Feeling all the feelings and being OK with it

This blog originally started as a form of therapy for me, I used it to write my emotions and my struggles and the things I learned as I dealt with the loss of our tiny Gideon back in 2014.   (Happy birthday Gideon!!) I have also found that it is helpful for me to write out my feelings, learning, and growth from other pieces of our lives too. 

Many of you who have followed along in my life and on my blog hear me share my good times and my bad, and sometimes they're the exact same moment--good and bad, heartwrenching and beautiful, growth and stretching that is painful but also strengthening and stimulating.  And I'm swimming through just such a time right now (and truly, sometimes it feels like I'm barely holding my head above water).

My oldest child is 18.  He's graduated high school and got an associates degree and we are so proud of him for working so hard to do so much while he's so young.  But he made some foolish decisions (which he admits, so I'm not just throwing him under the bus) and his girlfriend got pregnant, and we're disappointed that they didn't think logically and carefully about what they were doing.  However, he wants to give this child a home and a family and a life of love, and so does she, so they felt like they needed to get married.  Yes, married (I also had a little bit of shock about that, so if you're reeling, that's OK, it took me a while to process it too.)  They got married last week, and I'm so proud of them both for sacrificing and loving the baby before she's even born.  He's gone to every doctor's appointment with his wife so far, and I'm so glad he's trying to connect and understand all the things.  But I also think this is a whole lot they are trying to take on, and I worry that they're very unprepared. 

I'm sure you can imagine that my emotions are in a serious spin cycle right now.  I have felt like I'm broken as I experience all the highs and lows and topsy turvy emotions that there are to feel. 

I think I've felt all the things, and then wondered if there's something wrong with me for having such conflicting emotions. It's hard to watch my baby grow up. It's hard to watch the two of them work through the consequences of their choices. I'm proud. I'm disappointed. I'm embarrassed. I'm excited. I'm terrified. I'm hopeful. I'm nervous. I'm delighted. I'm hesitant. I'm happy and sad. I want to help them as much as I can without helping them too much.  I want to celebrate with them, but remind them to be responsible.  Some moments I feel totally overwhelmed, and others I feel very calm, and convince myself not to stress at all.  It's been quite a rollercoaster.  I know many parents experience similar rollercoasters as their children grow up.

So last week, besides planning for a wedding, I had the opportunity to go to girls camp with my oldest daughter.  It made for a very crazy week, but the time to just think, ponder, stretch, serve, and enjoy was a huge blessing amongst all the stressing and worrying and planning and preparing that I had been doing.  I don't know how many opportunities will pop up for me to be invited as her leader to girls camp, so I figured I'd better not miss this one.  (Which has its own beautiful lesson about seizing opportunities and making the most of them, which we are both grateful we did, despite a wedding happening at our home 2 days after we got back.)

While I was there, I did a morning yoga class with my daughter.  I am not a yoga"regular", but I have done it a few times before, (my sister first taught my children and I a mini yoga class) and I enjoy the strengthening and stretching, so we decided to go for it.  And my soul needed it.  Our instructor did such a great job of talking us through the emotional and spiritual side of yoga, besides the physical aspects of finding balance.  Push and pull.  Tighten this while relaxing that. Find tension and release it, etc.  Thinking about emotions in balance, I had a HUGE epiphany, which I REALLY needed.  I had been feeling like I was broken, stuck in this bizarre swirl of emotions: immersed in a tornado I couldn't escape.  Taking a few minutes to stretch and ponder, to feel gratitude, to open myself up to all the things I needed to learn from the trees and the grass and the world around me, I realized that I'm not broken and I'm not breaking; I'm growing.  Like a tree in wind, my roots are growing deeper, my limbs stronger.  Did you know that trees and plants actually grow stronger and better because of wind?  When they grew plants and trees in the biosphere, they found that they were too weak from lack of wind. (You can read about it here. The Role of Wind in a Tree's Life)

