow and learn, to serve or help, or whether I used it on frivolous pursuits. (I wince as I think of watching TV during that week of Gideon's life...what a waste.)
Good relationships are a treasure beyond compare; they lend strength, color, depth, and happiness to life. Healthy relationships (the kind that inspire each person to reach for their potential) should be nurtured, guarded, valued, and appreciated. They don't grow without an investment of time. Being present in the moment, making memories together, serving one another, creating together...I wish I had realized sooner how much of a gift all of these things are.
I think, when someone we love dies, what hurts the most is that longing for more time with them. I don't think it matters whether they are 2 days, 2 years, 2 decades or 102 years old. We hope they know how much we loved them, and often wish for the chance to tell them plainly about our feelings. We wish for more memories, for the chance to give (and receive) another hug, another touch, and we wish we would be able to nurture our relationship with them more. I felt that way when each of my grandfathers died, and when my son died.
In some ways, the choice of using time wisely, choosing not to be truly engaged in building up the things that matter most in life is similar to the Bible story where Esau sells his birthright for a mess of pottage. Our birthright, what we are God given is the chance to learn and grow to be like him, to love deeply, to serve others, to gain knowledge and wisdom. We can choose to use our time to try to become more like him, growing, loving
, serving, working hard, creating, or we can choose to use it on other things....things that don't really matter, and aren't of lasting value.I wanted to find a scripture that communicated this idea. Two came close, but can't quite put it into words the way I want them to. Deuteronomy 30:19 says "I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live;" More than ever, I want to live, to really live. I don't want to throw away precious time, precious relationships, precious opportunities. 2 Nephi 9:13-14 in the Book of Mormon talks about God's plan for us, and how when we're resurrected we'll have a perfect knowledge of our guilt or a perfect knowledge of our joy and righteousness.
My time is limited. As with all resources, choices have to be made, there is no way to go into debt on time, and whether I have to stand before God or whether I just have to stand and face myself in the mirror, I am very determined to be using time to do things that will matter to me for the rest of my life. I want to choose my life and feel happy about it, to look back and be glad I used the gift of time to build up and enhance other wonderful treasures in my life.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Blessings and trials
What an emotional week this has been! I have tried hard with this blog to keep it real, to express both my grief and my joy, to share in the things I am learning about myself and my family, and to explore the growth that I see in myself and in my husband and children. It seems like a week that should have been so full of happiness, but I surprisingly found it to be very bittersweet.
Let me explain a little about a baby blessing. In my religion, when a baby is 1 to 2 months old, we gather to bless a baby (similar to a christening), to give the child a name, and a priesthood blessing. Worthy males who hold the priesthood gather, the spokesperson (often the baby's father or grandfather) holds the baby and the others form a circle including him and the child. Similarly to a prayer, the spokesperson addresses Heavenly Father, gives the child a name, and then give a blessing based on the feelings and impressions they receive. I believe in the power of priesthood blessings, I have had them pronounced on my own head (in times of need, it is absolutely acceptable to ask for a blessing) and I have heard answers to prayers that I had not explained to anyone else. I have been told things that have made it clear to me that The Lord has heard my prayers, my concerns and desires.
Today was Miriam's baby blessing day. Our family gathered at our home afterward to have a celebration luncheon, and so this week has been a week of preparing. It has been a good excuse and motivator for me to clean and organize more thoroughly than usual, but during all the organizing, sorting, and cleaning I have had a lot of time to think about all the "whoop and holler" that surrounds a special baby blessing. I have told many people in the past that I have thought it a silly tradition to gather at the home of a new mother and father, who are most likely getting the least sleep of any in the bunch. It is highly illogical (and I like logic a lot, but not so much that I have let it stop me from having 6 babies.) However, I was so excited to share this day with our family. I have been beyond excited....perhaps "elated" would be a better word.
I have experienced a whole different "no frills" version of a baby blessing, and this was far better. Gideon's blessing came with no frills and no fuss. We knew he probably wouldn't live long, and we wanted the chance to give him a blessing before he passed away. He did not have a circle of priesthood holders, just his father and our dear Bishop who made a special trip to the hospital to support us and to be there for that moment. His blessing was given to him in his incubator bed, and there was no family gathering afterward, just quiet crying from Scott and I.
So as I have cleaned my house this week, I have been so grateful for the chance to celebrate our baby with many of the people we love and cherish. I have been happy to put in extra time, effort, and money into a gathering, despite a little tiredness. But I have been reminded as I have cleaned the floor and washed walls and etc. of all the things that I didn't get to do to celebrate Gideon's life. His funeral was our big family gathering after his birth.... I sat on my kitchen floor and cried this week. I miss him. I wish I knew more about him, I realize what a gift time is with our loved ones, and I felt robbed of time with him. I wish I could have taken living pictures of him in a little white suit, instead of just pictures after his death. It was a hard week of preparing, but it was also "cleansing" to get the chance to celebrate a life again.
My sweet and talented grandmother made this blessing dress, and I treasure it. Even though she is 80+, she still creates beautiful things and shares them with her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. I'm so happy to have this beautiful creation of hers. She had also made the tuxedo that we buried Gideon in. She's so amazingly talented that after coming to see him in the NICU and being there for his blessing day, she created a tiny tux which fit him, and sent it to us in time for his funeral. She put it together in less than a week.
I am so grateful for the chance I had to share my thoughts and feelings with my family. I'll try to do a separate post later about what I said, but mainly I talked about precious things in my life, gifts that the Lord has blessed me with that I have sometimes taken for granted, and I talked about how my perspective has changed, causing me to realize how dear and special so many things are in my life. Scott was also able to share his testimony of trusting in the Lord, knowing that God has a reason for what we are going through. D&C 6:36 is our family's scripture to ponder this week "Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not." Scott's testimony declared the Lord's loving plan for each of us, which sometimes involves pain, struggles, and questions, but which also involves us learning and growing, shaped by him to become who he wants us to be.
Miriam has been (and will continue to be) a healing balm in our lives, and will be close to Gideon. She was blessed to be in tune with the needs of those around her and to be able to comfort and help in ways that aren't always obvious. It was a beautiful blessing, but it was so hard, remembering and wishing we'd have been able to have these moments with our Gideon too. We have thought of him so much this week.
I don't know if it's normal for people to feel so much emotion with their "rainbow baby" but I certainly do. I have treasured more moments than ever before, but felt such a sense of longing for moments with the one I sent home to heaven. I feel confident in the Lord, though I still don't understand why our experiences have been chosen for us. I feel very blessed by my family, even as I miss my son deeply. I have shed many tears this week, many of them in gratitude for the chance to have these moments with my Miriam, and some of them in sadness for the moments I didn't get to have with my Gideon.
Let me explain a little about a baby blessing. In my religion, when a baby is 1 to 2 months old, we gather to bless a baby (similar to a christening), to give the child a name, and a priesthood blessing. Worthy males who hold the priesthood gather, the spokesperson (often the baby's father or grandfather) holds the baby and the others form a circle including him and the child. Similarly to a prayer, the spokesperson addresses Heavenly Father, gives the child a name, and then give a blessing based on the feelings and impressions they receive. I believe in the power of priesthood blessings, I have had them pronounced on my own head (in times of need, it is absolutely acceptable to ask for a blessing) and I have heard answers to prayers that I had not explained to anyone else. I have been told things that have made it clear to me that The Lord has heard my prayers, my concerns and desires.
Today was Miriam's baby blessing day. Our family gathered at our home afterward to have a celebration luncheon, and so this week has been a week of preparing. It has been a good excuse and motivator for me to clean and organize more thoroughly than usual, but during all the organizing, sorting, and cleaning I have had a lot of time to think about all the "whoop and holler" that surrounds a special baby blessing. I have told many people in the past that I have thought it a silly tradition to gather at the home of a new mother and father, who are most likely getting the least sleep of any in the bunch. It is highly illogical (and I like logic a lot, but not so much that I have let it stop me from having 6 babies.) However, I was so excited to share this day with our family. I have been beyond excited....perhaps "elated" would be a better word.
