Gifts

I don't know about anybody else, but for me Christmas has just about every feeling possible crammed into the season.  I feel elated and excited, anxious and amicable, grief and gratitude, sympathy and sadness, delight and dread all swirling around as I try to dig deeper, be kinder, find ways to serve others, spend time thinking of the Savior and Heavenly Father and the gift they gave, and as I try to make sure everyone in our family has the right balance of presents and that they're wrapped and festive and fun.  I try to take time to create memories and also to reach out to others who may be in need.  It's a lot.  The purchasing and the wrapping of gifts and trying to plan and make everything perfect is definitely so overwhelming.

It is so easy to look around and see all that there is to do alongside all that needs to be done and then feel like I am drowning.  I want the house to be even more clean than normal (which is impossible when crafting, cooking, or creating anything--which I ALSO want to do more of.)  

I have 6 children, but people can only see 5.  It doesn't really make the child who died any less real, but he's less visible.  Because of that, I have been thinking a lot--for months, actually--about things that are not seen.  Struggles that lie hidden underneath the surface, talents that remain dormant when unused, and some of the amazing spiritual or personality gifts that many people are given, but aren't really easy to see all the time.  It's easy to see presents that are under the tree, but there are so many gifts that we forget to take time to appreciate. 

I am grateful for the gift of life.  I am more keenly aware of my ability to breathe after watching my child struggle for his last breaths.  I share that gift every single day with many other people.  For example, I keep my children alive by doing boring things like feeding them, and helping them learn to toilet train, and by giving them a home that feels safe and warm.  (I also don't kill them when they're making me crazy. )  As moms, sometimes we don't give ourselves credit for being alive, or for keeping others alive, or for enriching other's lives.  That is truly sharing a gift, and should not be discredited or discounted, even if the floors went unswept that day or the laundry ended up not folded.  

The ability to sympathize is a two-edged-sword type gift.  I am grateful that I am able to mourn with those that mourn, because it is what God wants me to do.  Possessing that gift means that I cry more, I hurt more, and I want to help more than I would otherwise, which often adds to my feelings of being overwhelmed.  Honestly, though, I wouldn't trade the gift away, because I know it has helped other people who really needed it.  And having been the recipient of true giving in my own time of need, the gift of being sympathetic means that I am better able to pay that forward.

Being able to easily talk to people is a gift.  The funny thing about that, is that there is a sister gift that is very different--which is the ability to truly listen to people.  And not just chit-chat and small talk, but the real, deep talk when we are trying to figure things out in our lives.  Our world seems to be gradually becoming void of people who nurture those gifts in themselves, which is why we now pay therapists and psychologists hundreds of dollars to listen and to talk to us about the things that really matter in our lives.  (And also, I think why politicians are unable to discuss or listen when they need to figure out real solutions to big problems.)  These are gifts too--not visible, but very much gifts.

So many talents are gifts.  I have been very blessed with musical talents, and I try to share them freely (without showing off--because I don't think that helps anyone to feel special.)  I have been very blessed by others who have shared their talents with me, whether it was sharing music, their ability to do makeup, sew clothing, make really great food, draw, paint, or take pictures.  All talents are gifts worth sharing (and receiving and working on), but none can be wrapped or put under a tree.  Except perhaps art.  My sister in law made this beautiful sketch for me and gave it to me recently. 

It is one of my favorite tangible gifts.  

Similar to talents, the gift of creating is so incredible.  As a mom, I have participated first hand in the creation of a human life, and that is something special.  Moms on bedrest often feel like "they can't do anything", and don't give themselves enough credit for investing so much of their life in creation.  Construction work isn't often considered to be a "glorious" profession, but creating homes and buildings is amazing!!

God has given so many gifts that can't be wrapped.  Families.  Love.  Earth.  Promptings of the Holy Ghost.  Commandments and blessings.  Prayer.  The list could go on and on.

Time is a gift--it's limited for all of us, but we just never know how limited it is.  Almost ANYONE that you ask wishes they spent more time with a loved one, especially once that person is gone.  And moments are precious.  Obviously each of us can't invest time in every single soul on the planet--that would be insane.  However, we can make our interactions with each soul in our sphere of influence count.  Whether it's driving considerately (because all of those people matter too), smiling at a stranger, sympathizing with a mom who has crying children at the store or the bank, holding the door for someone, or talking a little longer with someone who needs it, we all have so much time to spend on the people around us, and we might as well make the time count.  We often don't think that strangers can have an effect on us, but it's not true.  When I was a teenager, I remember once walking down the street and saying to a man "Hey, how are you?"  And he responded "I'm blessed, I'm blessed, I can't complain."  His response struck me and has stuck with me for all these years.  It taught me so much, in a 15 second interaction.  The time you spend everywhere will tick by whether we use it to share goodness or not, so make that gift count!!