Trees grow slowly over time, but they have cycles of rapid and slower growth (which is what forms the rings in their trunks, actually.)  As I opened up my heart, I realized I am currently in a period of rapid growth.  So are my son and his new wife.  Growth can be stressful and it is often hard and painful, but growing is what life does. I don't need to feel like all these emotions are breaking me, or like I'm somehow less than my whole self because I'm experiencing so many emotions so often. I just need to keep trying to find my balance, find my push and pull, allow myself to hurt and rejoice all at the same time, to feel skeptical and hopeful and resilient and fragile and overwhelmed but also like I got this with God on my side.  And I'll grow.  And I don't really have control over whether they'll choose to grow or not, but I do hope they'll choose to grow.  Because I know that, for me, feeling like I'm growing feels WAY better than feeling like I'm broken.

Watching my daughter grow and try new things at girls camp was so awesome.  It was hard growth for her because it took her away from her comfort zone (even though I was there, she got pretty homesick.  Covid has not done my children any favors on being comfortable away from their home space.) But she stuck it out, and she ended up having a wonderful experience and feeling that connection with people and nature, finding new skills and hobbies and I'm so glad I got to be there to share it with her.  (On their turns, they each got to fire 4 arrows.  This turn, she was delighted that 4/4 hit the target and one nearly in the center.)

Listening to my son and his bride share their vows was a special experience I'm glad I got to witness. I hadn't shared on social media, because I wasn't prepared to deal with the conflicting emotions I knew I'd experience as friends and family sent me congratulations and also sent me "Wait, what is going on?" type messages.  Realizing that the conflicting emotions are going to be tricky to balance, but are necessary for growth, I'm much more ready to share now.  And if you have questions and want to reach out, go for it. I'll try to share openly and honestly. I am still working on finding my balance, so if I seem overly negative or too positive, know that I'm trying to figure it out, and I'm not there yet.  As always, I'm a work in progress. 

 I won't forget how cute they were feeding each other cake, or grinning at each other as they danced. 
I'm glad that her family has been so welcoming to our son.  I hope she feels welcomed and loved by our family. I am excited to love and "take in" more family members.  Of course I'm nervous for them, but I have learned from every person I have ever loved, and I'm excited to learn from these new people in my life, and hope for growth for all of us.  

So GROW, everybody.  GROW.  If you're having a hard time with anything going on in your life, it's OK to feel all the feelings.  Swirls of emotion help us grow, just like wind helps the trees.  And growing is what we're all here to do anyway. 

The parable of the M&Ms

 

I have this funny way of receiving revelation right in the middle of everyday moments; recognizing things that the Lord wants me to understand--things that should be pretty plain and easy to understand, but maybe I haven't fully grasped them yet.  I had this type of epiphany about how I react to the Lord’s proposed “surprises” or blessings for me when I gave my 19 month old daughter some M&Ms last week.

She’s still at the age where she puts different things in her mouth, especially if they look like food, but she’s also far more wary than she used to be. She’s had enough experience to know some things aren’t very yummy, and have consequences.

So the other day after lunch I gave her some M&Ms.  Only a few to try, maybe 5 or 6 total.  Well, I tried to give her M&Ms but at first she was not going to have anything to do with them.  I’m pretty sure I even told her they were chocolate. But she was very skeptical. They don’t really look like chocolate to someone who doesn’t know. So she tried them—kinda. She put them in and spit them out. They don’t really feel or taste like chocolate right away either. I tried to convince her it was really chocolate and have her keep one in her mouth long enough to figure it out, or to bite down on it and really give it an honest try.  But she just wouldn’t. 

I didn’t want to force feed her the M&M, and the beginnings of my “A-HA! moment” has sprouted; I had begun to recognize my own skepticism in her behavior, so I decided to break one in half and help her see what was really inside.  When she could see the chocolate, she was interested. Once it was broken in half, she willingly popped half in, and once she could taste the chocolate with that first half, then she was happy to eat the other M&Ms.