I have experienced a whole different "no frills" version of a baby blessing, and this was far better. Gideon's blessing came with no frills and no fuss. We knew he probably wouldn't live long, and we wanted the chance to give him a blessing before he passed away. He did not have a circle of priesthood holders, just his father and our dear Bishop who made a special trip to the hospital to support us and to be there for that moment. His blessing was given to him in his incubator bed, and there was no family gathering afterward, just quiet crying from Scott and I.
So as I have cleaned my house this week, I have been so grateful for the chance to celebrate our baby with many of the people we love and cherish. I have been happy to put in extra time, effort, and money into a gathering, despite a little tiredness. But I have been reminded as I have cleaned the floor and washed walls and etc. of all the things that I didn't get to do to celebrate Gideon's life. His funeral was our big family gathering after his birth.... I sat on my kitchen floor and cried this week. I miss him. I wish I knew more about him, I realize what a gift time is with our loved ones, and I felt robbed of time with him. I wish I could have taken living pictures of him in a little white suit, instead of just pictures after his death. It was a hard week of preparing, but it was also "cleansing" to get the chance to celebrate a life again.
My sweet and talented grandmother made this blessing dress, and I treasure it. Even though she is 80+, she still creates beautiful things and shares them with her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. I'm so happy to have this beautiful creation of hers. She had also made the tuxedo that we buried Gideon in. She's so amazingly talented that after coming to see him in the NICU and being there for his blessing day, she created a tiny tux which fit him, and sent it to us in time for his funeral. She put it together in less than a week.
Miriam has been (and will continue to be) a healing balm in our lives, and will be close to Gideon. She was blessed to be in tune with the needs of those around her and to be able to comfort and help in ways that aren't always obvious. It was a beautiful blessing, but it was so hard, remembering and wishing we'd have been able to have these moments with our Gideon too. We have thought of him so much this week.
I don't know if it's normal for people to feel so much emotion with their "rainbow baby" but I certainly do. I have treasured more moments than ever before, but felt such a sense of longing for moments with the one I sent home to heaven. I feel confident in the Lord, though I still don't understand why our experiences have been chosen for us. I feel very blessed by my family, even as I miss my son deeply. I have shed many tears this week, many of them in gratitude for the chance to have these moments with my Miriam, and some of them in sadness for the moments I didn't get to have with my Gideon.
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Rainbow baby
Here in the Wasatch Front, the air gets pretty dirty. Pollution and dirt and dust collect in the huge valley surrounded by all the mountains. I love the clarity that comes right after rain, when I can look out my window and see mountains clear across Salt Lake, a VERY long way away. I love the way the world smells after a rain storm, it's so fresh and clean and delightful. Sometimes I am lucky enough to witness a rainbow near the end of a storm, and sometimes not, but there is definitely a clarity and crispness in the air, and a scent of life, and freshness.
I hadn't heard the term "rainbow baby" until I was in the hospital delivering Miriam. Of course my nurses asked about previous pregnancies and so we explained about Gideon. She said "Oh--this is your rainbow baby." and I have loved the term since.
Not that I would wish a loss on anyone, but I have never loved having a newborn so much before, and I appreciate the joy that I feel with this one compared to the others. I almost feel guilty for how much I didn't enjoy the others, because I am so delighted with her. I was so tired from time spent feeding, changing, and rocking the baby, and so I didn't see past the exhaustion. Now my overriding emotion is gratitude. I'm still tired, but I'm also so grateful for the chance to feed, change, and rock her. Hearing her cry at first was such a blessing, and I still sometimes laugh when she is crying, because I'm just so happy to be with her, to have had this last six weeks to hold her and love her, to see her beginning to smile, and to get to understand who she is (she's a good eater who doesn't like to have a dirty bum, and she's a sucker for a snuggle from her Daddy, who can almost always calm her down.)
Miri is a delightful little rainbow. We actually had 2 storms before she joined us...not many people know, but we miscarried one before Gideon was conceived.
I loved the beautiful way these photographers captured rainbow babies and their mothers. There is some amazing joy here, so perhaps grab a tissue.
Photographers capture Rainbow Babies www.littlethings.com
Losing a child really can feel like weathering a rough storm. It is dark, dreary, and scary. It can be really disorienting and disrupt daily life. It's a storm so rough that an umbrella doesn't cut it...I know that storms really don't end completely, there are still moments of dark, disorienting, disruptive dreariness, and a longing that I can't explain--even with my baby in my arms. It feels less like a constant torrential downpour, and more like a cloudburst as part of a normal weather pattern. I anticipate that these "cloudbursts" will continue for most of my life. (In fact, the other day, we took our kids out for fast food, and at the playland, a boy was calling to his little brother, whose name happened to be Gideon. We left with me in tears.) That being said, the storm is not severe all the time, and there is a clarity that has come from weathering it; my perspective has broadened, I feel like I can see more now. It's like when I can see the mountains in the distance after a rain storm--they were already there, I just couldn't see them before the storm cleaned the air. And our rainbow baby truly feels like a miracle. Life is precious...all life, whether a baby is a rainbow baby or not, a baby is a miracle. I love her so much, and I love time I spend with her, even if it's diaper changing, sleep lost, or fussy time. She has added color and beauty to our world, and I marvel at the miracle she is.
I hadn't heard the term "rainbow baby" until I was in the hospital delivering Miriam. Of course my nurses asked about previous pregnancies and so we explained about Gideon. She said "Oh--this is your rainbow baby." and I have loved the term since.
Not that I would wish a loss on anyone, but I have never loved having a newborn so much before, and I appreciate the joy that I feel with this one compared to the others. I almost feel guilty for how much I didn't enjoy the others, because I am so delighted with her. I was so tired from time spent feeding, changing, and rocking the baby, and so I didn't see past the exhaustion. Now my overriding emotion is gratitude. I'm still tired, but I'm also so grateful for the chance to feed, change, and rock her. Hearing her cry at first was such a blessing, and I still sometimes laugh when she is crying, because I'm just so happy to be with her, to have had this last six weeks to hold her and love her, to see her beginning to smile, and to get to understand who she is (she's a good eater who doesn't like to have a dirty bum, and she's a sucker for a snuggle from her Daddy, who can almost always calm her down.)
Miri is a delightful little rainbow. We actually had 2 storms before she joined us...not many people know, but we miscarried one before Gideon was conceived.
I loved the beautiful way these photographers captured rainbow babies and their mothers. There is some amazing joy here, so perhaps grab a tissue.