The ability to love and be loved are such beautiful gifts, and even though they seem like they should be as natural as breathing, I really believe that different people are blessed with varying levels of ability in both of these areas.  Some people have the ability to love anyone in whatever "love language" they speak, and others struggle to speak more than their own "love language."  Some people truly struggle to feel genuine love (and often, as a result of mistreatment in their developing years, which is such a tragedy.)  I think, far too often, I don't count time spent helping someone feel loved as "getting something done" or "giving a gift", when truly, there aren't many greater gifts.  

So many times I've read the scripture "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13) and thought it was only talking about dying for someone.  What if that's not the only thing it's talking about?  What if it's talking about giving someone a part of your life?  Your time?  Your ability to love?  Enriching their life?  As a mom, I set aside many of my own personal goals each day in order to give each of my children the gifts that can't be seen.  Isn't that one version of "laying down my life for my friends?"  

To everyone caught in the same swirls of emotion and feeling overwhelmed as I have been: don't let the tangible things block your ability to see all the amazing gifts that you give every day.  Don't let your hustle to buy a present or wrap a present get in the way of you giving someone a hug or a listening ear. Just because everything on your "to do" list didn't get done, don't beat yourself up if you were spending your time with people, trying to improve their lives.  Don't discount those things that you do everyday--shuttling kids to and from appointments, making or buying food for your family, interacting with coworkers, creating buildings or homes or lives, listening to people--those count.  They may not be on your "to do" list, or under your tree, but they are gifts that are beautiful and special, and should be recognized too.  Happy Holidays to all my friends.  (This includes Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends, Merry Christmas to my Christian friends, and Joyous Kwanzaa to all my friends of African descent.)  And I hope all of you who read this take a few minutes to realize what an awesome gift each of you are, and the amazing gifts that you share every day.

  

My "me too" healing journey

Typically, the "joy in the journey" name of my blog applies to the joy I find on the journey of healing from the loss of a child.  I have felt a different joy from a different journey this week, though.  Most likely, people have noticed the trending status "me too" intended to bring awareness to sexual assault, abuse, or harassment.  I have been surprised how many of my friends (including even one of my male friends) have posted "me too".  My emotions have swirled--relieved to be able to talk about it, even as simply as "me too", horrified that so many can talk about it from the side of having experienced it, comforted by the support of so many, and cringeworthy emotions triggered by the memories of my experiences, as a child, and preteen.

I'm not going to go into the details. I have had more than one bad experience, and more than one perpetrator.  One perpetrator was a family member, another was a group of about 4 boys.  I was young, and I don't like to think about or dwell on the experiences I had.  I have experienced too much sadness, far too many nightmares, felt too much weight and too many effects from them.  I'd bet than anyone who really loves me would hate to hear the details (other than from mere curiosity) and it would probably bother them a lot to hear me talk about it.  And anyone who doesn't know and love me doesn't need to know.  I know some women who have chosen not to write "me too" for that reason.  They are strong, they are not hiding, they are simply choosing to have their experience remain theirs.  And those who are sharing are also strong, choosing to share a small tidbit of themselves that usually remains hidden to bring awareness to a subject that is uncomfortable and awful.

I've thought about how many "me too" experiences I've been able to share with others, some good and some bad.  I've had a miscarriage.  I've buried a baby I held in my arms.  I've been nearly hit by crazy drivers.  I've held the hand of an old person who didn't recognize me and listened to them talk to me as if I was someone they knew well.  I've given birth.  I have friends from different races, countries, sexual orientations, and religions.  I've been in a snowmobiling accident that nearly paralyzed me.  I'm grateful to be able to say "me too" as a way of standing shoulder to shoulder with those who feel happy, those who feel sad, those who feel overwhelmed, those who feel brave enough to talk about any of these things, and those who don't. 

In my later teen years, when the truth came out about my "me too" experiences with my family member, it felt like my entire extended family turned upside down.  My father looked old to me for the first time on the day he found out about what happened.  In some ways, when my extended family went crazy with the news, it felt like the damage was fresh, like the "bandaid" of years of saying nothing had been ripped off and the wound was fresh all over again.  I learned that there had been more victims in my family, and I wished I had spoken up sooner.  Perhaps if one of us had said something, less damage could have happened. 

But it wasn't my fault.  It wasn't their fault.  And it wasn't your fault.  And that was a huge part of what made my healing easier for me: knowing that it was not my fault, but the bad decision of someone else.