The Lord has given me some blessings coated in challenges, and I have sometimes reacted much as my daughter did to those M&Ms.  My own thoughts might go something like: “I know this is supposed to be a blessing, but it doesn’t look like a blessing. It doesn't feel or taste or smell like a blessing." If I gave the "blessing" (AKA trial) a half-hearted attempt, I felt like “I tried it”, (and then spit it out or rejected it as no good) when I really hadn’t tried that hard. It does seem like once I bite down and just get to what’s at the heart of it, give it a little time & effort and trust, the true nature of my blessing becomes much more clear. As I go through life's experiences, I am thankfully becoming more accepting of the M&Ms the Lord has to offer me, knowing that He gives good things, even if sometimes I can't quite recognize them at first.

A broken heart, a happy heart

First of all, let me just declare that I'm not master scriptorian, nor am I a master of faith.  Sometimes, though, an idea just hits me so hard, and for me writing and researching helps to sort through those thoughts, so here I am.

Yesterday, our family was reading in the Book of Mormon, in Ether chapter 4, and in verse 15 we read the phrase (which is found frequently in the scriptures) "a broken heart and a contrite spirit", and I stopped to ask my children if Heavenly Father always wants us to be sad.  After all, a broken heart nearly always implies sadness.  They were confused by my question, but I just wanted them to think about it, not to have a great answer.  And then it really made me think about it too...because the scriptures also explain to us that "Men are that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25) and those sayings seem a little contradictory.  Joseph Smith the prophet said "Happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof if we follow the path that leads to it..." How do you have joy and happiness with a broken heart?!  

Today, we sang the sacrament hymn number 169, and the last line says "We love thee Lord, our hearts are full, we'll walk thy chosen way."  Again...how do you have both a full and a broken heart?! 

Perhaps my conundrum is that I am not really understanding the correct meaning of the word "broken" in this context, and perhaps I've been interpreting it incorrectly all along.  

Elder Randy D. Funk said "Soil is broken to plant wheat.  Wheat is broken to make bread.  Bread is broken to become the emblems of the sacrament.  When one who is repentant partakes of the sacrament with a broken heart and contrite spirit, he or she becomes whole."

I had not thought of the word "broken" like that...ground is broken.  As a gardener, I love to plant seeds, and you have to have decent ground in order to plant seeds and have successful plants.  When wheat is "broken" it becomes flour, really it's most usable form.  In this context, broken doesn't imply unable to function or hurt or messed up, it means "ready to become what they can be" or even "unlocked potential".  Some things (like an egg for eating) can't be used if they aren't broken, and breaking an egg is what unlocks a different purpose than leaving it untouched.

I have very little formal training with horses, but I do have a wonderful aunt who owned a farm, and who taught me how to ride (a little).  She knew most girls have a dream to ride horses, and she made sure I got that chance.  According to the website animals.mom.com, the term "broke" refers to a horse that is safe to ride and has all his basic manners.  Such a horse is familiar with the feeling of a saddle, the weight of a rider, and the cues given by a rider through the reins, the saddle, the legs and their seat.   Conversely, an unbroken horse is not considered to be rideable.  Sometimes this is just because a horse is too young to be ridden, and so they have not received any training yet.  But an adult horse that is not broken is often considered to be of very little value.  Here's a link if you want to read a little bit more about this. 

https://animals.mom.com/unbroken-horse-2492.html

Perhaps this definition of broke might also apply--a heart that is well trained would be ready to handle the weight and cues of a Heavenly Father who has a great destination in mind, a heart that is willing to let Him lead instead of just going wherever it wants to go, and consequently a heart that is of more value than one that is "unbroken".