Photographers capture Rainbow Babies www.littlethings.com
Losing a child really can feel like weathering a rough storm. It is dark, dreary, and scary. It can be really disorienting and disrupt daily life. It's a storm so rough that an umbrella doesn't cut it...I know that storms really don't end completely, there are still moments of dark, disorienting, disruptive dreariness, and a longing that I can't explain--even with my baby in my arms. It feels less like a constant torrential downpour, and more like a cloudburst as part of a normal weather pattern. I anticipate that these "cloudbursts" will continue for most of my life. (In fact, the other day, we took our kids out for fast food, and at the playland, a boy was calling to his little brother, whose name happened to be Gideon. We left with me in tears.) That being said, the storm is not severe all the time, and there is a clarity that has come from weathering it; my perspective has broadened, I feel like I can see more now. It's like when I can see the mountains in the distance after a rain storm--they were already there, I just couldn't see them before the storm cleaned the air. And our rainbow baby truly feels like a miracle. Life is precious...all life, whether a baby is a rainbow baby or not, a baby is a miracle. I love her so much, and I love time I spend with her, even if it's diaper changing, sleep lost, or fussy time. She has added color and beauty to our world, and I marvel at the miracle she is.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Cranky and tired, but I have a plan to soften my heart
Firstly, I'll update on the status of things here in our home. Our baby is doing well, she's quite a good eater, and growing like she should. She's begun to do slightly longer stretches at night, sometimes going 4 or 5 hours between feedings, so I'm still tired, but it's not so bad. Holding her feels so good to my heart, and I am pretty certain she's held and doted on more than any of my other babies (and not just by me, as anyone who has watched my husband with her can attest.) It is sometimes hard, I look down at her face and can see the resemblance she has to my other children, even to Gideon. It makes me miss him, and wonder how he'd be doing by now likely uttering his first words, walking, and curious and into everything. It also makes me so grateful for the chance I have to nurse and snuggle her, even to hear what her cry sounds like. I sometimes wonder as I see her focus on places in the room where no-one is standing. if she can see Gideon, and hope he knows that we love him and miss him still.
That's not what I intended to blog about today, though.
I have teased people about borrowing my children when they need to understand their scriptures. Not because my children know and understand so much, but because they aren't afraid to stop and ask questions. If we read a word or phrase they (or we) don't understand, instead of skipping past it, we talk about it, guess at its meaning, and seek for ways to understand it. Often, as we attempt to understand things and spend a little time pondering, our minds and hearts open up, and we gain insights. I understand my scriptures way better as I read them to and with my children. (Says the Mom who is going on 3 nights in a row of skipping family scripture study because it got too late and the kids need sleep--and so do I.)
On one of these "break it down" moments, as we talked about hard hearts, I stumbled upon a great metaphor for life. Our hearts are like playdoh, and God is the creator. He's trying to shape us, to create some awesome stuff. Playdoh is perfect right out of the box, but just from being out in the world, it starts to dry up, just as we tend to become more tough and hardened by the world. This is easily remedied with a few drops of water after playing with it--and as we make sure we partake of daily living water (scripture study/prayer/spiritual experiences), we keep our hearts soft and easily shaped. Another way to keep playdoh in good shape is to make sure it's container (it's home) is sealed well (a holy place where the world can't get in and dry it all up.) Occasionally, the playdoh gets quite dry, and it takes more water to help it be able to be used. And sometimes, it's just so hard, there's not much to be done besides start over with new playdoh. Hard playdoh can't be shaped--it MUST be softened before anything can be done with it.
Several times in 1 Nephi, Nephi explains about his brothers' hard hearts. It makes sense that no matter the amazing tools the Lord was using to try and shape their lives (Liahona, seeing an angel, witnessing miracles, a father who was a prophet), nothing worked. Their playdoh needed to be softened first. And occasionally, they did add water, the spirit touched them. They just never maintained the habit of adding living water, so their hearts dried right back up again.
This is a cautionary tale for me as much as anyone. I noticed today (after a few days in a row of falling short on my scripture study) that I have a very testy temper, I feel not like my best, most patient self. Once I realized that I am not being as nice as usual, I started thinking about what I needed to do to fix it. Sleep would help, but I've been running on lack of sleep for many weeks now, and I knew that wasn't the only culprit. I tried to remember how many days it has been since I did good scripture study, and it's been a few (less than a week, but several days) and my prayers have been more sporadic and not as deep (again--tiredness taking its toll). I remembered about the playdoh, and I know I need to do better, to get myself back where I want to be, where the Lord can shape me and help me be what he knows i can become. I need to do better about adding living water into my life each day, more so now, with the tiredness than before.
Another part of the parable that applies particularly right now is that playdoh dries out faster in different temperatures/climates than others. Heat/dry air will definitely take a toll faster than cold/wet air. Some days are harder on our spirits than others. Gideon's grave marker finally was put in at his grave site, and it was hard for both Scott and I to see it. It's not news...but there's still such a finality in seeing his grave marker, all that it represents, and all that we're missing. I need the scriptues and the spirit and prayer in my life MORE on days like that, but I neglected them, and I can tell by my crankiness.
ALSO, I promised I'd share a picture of Gideon's grave marker, and it's finally here. This grave marker is bigger than he was (he was tiny). I find myself out of words when I see it, it is heavy in more ways than one....so I'll just leave its picture at the end.
That's not what I intended to blog about today, though.
I have teased people about borrowing my children when they need to understand their scriptures. Not because my children know and understand so much, but because they aren't afraid to stop and ask questions. If we read a word or phrase they (or we) don't understand, instead of skipping past it, we talk about it, guess at its meaning, and seek for ways to understand it. Often, as we attempt to understand things and spend a little time pondering, our minds and hearts open up, and we gain insights. I understand my scriptures way better as I read them to and with my children. (Says the Mom who is going on 3 nights in a row of skipping family scripture study because it got too late and the kids need sleep--and so do I.)
On one of these "break it down" moments, as we talked about hard hearts, I stumbled upon a great metaphor for life. Our hearts are like playdoh, and God is the creator. He's trying to shape us, to create some awesome stuff. Playdoh is perfect right out of the box, but just from being out in the world, it starts to dry up, just as we tend to become more tough and hardened by the world. This is easily remedied with a few drops of water after playing with it--and as we make sure we partake of daily living water (scripture study/prayer/spiritual experiences), we keep our hearts soft and easily shaped. Another way to keep playdoh in good shape is to make sure it's container (it's home) is sealed well (a holy place where the world can't get in and dry it all up.) Occasionally, the playdoh gets quite dry, and it takes more water to help it be able to be used. And sometimes, it's just so hard, there's not much to be done besides start over with new playdoh. Hard playdoh can't be shaped--it MUST be softened before anything can be done with it.
Several times in 1 Nephi, Nephi explains about his brothers' hard hearts. It makes sense that no matter the amazing tools the Lord was using to try and shape their lives (Liahona, seeing an angel, witnessing miracles, a father who was a prophet), nothing worked. Their playdoh needed to be softened first. And occasionally, they did add water, the spirit touched them. They just never maintained the habit of adding living water, so their hearts dried right back up again.
This is a cautionary tale for me as much as anyone. I noticed today (after a few days in a row of falling short on my scripture study) that I have a very testy temper, I feel not like my best, most patient self. Once I realized that I am not being as nice as usual, I started thinking about what I needed to do to fix it. Sleep would help, but I've been running on lack of sleep for many weeks now, and I knew that wasn't the only culprit. I tried to remember how many days it has been since I did good scripture study, and it's been a few (less than a week, but several days) and my prayers have been more sporadic and not as deep (again--tiredness taking its toll). I remembered about the playdoh, and I know I need to do better, to get myself back where I want to be, where the Lord can shape me and help me be what he knows i can become. I need to do better about adding living water into my life each day, more so now, with the tiredness than before.
Another part of the parable that applies particularly right now is that playdoh dries out faster in different temperatures/climates than others. Heat/dry air will definitely take a toll faster than cold/wet air. Some days are harder on our spirits than others. Gideon's grave marker finally was put in at his grave site, and it was hard for both Scott and I to see it. It's not news...but there's still such a finality in seeing his grave marker, all that it represents, and all that we're missing. I need the scriptues and the spirit and prayer in my life MORE on days like that, but I neglected them, and I can tell by my crankiness.
ALSO, I promised I'd share a picture of Gideon's grave marker, and it's finally here. This grave marker is bigger than he was (he was tiny). I find myself out of words when I see it, it is heavy in more ways than one....so I'll just leave its picture at the end.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Two roads diverged...and my life now
Yesterday, as I was going through our poetry unit with Ethan, we had a discussion about Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken", which caused me to stop and ponder. Ethan didn't know what hit him as I had a good cry while we discussed choices and memories and looking back.