My mother was also sexually abused, by a family member (a different one).  For some reason, she grew up believing that it was her fault.  Her healing process was severely stunted, because she truly believed that it was her fault, that she had done something to deserve or earn that treatment, and that she had to "repent". (I use repent here in quotes, because I do believe repentance is a real thing.  I have felt so much better after repenting.  However one can not repent if one did nothing wrong, which is true whenever a child is abused--they did nothing wrong.)  And when she finally talked about it as an adult, her family struggled.  And she felt like it was her fault for bringing it up, like she should not make waves because it made everybody upset.  Truly, I am not sure she is fully healed yet.

Guys....it should make everybody upset.  Family members and friends should be upset by this.  Everybody should be upset by this.  The point of the "me too" thing is not necessarily to create upset feelings, but to upset the status quo that it's best not to make waves, and to help everyone realize that this problem is ginormous.  It's gargantuan.  And part of the reason it's so big is because only the "tip of the iceberg" is ever seen.  Most people don't talk about it, most people don't know about it, and most people don't know about the things that have happened in each other's lives.

I know there are women who don't want to say "me too" because they don't want to stir the pot, they don't want to make everybody upset.  I know there are women who won't say "me too" because they don't want to admit that anything wrong happened. I know there are women who are confident in themselves, who feel like they have moved on and don't want to share their feelings, and so they choose not to share their "me too".  I am certainly not going to judge any of them.  Because I can't see anything beyond the tip of the iceberg.  I hope that they feel loved and accepted and supported in all of this too.  And if nothing else, everyone should learn from this "me too" trend that we only EVER see the tip of the iceberg when we are dealing with other people, so we need to quit judging each other.

I do feel like I have moved on, forgiven, and let it go, but I still occasionally have nightmares and struggles because of it.  I don't know if there is a healer in this world who can prevent nightmares from happening, but I do believe there is a master healer.  In my later teen years, I really struggled with my experiences and how to react, feel, and move on.  I went to counseling.  I talked with family members.  I read a book about recovering from sexual abuse.  None of those things helped me more than my belief in Jesus Christ, that He felt this weight with me through the atonement, that He is horrified by these things, that He values me.  When I read about how He talked with people, the ways He taught, the way He healed people as individuals and not as a big mass healing, it helps me to see that He loves us individually, not just collectively. 

Anyone who follows this blog knows: I have said many times that I look forward to the resurrection when I will finally get to hold my Gideon again, watch him learn to crawl, walk, talk and grow. But I also look forward to the resurrection as a time when my healing can be made perfect.  And when my mother's healing can be made perfect.  I truly believe that God, who is fair and just, will heal me.  I truly believe He will fully heal everyone who has suffered at the hand of others.  There was a time in my life when my experiences left my emotions in so much turmoil, but I have felt the Savior's healing influence, the calm, the peace when I have prayed for help and turned to the scriptures.  Perhaps some may say it's all in my head, but I'll take the placebo effect (if that's what you want to call it.)  I am grateful for the peace.  John 14:27 puts it pretty well "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I to you.  Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."  There is no peace better than the peace He gives.  There is a spot in the Book of Mormon (in 3rd Nephi 17) when the Savior tells the people to bring anyone who is lame, blind, halt, maimed, leprous, or afflicted in any manner.  And the people bring all those who were "afflicted in any manner" to the Savior, and He did heal them EVERY ONE.  I honestly believe it happened then, and I believe I've already experienced much of the healing He offers, and that the finishing touches will happen one day. 

This week, I have been grateful to look back on my journey of healing from sexual offenses and see the peace I have been able to find.  I have been grateful to see that there is support from many other men and women.  I'm grateful that the fear, anger, and pain that I used to feel so often are now mostly replaced by a sense of peace, love, and wholeness.  I'm grateful to have a family support system.  And I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who had a plan in place that allowed people the supreme right to choose, but provided a Savior to heal those who had to suffer because of any of those choices.  I can see how far I've come on my healing journey, and I believe that is possible because of Him.

Do you have DNA?

It is amazing to me how the simple moments of motherhood sometimes seem so profound to me.  Here is one that has been replaying itself in my head for days, and the lessons it keeps teaching me are so simple and beautiful that I wanted to share.

Because we are moving to a new city, we put our children in their new schools at the beginning of the school year.  It means that I have had to do much more driving back and forth and we have gotten to have some great conversations in the car.  A few days ago, when returning home, my 12 year old was talking to my two year old, and asked her "Do you have DNA?"  (He was holding a model of DNA that he had made out of licorice, marshmallows, and toothpicks that day in one of his classes.)  Of course, being two, she said "No."  And he explained to her what DNA was and that everybody has it, and then he asked her again if she had DNA, and she said "No."  Bless her little heart, she just isn't ready to understand what DNA is, and since it isn't tangible to her, she told him "No" even after he tried to help her see and understand.