Having had an actual broken heart (like as in sadness) before more than once, I do know that I turned to the Lord an awful lot during those times.  I needed the extra help, love, support, and guidance that the Lord had to offer, and I believe He wishes I would always spend so much time reaching out to Him.  But I also believe that He wants me to do this when I'm happy, not just when I'm sad, and that sadness is not the only way to "break" a heart.

So...allowing a heart to be willing to become what it can be, to "break" it like when you break ground, or "break" it like when you break an egg to be able to use it, or "break" a horse, training it to allow someone else to lead and guide it.  Any one of those versions of a "broken heart" would definitely allow a heart to be full and to experience deep happiness and joy.  Finding the answer was probably the easy part.  The hard part is the continual quest...to make sure that I truly have a broken heart.

You matter. It's OK to ask for help.

 A few days ago, I posted on Facebook asking my friends for help regarding an assignment my son had for his high-school English class.  He was asked to write about an issue using opinions and feelings, not just using numbers and statistics.  He chose to write about suicide, and so I asked friends and family for their opinions on how prevalent suicide is as an issue, and whether or not they had been affected by it and how.  

The responses I got floored me.  My heart hurt so much with my friends and for my friends who responded, and I realized that this problem is much bigger than I thought.  Many of my friends have family members who have attempted or committed suicide.  A few of my friends have attempted it themselves, and some just thought about it during their darkest, bleakest times. Almost all my friends have been personally impacted: themselves, a friend, a family member, a student, a teacher--someone they cared about either seriously considered, attempted, or committed suicide. 

As I lie awake at 3 AM this morning, a million thoughts fill my head, but one that I can't shake is that people need to know about this.  I have drawn a few conclusions, and I think it would help me go back to sleep if I write them out, and share them with whoever is willing to read them.  More people need to be comfortable talking about the times when they struggle or feel really alone, and also about mental health problems.

I'm sad that there is now a stigma associated with the phrase "all lives matter", as if it is an anti-black sentiment or a banner to ignore the fact that many people aren't given fair chances.  (I say fact because I've seen it first-hand.  If you've ever known someone who was raised in a "ghetto" area, you'll know that they really do face challenges that many regular middle class families don't.  Fact.)  The reason I am writing this, though is because all lives really do matter.  And every person needs to know that they are a part of that.

There is a really great explanation for the basic needs of all human beings, and I didn't create it.  It was identified by Abraham Maslow years ago.  The basic gist: we all have a very similar set of needs, but where we all lie on the pyramid of needs is different, depending on our personal circumstances.  If our baser needs are not met, we can not address needs higher up on the pyramid.  So those of us who have been so blessed to have lived our whole lives feeling safe, not wondering where our next meal will come from, having clean drinking water etc. are often much more concerned with the needs higher up on the pyramid, such as our self worth, finding ways to be creative, reading about issues and forming opinions, etc.

J. Finkelstein [GFDL or CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

When we are used to being in one spot on the pyramid and something shakes us up, it can really knock us down considerably, taking us back to worrying about the barest and basest of needs. If a beloved family member dies, it can sometimes knock us down from a place of love/belonging to only worrying about our safety and physiological needs.  If a person was taken from us in a way that makes us feel unsafe (killed, kidnapped) our very basic needs feel threatened and it is hard for us to be concerned with the other needs higher up.  And many people struggle to handle a drop from one level to another, it makes us feel like we aren't worth anything if all we are worrying about is our very basic needs, when we've been used to being in a place where we felt loved, respected, and confident.  This can be one reason people want to commit suicide.  When all we worry about is our basest needs, we stop recognizing our value as an individual, we're just like any other animal or life form out there, struggling to survive and using resources (like food or shelter).  It's hard to see past the end of the struggle to a time/place when life will get better and we can be in a place where we are more "ourselves" again and not just a person struggling to survive.  

Here is a beautiful post from someone that I look up to, pointing out that she is now seeing the "better days" she almost missed.  Most people who attempted suicide and didn't succeed feel similarly.  They are glad they are still here.  They can see what they would have missed.