I'm pretty sure that if you are my friend, you have read this poem. BUT--for those of you who still want to be my friend and have not read it...it is here for your reading enjoyment, and for a broadening of your horizons, and a deepening of your soul.
I'm pretty sure that if you are my friend, you have read this poem. BUT--for those of you who still want to be my friend and have not read it...it is here for your reading enjoyment, and for a broadening of your horizons, and a deepening of your soul.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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| I particularly thought about the moment when the doctors told us that Gideon's condition was most likely lethal, and when they asked if we wanted to permanently prevent having children in the future. I had four healthy children, and the chances of us having another child with the same problems as Gideon were higher than other couples. I considered it, I contemplated taking that road.... I looked at my two choices, down each road "as far as I could". Both roads looked fair, but which path was the one I truly wanted? I decided the road of "being done" was not the road I wanted to go down, even though it is a road MANY people would travel. And it's NOT a bad road to travel, I am not judging anyone who would have chosen differently than I did. For me, though, it was not the path I wanted to take. We all have to follow different paths. As Miriam celebrates one month, I think of the difference I am seeing in my life already. I think of the weight I carried during pregnancy (and I'm not talking about the pounds/kilos), but the worry. It was a hard pregnancy emotionally, and there were times I wondered if I had chosen the right path. I knew that I had felt strongly about the path I chose, and I had to trust in those feelings as doubt and worry crept in. Now I can see the way my children adore their sister, the way her presence encourages peace and happiness in our home. It feels like it has been "ages and ages" and looking back, as hindsight lends depth to my ability to understand, I can understand why this road was the right road for me, and I'm grateful I trusted that feeling. It is only one of many paths I have chosen when presented with "two roads" literally and figuratively. When our family goes to visit National Parks, we carefully consider which hikes we'll take, how far we can go, and what we want to see. We've seen and experienced so many glorious things, no matter which paths we choose, but I've rarely started a hike and regretted it. (Only once that I can think of, every other time I've been so pleased at all I have seen and experienced.) No matter which path, which hike, there are beautiful things to experience, and I'm grateful for the paths I have taken, even though sometimes I look back and wonder what the "other roads" may have led to.
Life is good. Today, I enjoyed the scent of baking cinnamon rolls as I also felt the crisp and cool cleanness of a sky fresh from rain, and I was so grateful for life, for the senses I have to experience life with. I enjoyed snuggling my baby, I enjoyed reading to my 4 year old, and laughing with him. I treasured the delight of my 7 year old as she discovered that the tooth fairy had come for her first tooth, and I enjoyed the expression on her 10 year old brother's face, as he tried not to spoil the secret for her. My 12 year old is such a confident kid, and even though beginning an instrument has it's "ugly" sounds, as I listened to him practice today, I could absolutely hear the difference in his skills compared to a month ago. I think he can hear it too, and is excited for his own growth and improvement. I love watching my children experience life, and I particularly adore watching them enjoy their new sister, they are so eager to help and to hold her. I--I took the one less traveled by, and it has made all the difference.  |
Monday, September 7, 2015
I've had worse
Lots of people ask how I'm doing, and how the baby is doing. I feel fabulous, my body is recovering well, I'm having to remind myself not to push too hard, because I feel just fine. I am sleep deprived, and that makes me feel forgetful and a little headachy. In the past, I've told people how horrible the first few months can be at times. Don't get me wrong...snuggling a new baby is an amazing feeling, and I love it, but that zombie-like stupor that settles over me as I continue to run on not enough sleep...it's awful. It makes it hard to be patient, to think clearly, to function, to even feel like myself. HOWEVER, I've had a healthy dose of perspective, and so if you ask how I'm doing, I'm still going to tell you that I'm doing great (or awesome or fantastic), and it's true. Last year, in August and September, I'd wake up feeling sad, overwhelmed, confused, lost, missing my baby, wondering if there was anything else I could have done. This year in August and September, I wake up feeling like my brain has magically been replaced by oatmeal, responding to a baby who is crying because she needs something, but I am so grateful to have a reason to wake up groggy. I'm grateful she's here, that she is healthy and wants to eat, that she can pee (YAY for functioning kidneys) and poop (YAY for functioning digestive system) and cry (YAY that her lungs are developed well!!) I've had worse...so much worse, and so I'm grateful for the tired.
I've had several ideas for blog posts over the last few weeks, but lets face it...when you're exhausted, sleep becomes a much higher priority than many other things. Showering has taken a back seat some days. Make up and fancy hair have never been a high priority for me, but even less so at this point. I am at the point where I will pretty much say "yes" to anyone who offers help, (THANKS to those who have helped clean up, bring in meals, shuttle my kids around for me!!) even though I like to be independent and do everything myself. My normal "2 hour" screen time limit for my 4 year old has been completely ignored on several days as I've tried to catch up on sleep. But I've had worse. I'll take it.
Miriam has been a very wonderful healing balm for my heart and Scott's. Holding her brings a peace and contentment that I have missed over the last 14 months.
We still miss Gideon immensely, sometimes more so because of the special moments we are sharing with our new daughter. We love seeing her smile in her sleep...and wonder what his smile would have looked like. She has lots of hair, like he did, I often look at her and see a resemblance to her big brother, which pulls on my heart strings. However, I feel confident that he sent her with hugs and snuggles to share (just like when you visit your Grandma and she says "Give so and so a hug from me" and when you see them, you pass on Grandma's hug). I'm sure that he wanted her to give us his love, and that he wanted us to feel comfort both from her and from him. I feel so much peace and joy and love radiating from her. Even when I'm utterly exhausted, I love looking down and seeing her in my arms.
So 3 weeks in, we're tired, but loving it!
I've had several ideas for blog posts over the last few weeks, but lets face it...when you're exhausted, sleep becomes a much higher priority than many other things. Showering has taken a back seat some days. Make up and fancy hair have never been a high priority for me, but even less so at this point. I am at the point where I will pretty much say "yes" to anyone who offers help, (THANKS to those who have helped clean up, bring in meals, shuttle my kids around for me!!) even though I like to be independent and do everything myself. My normal "2 hour" screen time limit for my 4 year old has been completely ignored on several days as I've tried to catch up on sleep. But I've had worse. I'll take it.
Miriam has been a very wonderful healing balm for my heart and Scott's. Holding her brings a peace and contentment that I have missed over the last 14 months.
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| My view of a dozy Miriam snuggle. |
So 3 weeks in, we're tired, but loving it!
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Living my dream
Much of life goes by in a blur, the day to day activities that melt into years flying by sometimes create a fog and haze that are hard to see through clearly. Since Gideon's life and death, I have sought to live a life that is more focused, less smeared by the doldrums of daily life. I have set aside special moments and special days to celebrate life and family and love, and happiness, and I have been so grateful for the clarity that I feel on these days. I still get caught up in every day life--there are dishes to be done, food to be cooked, I still have to use the restroom and do laundry and clean, but I am trying to take and make time to help more of my time be less mundane. Some of that is taking a step back and asking myself, am I doing what I really want to be doing with my life? Long term, am I on track with the dream I have for myself? It makes the everyday steps part of something more amazing. There are also ways to make mundane things less mundane (turn fun music on while you clean--my husband LOVES to do this, and I agree, it's more fun that way.)