In that moment, I felt so strongly that there was a profound parallel meaning in that conversation, and I shared it with my children.  Sometimes I think we are like that when Heavenly Father wants us to learn a lesson.  It might be as simple as "I am here, listening to you.  Can you feel it?"  If we are ready, we can understand and feel it.  Sometimes, we just aren't in the right frame of mind to comprehend.  And sometimes, like a 2 year old, we are just contrary and so sure of ourselves that we aren't truly open to whatever explanations might come upon us.

And other times, amazingly someone comes along and helps us to see what was there all along, waiting for us to understand it.  They might not have done anything awesome, just shared something they learned and understood, but they do it in a way that resonates with us, and suddenly instead of saying "no", we get it.  I love those moments.  And I love the people who share them with me and help me to understand things.

You have DNA.  And you are loved by a Heavenly Father who listens and wants to help you, when you're ready.

Picking raspberries and learning

Welcome to summer!!  I have been doing a lot of berry picking and gardening lately.  In one of those moments, I was picking raspberries, and an idea struck me in a new way.  Have you ever noticed that when you're picking berries, you can stand in one spot, think you got all the berries, but then move over a little or crouch down, and see a whole bunch of berries you never saw before?

I have discovered that I am a watcher, a learner, I love to see and learn from life situations and from other people.  I had the fortunate (and also at times unfortunate) experience of growing up with a parent in the military, so I moved around a lot.  It was really hard, and I often spent a few months at each new place with a chip on my shoulder, and a bad attitude about my situation.  But once I finally opened up to the new place, the new opportunities, I learned and grew.  I made friends in every place I lived.  I learned to love unique things about each place.

Especially since losing a child, I feel that I am more open to people's differing points of view, because time is so valuable, and people are precious, and one never knows about how their interactions may help shape another's life.  We're all doing our best to muck through life (which truly is mucky at times) and kindness, respect, and an open heart and mind can go such a long way.

 I was picking raspberries up high, at my eye level, while my nearly 2 year old daughter was happily content picking raspberries at her own height.  From what I could see, she had gotten everything, and I was sure she'd be bored soon, but she kept picking and eating for as long as I kept picking, which was quite a while.

I picked until I couldn't see any more berries, and I was ready to go in and be done, but she was still going strong.  When I got down on her level, I could see many raspberries that I couldn't see before.  I'd missed them because I hadn't shifted my perspective enough.

BOOM!  Life is like that.  Life presents us with people, with opportunities to shift our perspective.  We can listen to people who have different points of view, we can accept changes in our lives, and all of a sudden there are good things, fruits if you will, that were simply waiting to be discovered.   But if we're sure we got them all, that we know everything, that we can't be willing to open up to new ideas, people, and places, then WE miss out.  The berries don't really mind not being picked.

So, I'm trying to open up, to not judge, to listen, to try harder to see things from another's point of view, because I just don't know what hidden raspberries await.

Full to bursting

Most people think I'm nuts for having as many children as I do.  (I've had 6 babies, each one wanted and planned.)  I have accepted that truth (that I'm nuts)...there is a certain amount of crazy that just has to be part of you to want to have this many responsibilities, this much potential for life to be randomly turned upside down, this much noise.  I also think, though, that I have grown and learned so much from each of my children, and each one helps my heart grow and adds so much to our family.  Sometimes when I'm pregnant, even though I want and love the baby, I'm nervous and afraid of how we'll all handle life with another child in our family.  Once they are here though, I typically wonder what we would ever do without them.

My toddler loves her stuffed animals a lot.  She likes to snuggle so many of them when she goes to bed that I'm not sure how she manages to hold them all.  When I put her to bed, she asks for each one by name.  "Bippo.  Jaffe.  Owl.  Bear.  Bunny."  (We never used to put her to bed with stuffed animals, but once she got old enough to talk and carry them around and interact with them, they sort of just ended up snuggling with her.)  Sometimes there are some changes to which ones she snuggles, but there are often more than really fit in her little arms.  Her smile, though, when her arms are full of her little animals reminds me of how my heart feels when we have those moments where we're all together and enjoying the moment.  I had to take a picture of it, because she's just so cute about it.