Last night, we added a daughter to our family. Special days like these are NOT part of the doldrums of every day life, and there are so many focused and beautiful moments that I've been able to experience in the last 24 hours. Miriam is a tiny little peanut, and we adore her. One focused moment I will remember with great clarity is the moment she began to cry. So did I. So did Scott. We never heard our Gideon cry. This moment, I tasted a new flavor, a new dimension in our birth experience. We miss our Gideon, we wish we would have had those moments with him, and it made us sad. Because we know what we are missing, we are so much more grateful for the chance to hear our baby cry, to hold her and snuggle her, to feel her squiggle and move, to not have to pass her off to the NICU right away. We both experienced these feelings of sadness and overwhelming gratitude as we heard her cry. (Don't get me wrong, NICU doctors and nurses are amazing, but it was a treasure to be handed my baby seconds after delivering her.)
Our 10 year old noticed how we were able to have so many more quiet and calm moments with Miriam. With Gideon, there were machines and monitors all over, and so there was a lot of background noise, as well as a nurse who HAD to be there to monitor him. Watching my children be able to hold and gather around their sister, to touch her without worry that her breathing would stop or her body would hurt too badly was such a blessing, and a moment I will treasure. I treasure the way each one reacted to her, from tears, to smiles, to stares, to laughs, to eager hands that wanted to hold her, to the suggestion that we sing to her, because our Gideon loved music and so Miriam probably will too.
Last night, we added a daughter to our family. Special days like these are NOT part of the doldrums of every day life, and there are so many focused and beautiful moments that I've been able to experience in the last 24 hours. Miriam is a tiny little peanut, and we adore her. One focused moment I will remember with great clarity is the moment she began to cry. So did I. So did Scott. We never heard our Gideon cry. This moment, I tasted a new flavor, a new dimension in our birth experience. We miss our Gideon, we wish we would have had those moments with him, and it made us sad. Because we know what we are missing, we are so much more grateful for the chance to hear our baby cry, to hold her and snuggle her, to feel her squiggle and move, to not have to pass her off to the NICU right away. We both experienced these feelings of sadness and overwhelming gratitude as we heard her cry. (Don't get me wrong, NICU doctors and nurses are amazing, but it was a treasure to be handed my baby seconds after delivering her.)
Our 10 year old noticed how we were able to have so many more quiet and calm moments with Miriam. With Gideon, there were machines and monitors all over, and so there was a lot of background noise, as well as a nurse who HAD to be there to monitor him. Watching my children be able to hold and gather around their sister, to touch her without worry that her breathing would stop or her body would hurt too badly was such a blessing, and a moment I will treasure. I treasure the way each one reacted to her, from tears, to smiles, to stares, to laughs, to eager hands that wanted to hold her, to the suggestion that we sing to her, because our Gideon loved music and so Miriam probably will too.
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| Daddy and his girls |
My husband does not love his tender heart, (I'm pretty sure it makes him feel not very manly) but I adore it, and consider it a gift he has been blessed with. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, and it continually blesses my life. I fall back in love with him as I watch him hold our babies, help our children learn and grow, melt when our daughter smiles at him sweetly, and understand my grief when I mourn for the baby we don't have with us. He is a good man with a good heart. As part of every day life and marriage to another human being, we have our differences, and they sometimes bother either one of us, but in my moments of "clarity" I'm so in love with his tender heart. I got to fall in love with him again yesterday and today as I watched all of these beautiful moments happen. It was a special day.
I have been able to take time to just think about my blessings. I don't always take time to do this, but it is so good for the soul, and I highly recommend it. I missed attending church today, but took a little extra time to consider the gifts I don't always take time to think of: the ability to breathe deeply, time with my family, medical sciences, the human ability to repair itself, nature's magical ability (or God given ability--depending on your views) to reproduce. the way warm blankets or hugs can soothe and comfort a body to name a few that I thought of today. I thought about the strengths and weaknesses of each of the members in my family, and how they interact and how we're a team and helping each other to become more amazing.. I have so many loved friends and family who I got to send texts/emails out to, and while it was a lengthy list, I consider myself so blessed to know there are so many people who I can rely on, who love me and want to know what is happening in my life, and the ability to use technology to send pictures and information almost instantly is so awesome! 
I am NOT a real huge fan of the song "Everything is Awesome" from the Lego movie, some of the harmonies grate at my nerves and seem very randomly chosen, and some of the repetition bugs me, but some of my kids like it, and the words to the chorus are so true. "Everything is awesome, everything is cool when you're part of a team, everything is awesome when we're living our dream." I am living my dream. I always wanted to be a mom. I always wanted to teach people. I love nurturing, discovering, learning. I enjoy nature. I am living all of these dreams, by being a mother, being part of a wonderful family team, and team of people working for the success of my children, I have a garden, I get to be part of creating almost every single day. Is this what I want to be doing? YES! I hope that everyone who reads this takes a minute to think about A.) whether you are living your dream and B.) some blessings you don't always think about. Hopefully it will help you feel pretty awesome about life!
Welcome to life, little one!!
Friday, August 14, 2015
Full term
I am 37 weeks along today. We are so excited to have made it to what is considered full term; we were told that we had higher than normal chances of having a premature baby, and now that worry is gone. I am still paranoid, if I don't feel this baby move for a long while, I reach down and shift her around until she twitches or pulls back. This poor kid probably won't have any type of sleep pattern, because I won't leave her alone, but I just can't help it. Oh well...I won't have much sleep pattern going on either pretty soon.
We're all hoping and praying for a healthy little one, and our 10 year old has said "We need to remember to thank God for the privilege of being able to have this baby." Yep. I'm anxious to get her here, though trying to be patient through these last few uncomfortable weeks. We're excitedly getting ready for a new school year, and all the new adventures that will come with both school and with a new baby.
We feel so much love and support, and I'm so grateful that so many people are excited with us, even though this is our 6th baby. It's a lot, even I think I'm nuts (I HATE being pregnant, but I love being a mom), but we appreciate those who are willing to celebrate this sweet little baby with us as we get ready to welcome her into our lives. Any day now....
We're all hoping and praying for a healthy little one, and our 10 year old has said "We need to remember to thank God for the privilege of being able to have this baby." Yep. I'm anxious to get her here, though trying to be patient through these last few uncomfortable weeks. We're excitedly getting ready for a new school year, and all the new adventures that will come with both school and with a new baby.
We feel so much love and support, and I'm so grateful that so many people are excited with us, even though this is our 6th baby. It's a lot, even I think I'm nuts (I HATE being pregnant, but I love being a mom), but we appreciate those who are willing to celebrate this sweet little baby with us as we get ready to welcome her into our lives. Any day now....
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness: things I'm learning
It has been a year since we buried Gideon. There were so many moments on the day of his funeral that I can't even describe in words: I remember how very hard it was to help them close and seal the casket lid, feeling like I was sealing off and shutting down a piece of my heart that wouldn't really ever die. I remember laughing through all the pain when my (then 3 year old) son said "This is the best day ever" because we were able to ride in a limo and feeling grateful for his innocence and presence. I will never forget feeling grateful and overwhelmed with so much love and support from so many friends and family members. It was a wonderful and awful day.
Over the last few weeks, we've passed several milestones, his birthday, his "deathday", and now the anniversary for the day of his funeral, and I've thought about this journey that our family is on and what we've learned in the last year. It's a little odd, but my thoughts have taken a direction I didn't really expect.
Our amazing and diverse world is so full of many different people. I feel very blessed to have so many friends and family who feel very differently about many of the issues that are very "hot topics" and are quite contraversial nowadays. I hope, and I think that all of those who I am friends with are able to see my opinion and respect why I might have them, even if mine differ from theirs. It seems to me that being able to agree to disagree has become more important in my life over the last year. I've thought a lot about why this is...it has taken some soul searching, and this is what I've discovered.
Time and relationships are precious, people and life are precious, and I see that with a clarity I didn't have before. I do not believe that there are many disagreements in the world worth insulting another person, or that relationships should be severed because of differing opinions. Based on what I see and experience, especially in the last year, I believe that the art of "agreeing to disagree" is dying. People are going crazy insulting each other, threatening each other, and there is a huge lack of empathy or understanding which is becoming more and more prevalent. It makes me sadder now than it ever did before, because I feel like we are casting aside the most important things: respect, life, relationships, people's rights to their opinions--and for what? Why?
The point of this blog has been for me to find words to express my thoughts and feelings, to share with those who care enough to listen, and to help and inspire anyone else who may be on their own difficult journey. I often feel compelled to share my thoughts and feelings with the hope and desire that they will help someone somewhere. I have usually tried to choose my words carefully, words are powerful. In taking time to choose words, I have gained a new level of respect for the founding fathers of my country, who took time to write the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. They were gifted with some amazing abilities with words, and over the last year, I have gained a new reverence and respect for the words they chose and the time and consideration that must have gone into these important documents. While I believe many of the leaders pushing for independence in the U.S. were hot-headed, I also have a great deal of respect for the fire they carried that birthed the idea for a great nation. My thoughts keep coming back to this statement, which I admire more than I know how to say: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
This statement, found in the Declaration of Independence is actually something that I think all liberals and conservatives agree upon. Why do people feel the way they do about gay marriage? Some feel strongly that the Creator knows best a plan for our happiness, and he set up marriage between man and woman, and it shouldn't be changed, because He knows best. Some feel strongly that no matter one's sexual preference, they should have the right to pursue happiness and a life with whomever they choose. But regardless, we believe that all men are created equal, and that they have rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Yes, I care who the president will be, and I would love it if everyone in our nation would feel similarly to me about what is best for the country, BUT the bottom line is: people who are voting care about our nation, and are choosing based on their interpretation of that statement. AND once the president has been chosen, even if it wasn't "my candidate", I believe that they have now been selected as the leader of my country, and as such, they deserve respect, even if I don't agree with the way they want to do things. Yes, I wish everyone agreed with my opinion about abortion, but we all don't, partly because different people feel like life begins at different points, but the bottom line is, no matter where people stand on that issue, they value life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Yes, I would love it if everyone would view gun control the same way as I do, but the bottom line is, most people feel the way they do because they value life. Funny....we sit on different sides of the issues, but what we have in common is a desire to see life be better, we just have different ideas about the way it should happen.
As I have thought about my last year, I have felt that really, what would help everyone heal is more love and kindness and understanding in the world, more respect, even when people see things differently. I am so much more bothered now by people's intolerance of each other than I ever was before my son was born and died. I have no idea why his life and death brought this change to me, but my heart is more tender, and I realize that many other people may be experiencing tender and difficult moments in their lives too. Everyone everywhere has horrible things happen to them, that's a sad part of life and the world, and as we are all going through hard things, we need to be kinder. Really, "what the world needs now is love, sweet love. It's the only thing that there's just too little of."
I am not naive enough to believe that the world is 100% full of people who have strong moral compasses, that 100% have clung to their ability to value life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, but I do have enough faith and hope in the world to feel that perhaps 99.5% of us do. Most of us still value the God given right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, but we're making choices and choosing sides based on our interpretation of those fundamental truths, and we shouldn't belittle or insult others whose interpretations and life experiences have led them to believe differently than we do. I have friends who have seen a dear one shot, and consequently, they believe guns don't belong in people's hands. I have friends who have had their homes broken into in the night, and they believe that guns in the right hands protect them from the guns in the wrong hands. And I'm not going to belittle either of their experiences by telling them "You're wrong" or worse by calling them stupid or unintelligent. They are my friends, I love them, I am grateful for the perspective that they lend to my life, and I believe they both want what they feel is best for the world, to give everyone the opportunity to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
To my own friends and family, if you want to remember and celebrate Gideon's life with me: be kinder, show more respect to others, understand that the people around you are seeking the same things as you are, but choosing a different way to do it. Don't toss relationships aside because of differences in opinion. Love your family and friends a little more, and criticize a little less. Fill the world with love and understanding. I don't know how Gideon taught me so much without ever being able to speak a word in such a short little life, but somehow all of these things have come into more focus in my life, and by sharing them, I can help his life make a bigger difference in the world. As you go about your day, remember that mostly we all want the same things: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Over the last few weeks, we've passed several milestones, his birthday, his "deathday", and now the anniversary for the day of his funeral, and I've thought about this journey that our family is on and what we've learned in the last year. It's a little odd, but my thoughts have taken a direction I didn't really expect.
Our amazing and diverse world is so full of many different people. I feel very blessed to have so many friends and family who feel very differently about many of the issues that are very "hot topics" and are quite contraversial nowadays. I hope, and I think that all of those who I am friends with are able to see my opinion and respect why I might have them, even if mine differ from theirs. It seems to me that being able to agree to disagree has become more important in my life over the last year. I've thought a lot about why this is...it has taken some soul searching, and this is what I've discovered.
Time and relationships are precious, people and life are precious, and I see that with a clarity I didn't have before. I do not believe that there are many disagreements in the world worth insulting another person, or that relationships should be severed because of differing opinions. Based on what I see and experience, especially in the last year, I believe that the art of "agreeing to disagree" is dying. People are going crazy insulting each other, threatening each other, and there is a huge lack of empathy or understanding which is becoming more and more prevalent. It makes me sadder now than it ever did before, because I feel like we are casting aside the most important things: respect, life, relationships, people's rights to their opinions--and for what? Why?
The point of this blog has been for me to find words to express my thoughts and feelings, to share with those who care enough to listen, and to help and inspire anyone else who may be on their own difficult journey. I often feel compelled to share my thoughts and feelings with the hope and desire that they will help someone somewhere. I have usually tried to choose my words carefully, words are powerful. In taking time to choose words, I have gained a new level of respect for the founding fathers of my country, who took time to write the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. They were gifted with some amazing abilities with words, and over the last year, I have gained a new reverence and respect for the words they chose and the time and consideration that must have gone into these important documents. While I believe many of the leaders pushing for independence in the U.S. were hot-headed, I also have a great deal of respect for the fire they carried that birthed the idea for a great nation. My thoughts keep coming back to this statement, which I admire more than I know how to say: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
This statement, found in the Declaration of Independence is actually something that I think all liberals and conservatives agree upon. Why do people feel the way they do about gay marriage? Some feel strongly that the Creator knows best a plan for our happiness, and he set up marriage between man and woman, and it shouldn't be changed, because He knows best. Some feel strongly that no matter one's sexual preference, they should have the right to pursue happiness and a life with whomever they choose. But regardless, we believe that all men are created equal, and that they have rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Yes, I care who the president will be, and I would love it if everyone in our nation would feel similarly to me about what is best for the country, BUT the bottom line is: people who are voting care about our nation, and are choosing based on their interpretation of that statement. AND once the president has been chosen, even if it wasn't "my candidate", I believe that they have now been selected as the leader of my country, and as such, they deserve respect, even if I don't agree with the way they want to do things. Yes, I wish everyone agreed with my opinion about abortion, but we all don't, partly because different people feel like life begins at different points, but the bottom line is, no matter where people stand on that issue, they value life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Yes, I would love it if everyone would view gun control the same way as I do, but the bottom line is, most people feel the way they do because they value life. Funny....we sit on different sides of the issues, but what we have in common is a desire to see life be better, we just have different ideas about the way it should happen.
As I have thought about my last year, I have felt that really, what would help everyone heal is more love and kindness and understanding in the world, more respect, even when people see things differently. I am so much more bothered now by people's intolerance of each other than I ever was before my son was born and died. I have no idea why his life and death brought this change to me, but my heart is more tender, and I realize that many other people may be experiencing tender and difficult moments in their lives too. Everyone everywhere has horrible things happen to them, that's a sad part of life and the world, and as we are all going through hard things, we need to be kinder. Really, "what the world needs now is love, sweet love. It's the only thing that there's just too little of."