Whether it's reading a good book together, enjoying a movie together, going camping or exploring a new place together, or trying new foods together, my heart delights in the moments when my "treasures" are all nearby, sharing memories with me (when the moments don't contain bickering, fighting, complaining about hunger, or pestering--which are also a very real part of having such a large family).  I have more blessings than my arms can carry, more children to hug than can actually fit well in my arms all at once, but I am so truly happy.  I'd be lying if I said that this journey doesn't overwhelm me sometimes.  It does.  One thing I am learning is that just because something is overwhelming doesn't mean it is impossible.  And I've found that I should NOT turn away from things that overwhelm me, because they are also awesome chances to grow and share in moments that make my heart burst.

Family Lesson: Smart choices

I love children's literature.  There are so many wonderful things to be learned from reading: whether it's poetry, books, or magazines, or even the news, it broadens our minds.  I love reading, and though I rarely take the time to enjoy novels like I used to, I am teaching my children to love the library and to love reading and learning.

I also love short and easy lessons.  Family Home Evening is a program that was recommended by a prophet in my church many years ago.  (I don't know which prophet, or when, it was a ways back, and I don't keep track of EVERYTHING.)  It's a great idea, whether one is a member of the LDS faith or not, to just have a time to discuss things as a family, to share lessons or talk about subjects that are important.

This week, we talked about making wise choices, and about understanding the things we choose before we jump in and choose them.  We related it to choices about drugs, alcohol, failing in school, and many other reckless behaviors, but it could really be related to just about anything with regards to choosing wisely.  And our "text" was the poem "Smart" by Shel Silverstein.


I pulled out all of the proper coinage, and we talked about why the father, who sees and understands the values of the choices his son is making might be disappointed with what his son decided to do with the gift that was given to him.  This led us to talk about "gifts" that we are given by our Heavenly Father, who wants us to use them wisely instead of throwing them away or trading them for something we might think will be better, but would really leave us with less.  We also talked about why the boy believed that he was making good choices: four IS indeed more than three, and if you don't understand the value of the choices you make, you might believe you're making a good choice, when really you aren't.  We also talked about choosing between a good thing (such as 2 quarters) and a better thing (such as 1 dollar).  We had a lovely short discussion, but one I hope all the children will remember as they make choices in their lives.  Truthfully, I hope it's one I'll remember as I continue to make choices in my own life.

The Easter talk

I wanted to post this before Easter, but life is full and crazy, and I simply did not get around to it.  My feelings haven't changed one bit, though, about Christ or the resurrection or about my deep gratitude for it, so it's still absolutely relevant. 

I had the opportunity to speak in sacrament meeting on Easter Sunday.  (For those not of my faith: sacrament meeting is the main meeting on Sunday, where all the children and adults gather for a little over an hour, to think of the Savior, take the sacrament--bread and water to represent Him, and to remind us of Him, and which He first instituted with his apostles during the Last Supper, and to hear uplifting messages from members of the local area, usually chosen by the bishop.)  It was a scary privilege, speaking is always a scary privilege, but it was especially heavy, since it was on Easter Sunday: such an important day to really feel and appreciate what the Savior did.  A few of my family members asked me to send them my talk (which, of course, I did not read word for word, but this is pretty close) and I thought it made sense to share it on here, which is for sharing my thoughts and feelings. So, without further ado: my Easter Talk, with a few fun added pictures, since this IS my blog and I love pictures.

Introduce self/family—include the life change of “losing” Gideon.

I REALLY love super heroes.  I love movies about them, and imagining about how cool it would be to have super powers….  I think it would be awesome to walk on walls, miraculously rescue people with super strength, hear and influence thoughts, control the weather, be super brilliant and creative, or be tough enough to endure almost any pain and recover quickly.  I have never been able to make up my mind about which power I’d want to have.  Some days, when I’ve had a particularly awesome day as a mother, I feel like I should have earned a cape by now.

A few years ago, in another ward,  I was teaching some primary children, and it dawned on me that I should think of Jesus Christ as a superhero.   He didn’t walk on walls, but He walked on water..  Superman was often frustrated with his limitations on how he couldn’t save everyone, but Jesus Christ didn’t have that problem.  He saved EVERYONE. The Bible Dictionary explains grace this way: Grace is the help or strength given through the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. Through the grace of God, everyone who has lived will be resurrected—our spirits will be reunited with our bodies, never again to be separated. Through His grace, the Lord also enables those who live His gospel to repent and be forgiven . Our Savior hears our prayers, our thoughts, our hearts, and through the Holy Ghost, he is able to influence and direct ours.  He calmed the raging storm, He knows when we are telling the truth, and can help us find the truth in our lives.  He had to have been immensely brilliant and creative to come up with such an awesome planet—with deserts, rainforests, oceans, mountains, and what seems like an infinite number of living creatures, but to Him, they are finite.  They are numbered, He knows his creations.  And He was the toughest cookie to ever live on the Earth.  He had to be tough to endure the suffering and pain of the entire world during the Atonement.  And He conquered death.  Because He was resurrected, we all will be.  I am so excited to see my little son again, to get to hold and raise him one day.  And I appreciate the gift of resurrection more than I ever did before.

But there’s a little bit of a catch.  3^rd Article of Faith: We believe that through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel.  That means we to choose to follow him by obeying the laws and ordinances of the gospel. Well….we have to try, anyway.  We have known from the time the Plan of Happiness was presented in Heaven that we wouldn’t be able to be perfectly obedient, and that we would fall short.  And so Heavenly Father gave us a Savior, to make up the difference. 

So sometimes I wonder, how do I know if I’m really trying hard enough?  I often wonder if I am trying hard enough, or if I’m good enough.  I’m going to share a long portion of a talk by Elder Devn J Cornish of the 70, who spoke last fall in General Conference.  (This part may have to be summarized if time is short.)

“Through a series of tender mercies as a young doctor coming out of medical school, I was accepted for pediatric residency training in a high-powered, competitive program. When I met the other interns, I felt like the least intelligent and least prepared of all. I thought there was no way I could measure up to the rest of the group.

Early in our third month, I was sitting in the nurse’s station in the hospital late one night, alternately sobbing to myself and falling asleep as I tried to write the admission orders for a small boy with pneumonia. I had never felt so discouraged in my life. I didn’t have any idea how to treat pneumonia in a 10-year-old. I began to wonder what I was doing there.

Just at that moment, one of the senior residents put his hand on my shoulder. He asked me how I was doing, and I poured out my frustrations and fears. His response changed my life. He told me how proud he and all of the other senior residents were of me and how they felt like I was going to be an excellent doctor. In short, he believed in me at a time when I didn’t even believe in myself.

(I ABSOLUTELY believe that the Savior believes in us, sees the potential in us, and believes in us, even when we don’t believe in ourselves.)

As with my own experience, our members often ask, “Am I good enough as a person?” or “Will I really make it to the celestial kingdom?” Of course, there is no such thing as “being good enough.” None of us could ever “earn” or “deserve” our salvation, but it is normal to wonder if we are acceptable before the Lord, which is how I understand these questions.

Sometimes when we attend church, we become discouraged even by sincere invitations to improve ourselves. We think silently, “I can’t do all these things” or “I will never be as good as all these people.” Perhaps we feel much the same as I did in the hospital that night.

Let me be direct and clear. The answers to the questions “Am I good enough?” and “Will I make it?” are “Yes! You are going to be good enough” and “Yes, you are going to make it as long as you keep repenting and do not rationalize or rebel.” The God of heaven is not a heartless referee looking for any excuse to throw us out of the game. He is our perfectly loving Father, who yearns more than anything else to have all of His children come back home and live with Him as families forever. He truly gave His Only Begotten Son that we might not perish but have everlasting life!1 Please believe, and please take hope and comfort from, this eternal truth. Our Heavenly Father intends for us to make it! That is His work and His glory.”

Do I believe that God knows what he is doing?  Oh my goodness, I have had this faith tested a few times in my life, but I truly do.  I know He knows what He is doing.  His master plan is for us to succeed, to have immortality and eternal life.  And He didn’t set a plan in place so that most of us would fall short.  I’m sure he was confident that His plan was going to help us all progress, but we have to choose Him over distractions.  We have to REALLY TRY.

It’s HARD to always be trying our best, and to always make great choices, but it is made easier when we love God.  That leads us to love other people, and to lose our desires to sin.  And learning to love God and Jesus Christ means we have to take the time to get to know them, just like we have to get to know and love people.   Except we can’t literally ring a doorbell and go have a chat, we have to read, study, listen, and ponder in order to learn about and know them.  We live in a world where so many people believe that Christianity or religion is oppressive, that it ties and binds.  So many people believe taking time to study scripture or pray is a waste.  Satan has done a FABULOUS job of tricking people into believing the exact opposite of the truth.  A true belief in Christ, a deep testimony is one of the most liberating, enabling, empowering things a person can ever have in their life. 

I’d like to share two stories from Jesus’ life.  One is when He is with his disciples on the boat, and He was so absolutely exhausted that he was sleeping through an awful storm. (Possibly another superpower?) The apostles woke Him, because they were terrified, they were sure they were all going to die, and He first rebuked the storm, and then rebuked them for their lack of faith.  If they REALLY understood who He was, they would have known that God was not going to sink that ship. 