I am not naive enough to believe that the world is 100% full of people who have strong moral compasses, that 100% have clung to their ability to value life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, but I do have enough faith and hope in the world to feel that perhaps 99.5% of us do. Most of us still value the God given right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, but we're making choices and choosing sides based on our interpretation of those fundamental truths, and we shouldn't belittle or insult others whose interpretations and life experiences have led them to believe differently than we do. I have friends who have seen a dear one shot, and consequently, they believe guns don't belong in people's hands. I have friends who have had their homes broken into in the night, and they believe that guns in the right hands protect them from the guns in the wrong hands. And I'm not going to belittle either of their experiences by telling them "You're wrong" or worse by calling them stupid or unintelligent. They are my friends, I love them, I am grateful for the perspective that they lend to my life, and I believe they both want what they feel is best for the world, to give everyone the opportunity to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
To my own friends and family, if you want to remember and celebrate Gideon's life with me: be kinder, show more respect to others, understand that the people around you are seeking the same things as you are, but choosing a different way to do it. Don't toss relationships aside because of differences in opinion. Love your family and friends a little more, and criticize a little less. Fill the world with love and understanding. I don't know how Gideon taught me so much without ever being able to speak a word in such a short little life, but somehow all of these things have come into more focus in my life, and by sharing them, I can help his life make a bigger difference in the world. As you go about your day, remember that mostly we all want the same things: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
No words
On July 22, last year, I went in for an ultrasound to check on Gideon. We knew his condition had worsened, but we didn't know how bad it was. They told us that our son's condition was possibly lethal, and admitted me to the hospital (completely unprepared). On July 25, he was born, and they began to work on doing what they could to help fix his little body. This is a picture from later that day, after they stabilized him. Today is Gideon's birthday.
On the 26th, they transferred him to Primary Children's hospital, where he could have surgery and the highly specialized doctors he needed. Days later, our nurses and doctors told us that our son was not going to make it. I remember looking at them, trying not to yell, scream, or cry and ruin the atmosphere of a NICU with fragile, sleeping babies, and all I could say was "I have no words." That was the first day I was able to hold him, and I had no idea how many opportunities I'd get after that day. They knew he was already in trouble, so they figured it was worth the risk to let me hold him, in case his condition worsened or he just simply didn't make it one night.
I typically don't suffer from a lack of things to say. I have been an opinionated know-it-all for most of my life, and am a very social creature. I tend to be optimistic, and sometimes more jovial or sarcastic than a situation calls for. In that moment, though, I was so overwhelmed, so unsure of myself and my world, I had no idea how to proceed, least of all what to say.
Thankfully, Gideon's neonatologist seemed to understand. He told me that it was OK not to know what to say.
There have been many moments since then when I have worked hard to find words to express what is going on in my heart and mind, and I have found that putting it into words does sometimes help. Sometimes, though, there are no words. As we approach Gideon's birthday, I have felt that way. How do you celebrate a child that has broken your heart? How do you reach out to someone who isn't here? What do you say when your heart is thankful to have known someone, but hurts for all the moments you missed out on getting to know them better?
I can say Happy Birthday, but it's so heavy. I wish I was saying it to him, watching him destroy his birthday cake with reckless abandon and make a huge mess. I miss all the things I wish his birthday would have brought. I cut flowers from my yard today and we went to Gideon's grave and sang "Happy Birthday", leaving him the flowers. It was very hard.
I can say "thank you" because I am a better human being after Gideon came into my life. My heart is more tender, my mind more open, my life more focused on the things that matter most. It's hard to feel grateful when I miss him so much. I love him even though I barely knew him, I miss all the moments I haven't gotten to have with him this year. I am thankful for the short week we did get to have with him, that my children got to meet their tiny brother. And I'm thankful to so many friends and family who have been understanding, who helped when we needed it, who supported us in many ways.
Today was a day where I found myself without words quite often. Even when my husband asked "How are you?" I didn't know how to respond, and said "OK". It was up and down. I know some people have told me that they didn't know what to say to me after Gideon died. I truly understand. There are moments when words just can't...they just can't...
On the 26th, they transferred him to Primary Children's hospital, where he could have surgery and the highly specialized doctors he needed. Days later, our nurses and doctors told us that our son was not going to make it. I remember looking at them, trying not to yell, scream, or cry and ruin the atmosphere of a NICU with fragile, sleeping babies, and all I could say was "I have no words." That was the first day I was able to hold him, and I had no idea how many opportunities I'd get after that day. They knew he was already in trouble, so they figured it was worth the risk to let me hold him, in case his condition worsened or he just simply didn't make it one night.
I typically don't suffer from a lack of things to say. I have been an opinionated know-it-all for most of my life, and am a very social creature. I tend to be optimistic, and sometimes more jovial or sarcastic than a situation calls for. In that moment, though, I was so overwhelmed, so unsure of myself and my world, I had no idea how to proceed, least of all what to say.
Thankfully, Gideon's neonatologist seemed to understand. He told me that it was OK not to know what to say.
There have been many moments since then when I have worked hard to find words to express what is going on in my heart and mind, and I have found that putting it into words does sometimes help. Sometimes, though, there are no words. As we approach Gideon's birthday, I have felt that way. How do you celebrate a child that has broken your heart? How do you reach out to someone who isn't here? What do you say when your heart is thankful to have known someone, but hurts for all the moments you missed out on getting to know them better?
I can say Happy Birthday, but it's so heavy. I wish I was saying it to him, watching him destroy his birthday cake with reckless abandon and make a huge mess. I miss all the things I wish his birthday would have brought. I cut flowers from my yard today and we went to Gideon's grave and sang "Happy Birthday", leaving him the flowers. It was very hard.
I can say "thank you" because I am a better human being after Gideon came into my life. My heart is more tender, my mind more open, my life more focused on the things that matter most. It's hard to feel grateful when I miss him so much. I love him even though I barely knew him, I miss all the moments I haven't gotten to have with him this year. I am thankful for the short week we did get to have with him, that my children got to meet their tiny brother. And I'm thankful to so many friends and family who have been understanding, who helped when we needed it, who supported us in many ways.
Today was a day where I found myself without words quite often. Even when my husband asked "How are you?" I didn't know how to respond, and said "OK". It was up and down. I know some people have told me that they didn't know what to say to me after Gideon died. I truly understand. There are moments when words just can't...they just can't...
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Love at first sight
I detest the story "Romeo and Juliet". While I believe two people can connect almost instantly, whenever I read it, I am bothered by instant teenage crushes and drama and family tensions that shouldn't be, and I just dislike the whole thing. I think there is much to be learned from the mistakes made by many of the parties within the story. It makes me crazy when people think they are like Romeo and Juliet--they clearly have no idea what REALLY goes on in the story. Perhaps part of my irritation with it is that I don't believe in love at first sight.
At least, I didn't believe in "love at first sight" until I became a mom to my second child. Not that I don't love my first child, but the instant connection wasn't really there the first time around. It was so surreal, so bizarre to be handed this child and make the transition between "my life" and "our life". The first one blindsided me. I had wanted to be a mother my entire life, but I still wasn't actually prepared for being a mother. I am not sure anything can fully prepare you for the experience, besides just having it.
It used to be so easy to go places, it used to be quiet, the messes I cleaned up used to be just my own. I used to not have people follow me into the bathroom, answer the phone incorrectly, interrupt my conversations, and wake me up in the middle of the night with scary dreams or sick tummies. I also used to not get to watch the magic of playing in the water, experience the excitement of discovering a new ability to roll over, laugh, crawl, walk, run, jump. It used to be that I was missing out on hilarious moments where they say things the way they understand them. I love watching my children learn, laugh, and live.