The other is from another storm found in Matthew 14. Jesus’ apostles were out in a boat on the Sea of Galilee, and Jesus approached them via the water.  At first they were all afraid, they thought it was a ghost, but He called out to them to calm their fears.  We can learn much from Peter in this story.  He said in verse 28: Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.  So Jesus did, and Peter did it.  He walked on the water toward Jesus.  But in verse 30, he saw the wind boisterous, and he became afraid.  And he started to sink, and cried out to the Lord “Save me”, and Jesus grabbed his hand, and helped him walk back to the boat.

Storms will come in our lives.  They just will.  People we love will die.  We will get sick.  Sometimes our friends and family will make choices that lead them away from happiness.  Sometimes, Jesus may calm the storm.  Sometimes, He may simply help us walk through the storm.  Sometimes, we might feel like we’ve got everything under control, and then become distracted by the waves, and become afraid and begin to sink.  This happens.  And a belief in Jesus allows us to call out to Him to save us, and He can help us to overcome those difficult things.  A strong testimony in the resurrection, in Christ’s power to heal and save can make all the difference through those storms.

I want to share some of the words from a beautiful song called “Still Believe” written by Hilary Weeks.  This explains much of how I feel about my Savior.  “I haven’t seen His face, but I have seen His miracles.  I haven’t heard His voice, but His spirit speaks to my heart.  I haven’t felt His hands, but I have felt His peace; and blessed are those who haven’t seen and still believe.  I didn’t walk with Him but each day he’s here by my side.  I didn’t watch as He healed, but His love has changed my life.  I didn’t see the cross, but I know it was for me, and blessed are those who haven’t seen and still believe.”

My VERY favorite scripture is Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me.”  I have relied on this promise many times, and I know that I will need to rely on it in the future.  He lends us strength, He helps us succeed, He makes it possible to weather the storms.

Jesus Christ is the ULTIMATE hero, He is there to help ALL of us succeed, and He helps us still today, because He lives, and He is still invested in who we are.  He has done the Atonement part of the plan of happiness, but that plan is going on RIGHT NOW, and we have to choose to follow it too.  He believes in us, even when we don’t believe in ourselves.  And not only does He have all of these amazing powers, but He has the power to see OUR super powers we all have hidden underneath, and wants to encourage us to rise and reach that potential, to become like Heavenly Father.  He knows me, and He knows you.  He lives, and because He lives, we will ALL live again.  We will see our loved ones.  To paraphrase Elder McConkie “In a coming day, we will get to feel the nail marks in his hands and feet and wet his feet with our tears.”  We will see Him, and if we have taken the time to get to know him and feel His love, we will recognize Him.

Love notes

A few weeks ago, I saw a Facebook post suggesting that beginning on February 1st, and going up through Valentine's Day, one should write a note to each of their children telling them what he or she loves about them.  I thought this would be a fabulous exercise for myself, helping my children to feel loved, and helping myself remember many of their best qualities, so I decided to go for it.  On day 1, after I had written and delivered everyone's notes to their doors, I thought of my Gideon.  I wanted a way to include him too, so I decided to write him tiny notes, and stick them to his picture.  He was, by far, the hardest, because sticking notes to his picture, instead of his door, was NOT what I ever wanted.  The first few days, I cried as I wished for the chance to put these on his door, to read them to him, and to know more about him, so I'd have more to say.  Looking at his picture daily, and searching for things I could say about how/why I love him when I only got to spend such a short time with him was very difficult, but it was also very therapeutic.  Many of the things I love about him are the changes he has brought into my life.  He helped strengthen my marriage, my faith, and my resolve to be a better person.  I love all those things about him.  

One of my most treasured memories is of singing to him with my other children.  All his vitals were constantly being monitored; his little lungs were very underdeveloped.  Consequently, he needed a very high concentration of oxygen to keep himself at the right amount of saturation.  Except when we sang to him, his O2 would peak, and they'd have to turn it down.  Something about music... I love that I have that memory.  And I love that there is a musical connection between us.

On the first few days, my kids were not really smitten with their love notes.  "What is this?" and weird looks were mostly how they were received.  After about 5 days, they started reminding me if the notes weren't put up by late afternoon.  When I told them that today was going to be the last day of notes, they were all shocked.  My 6 year old wants me to keep going "at least until the day after Thanksgiving"....I told him that we would run out of wall space.  I am grateful for this chance I got to dig deep inside myself, to pay attention and search for the gifts that each of my children have been blessed with, to really observe them and the way I feel about them, and to share it with them.  It took a long time to cut and write their notes, and I did miss one day (being completely honest and keeping it real for those who fall short like myself), but I'm so glad I took the time to reach out to each of my family members this way, even my husband and my son who isn't here to read the notes.  He'd be 2 and a half now and I know I'd love and enjoy him so much.