So after I had the experience of being a mother for a few years, and then I had a second child, I loved him immediately. I knew some of what to expect, I knew it would be incredibly challenging, but I knew how many moments I'd get to have and treasure with him. Each child after was the same story....love at first sight. I held them and knew what treasures they contained, I loved the potential for getting to know them, the wondering what their eye color and hair color would be, what would make them laugh, all the adventures we'd have together.
Each successive child has come with a huge dose of love at first sight. It has even begun to happen earlier and earlier, and I have caught myself crying at the sound of fetal heartbeats with my last few children. I love them from that early on. This has been a wonderful blessing, but it has also been terrible since Gideon died. My son was pretty much a complete stranger to me, but I love him so much. I have discovered that grief comes not just because of missing all we did get to have with those we loved, but also missing the things we DIDN'T get to have when they left. Lost potential, lost chances, those are some of the things that break my heart the most.
Knowing that God has a plan that includes second chances has eased that aspect. I know I'll get to see him again, and that makes it not as painful. It is still very hard now, because he's not here with me, but I trust that I will get to know him, get to watch him laugh, crawl, walk, run, jump and say funny things, and that helps a little bit. I still want to hold him. I have missed him over the last several months, wondering how he'd have enjoyed snow, spring, fireworks, playing in the grass, eating new foods. I am grateful to love him so much, grateful for that "love at first sight" that bonded me to him so early, but my heart misses all the moments that I'm not having with him.
I don't know how it feels to be God, but I do wonder if He loves us in that "love at first sight" way: he loves our potential. He knows that each of us will come with new our own set of learning and challenges, funny things we'll say and do, odd quirks, our own unique sense of humor, and He is probably excited to watch us learn, grow, and discover. I imagine He is so saddened when people throw away their potential, ruin the chance at wonderful moments they might have had. I hope to not break his heart, and to help all of my family members do the same--reach that amazing potential they have somewhere inside.
Extra hugs are in order tonight, anyone who wants can join me in giving their loved ones an extra dose of "I love you" in whatever way is most meaningful to them. I'm grateful to have so many loved ones still here with me, and I hope they know it, and I hope Gideon knows he is loved too.
At least, I didn't believe in "love at first sight" until I became a mom to my second child. Not that I don't love my first child, but the instant connection wasn't really there the first time around. It was so surreal, so bizarre to be handed this child and make the transition between "my life" and "our life". The first one blindsided me. I had wanted to be a mother my entire life, but I still wasn't actually prepared for being a mother. I am not sure anything can fully prepare you for the experience, besides just having it.
It used to be so easy to go places, it used to be quiet, the messes I cleaned up used to be just my own. I used to not have people follow me into the bathroom, answer the phone incorrectly, interrupt my conversations, and wake me up in the middle of the night with scary dreams or sick tummies. I also used to not get to watch the magic of playing in the water, experience the excitement of discovering a new ability to roll over, laugh, crawl, walk, run, jump. It used to be that I was missing out on hilarious moments where they say things the way they understand them. I love watching my children learn, laugh, and live.
So after I had the experience of being a mother for a few years, and then I had a second child, I loved him immediately. I knew some of what to expect, I knew it would be incredibly challenging, but I knew how many moments I'd get to have and treasure with him. Each child after was the same story....love at first sight. I held them and knew what treasures they contained, I loved the potential for getting to know them, the wondering what their eye color and hair color would be, what would make them laugh, all the adventures we'd have together.
Each successive child has come with a huge dose of love at first sight. It has even begun to happen earlier and earlier, and I have caught myself crying at the sound of fetal heartbeats with my last few children. I love them from that early on. This has been a wonderful blessing, but it has also been terrible since Gideon died. My son was pretty much a complete stranger to me, but I love him so much. I have discovered that grief comes not just because of missing all we did get to have with those we loved, but also missing the things we DIDN'T get to have when they left. Lost potential, lost chances, those are some of the things that break my heart the most.
Knowing that God has a plan that includes second chances has eased that aspect. I know I'll get to see him again, and that makes it not as painful. It is still very hard now, because he's not here with me, but I trust that I will get to know him, get to watch him laugh, crawl, walk, run, jump and say funny things, and that helps a little bit. I still want to hold him. I have missed him over the last several months, wondering how he'd have enjoyed snow, spring, fireworks, playing in the grass, eating new foods. I am grateful to love him so much, grateful for that "love at first sight" that bonded me to him so early, but my heart misses all the moments that I'm not having with him.
I don't know how it feels to be God, but I do wonder if He loves us in that "love at first sight" way: he loves our potential. He knows that each of us will come with new our own set of learning and challenges, funny things we'll say and do, odd quirks, our own unique sense of humor, and He is probably excited to watch us learn, grow, and discover. I imagine He is so saddened when people throw away their potential, ruin the chance at wonderful moments they might have had. I hope to not break his heart, and to help all of my family members do the same--reach that amazing potential they have somewhere inside.
Extra hugs are in order tonight, anyone who wants can join me in giving their loved ones an extra dose of "I love you" in whatever way is most meaningful to them. I'm grateful to have so many loved ones still here with me, and I hope they know it, and I hope Gideon knows he is loved too.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Smooch powers
I have a thing with X-men and really with all super heroes. I love the idea of people with super human abilities, and I wish I had a few, or at least one really good one (NOT mind reading, that would be horrific). My sister and I had a funny discussion once about our sibling group and what our super hero abilities would or could be. I was already a mommy, and (among other things) she suggested that my kisses really could have healing power, just like my kids think they do.
Last night in the middle of the night, my 4 year old stumbled into my room, and first over to my husband's side of the bed. "Oops" he said, and then padded his way over to me. "Smooch?" he questioned, and I gave him a little kiss and off he went back to bed. I'm not sure why he needed a kiss in the middle of the night, but I'm glad that last night, I had super power kisses that helped my son to sleep.
I wish my super hero kisses would have been enough to fix Gideon. I wish my little man's sincere kisses would have been enough to heal Gideon. I wish we could do "Kiss o war" like I do with my 4 year old, where we see who can get the most kisses in first. I'd have loved to see Gideon and his older brother try a "kiss of war" and laugh and play together. As we approach the year mark of his birth, I miss Gideon a lot, and wish I could have seen him grow and change over the last year. I wish I could have kissed him every day.
At very least, I hope that during the few precious moments I had with my baby, he felt truly loved, wanted, needed, important, and that his pain was made a little bit more bearable by the tender kisses and cuddles we could give him. A week wasn't even close to enough, but a week is more than some people get, and I am really grateful that we got that much time.
Last night in the middle of the night, my 4 year old stumbled into my room, and first over to my husband's side of the bed. "Oops" he said, and then padded his way over to me. "Smooch?" he questioned, and I gave him a little kiss and off he went back to bed. I'm not sure why he needed a kiss in the middle of the night, but I'm glad that last night, I had super power kisses that helped my son to sleep.
I wish my super hero kisses would have been enough to fix Gideon. I wish my little man's sincere kisses would have been enough to heal Gideon. I wish we could do "Kiss o war" like I do with my 4 year old, where we see who can get the most kisses in first. I'd have loved to see Gideon and his older brother try a "kiss of war" and laugh and play together. As we approach the year mark of his birth, I miss Gideon a lot, and wish I could have seen him grow and change over the last year. I wish I could have kissed him every day.
At very least, I hope that during the few precious moments I had with my baby, he felt truly loved, wanted, needed, important, and that his pain was made a little bit more bearable by the tender kisses and cuddles we could give him. A week wasn't even close to enough, but a week is more than some people get, and I am really grateful that we got that much time.
I love you, and I miss you, Gideon. I'm glad that death isn't a forever loss, but I still miss you.
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