  My biggest hope for these love notes to my children and spouse was that they'd feel loved and special, and I think that it was a success.  My biggest hope for myself is that I'd be able to remember and put into words many of the different ways that each of these special people have blessed my life, and reasons I love them, and that it would enlarge my heart, and I think that worked too.  Happy Valentines Day, I hope everyone has the chance to feel loved and special today and every day, and also that everyone has the chance to notice, appreciate, and share those observations with the treasured ones in their lives.

I'm a dreamer--Invitation to ALL

My heart has been permanently changed.  Losing a child has left me with some long-term sensitivities that will most likely never leave me.  (I can't say 100% for sure that they'll never leave, because although I love to share my--cough cough--abundance of wisdom, I don't pretend to be able to read the future, not even my own.)   I know that I do not understand what other people have experienced, that I can not ever fully comprehend their circumstances, and I know that I should not judge them, or assume that I know what they are going through.  I have ultimate respect for moments that are treasured and used wisely, and I am dreadfully disappointed by wasted time.  I believe time is wasted with any moment that we use to tear others down or create barriers, partly because I have had the privilege of spending time with a tiny human being who never uttered an unkind word or syllable during his life, and who never will.  I have been blessed by people who didn't judge me in my tough times, and I have been very hurt by people who have made unkind, rude comments or judgments that they had no business making.

These sensitivities have led me to discover a hope for a better world, as well as a disappointment with the one in which I now exist.  I want to see people build each other up, not tear each other down.  I love to see strangers give positive words to each other, and I want to see more people restrain themselves and refrain from insults and injury to other human beings.  I know and expect that everyone will not agree.  Diversity and differences are a beautiful part of the world we live in, and I fully respect everyone's right to disagree, but I want to be part of a world where we can actually agree to disagree, and do so agreeably.

When I shared these sentiments a few days ago on my Facebook page, a family member of mine told me that I am living in a dream world, and that he wished we all did.  For some reason, that comment has reverberated in thoughts from the first moment I read it.

The first thing it reminded me of is a favorite scripture of mine (from the Book of Mormon) Ether 12:4  Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.

I have loved this scripture since I was a teenager.  I love that entire chapter, it is one of my top 5 favorites in all of the scriptures.  To paraphrase and make it personal: I believe in God, and that faith inspires me to hope for a better world, one where more people believe in Him and try to be like Him.  This desire for a better world helps me to do good, helps me to be sure and steadfast, and helps me to glorify God, and it's all true.  I am a dreamer, I am a hopeful person, I believe the world can and should be a much better place.

I could list an overwhelming amount of scriptures that talk about hope and faith, because they are two principles that are so relevant to life.  I hope for a better world.  I have faith in the resurrection, which gave me hope when my heart was so broken as we learned that our son was most likely not going to live, and my hope made that desperate situation much less miserable.  My hope is so robust that it might be called "lively hope" as Peter called it in 1 Peter 1:3.  And my hope HAS to be strong, or else the misery and disappointment would be the primary players on the stage of my heart.  I want other people to have a sense of love, faith, and hope that is able to help them to get through their hard times, like the hope in my heart helps me get through my own.

I'm a dreamer.  Another thought I had after reading the aforementioned comment was a poem from Shel Silverstein (I LOVE HIS SENSE OF HUMOR!!)

I am totally a dreamer.  I hope.  I pray.  I FEEL God's love when I pray, and I've been guided through tough times by His inspiration after prayers.  To some people, that might equate with buying magic beans, but for me, the hope I have gets me through every day.   (And it's OK with me if you don't agree with me about believing in God--we can still be friends.) I never want to be the person that damages another person's hope, their sense of humanity, their belief that they are a good, capable person.  I don't want to insult someone, and make them believe they are anything less than a special child of God.  So if you're a dreamer, this is an invitation for you.

It's not too late to resolve to "break" the status-quo.  Who cares if it's January 13th, and not January 1st?  I can decide to make a change ANY time.  I'm not going to try to weight lift this year, I'm going to "people lift".  I have begun building my "dream world", and I'm inviting anyone else around me to do the same.  Life is too short to waste on waiting for a special set date at which I will try to change the way I post and the way I comment, or to encourage others to focus on positivity.  Nobody knows how much time they really have (we were given only a few days with our son--that's it).  So don't waste it.  It doesn't take a huge amount of preparation to have a special moment where you lift someone up.  I'm going to start lifting today.