For some people, even people who seem "normal", their mental health issues make it hard for them to ever live beyond the base of the pyramid.  Even when they do things that should give them a sense of accomplishment, they struggle.  Some people feel anxious and nervous all the time.  For some people with depression, just doing those basic things (taking care of food, shelter, etc) feels like such an insurmountable task, doomed to failure, that they just don't/can't.  Their brain and body have a literal chemical imbalance where they need help to be able to function.  We need the right balance of chemicals in our bodies.  Many people need either therapy or medication or both.  Therapy works when our body is actually capable of producing the right chemicals, perhaps a person may just need some training on how to recognize and solve problems in their life, or how to recognize and root out insecurities or issues, isolate them, and realize their worth as a person goes above and beyond that, but sometimes medication is needed because a person literally can not make the right balance of chemicals their body needs. There should never be any shame in this.  Somehow, there seems to be a stigma, a shame associated with needing therapy or needing medication for depression or anxiety or other mental illnesses.  If there is no stigma for needing insulin, if there is no stigma for needing thyroid medication, then there should not be a stigma for needing medication for mental health.  I do understand that sometimes people who probably don't need medication (particularly drugs prescribed for anxiety or depression) are abusing it, or are prescribed it as a band-aid for a problem that may be better solved through therapy or other life changes, and perhaps that is where the negative stigma comes from.  I believe that stigma does more harm than good though. 

Here's another weird thing that does more harm than good.  Why do we consider it such a bad thing to ask for help?  Or even worse, when someone offers us help, why do we so frequently turn them down, instead of actually saying "I could use the help, but I don't even know what to ask for."  Many of us are blessed with friends and family who sincerely want to help us through our hard times, and it's OK to admit that we are human and can use help sometimes.  We are all human, and in this world of "I have a perfect life" on social media posting, we hvae lost touch with reality.  Most of us are so fiercely independent and don't want to be looked down on, so we just won't ask for help when we could truly use it, or even acknowledge that we are struggling until we are nearly drowning in struggles.  I'm sure we've all known a few people in life who seemed like "takers", and none of us want to be "that guy".  Really, though, while independence is a really great thing and something most of us are striving for as human beings, we've forgotten that no man is an island and we are all truly interdependent.  There is nothing wrong with needing help, that's part of being a human being.  It's OK to ask for a listening ear, or a hug.  It's OK to ask for help running an errand, or for help on a project that's too big to handle alone.  And sometimes "ourselves" are a project that is too big to handle alone.  We need to give ourselves some grace, to allow others to make up the difference when we are having a hard time.  It's OK to not be OK sometimes.  

If a friend asks what they can do to help, don't tell them "I'm fine" or "Thanks, but I got this."  Things you (and I) could and probably should respond.  "I could use help, but I don't want to take up too much of your time.  If you don't have a lot of time, could we chat for 5 minutes?" "I think I'm OK right now, but it is hard, please text me in a week to check on me."  (Or if you're a hugger like me, you may ask for a hug instead.)  "I could use help, but I am so overwhelmed that I honestly don't know what I need."  "Thank you for noticing that I am struggling.  This is a really hard time in my life." "I want to take you up on your offer to help, do you have something in mind?"  Seriously, I've been in a place (more than once) where I needed help, and I had NO IDEA what kind of help I needed.  I think it's not always easy for us to identify what is happening (we're pretty multi-faceted) and so pinpointing some exact way someone could help isn't easy.  Admitting that you could use help, though, is an incredibly liberating thing, and it's HUMAN.   

I've had good friends who offered help and when I said "thank you, I do feel overwhelmed and I need help, but I don't know what to ask for", I've had people step up and help in the ways they are most comfortable.  For example, when I went to the hospital to have Gideon, they had seen in an ultrasound that he wasn't doing well, and then we had the week where he was in the NICU, and then he passed away and we planned a funeral, and then the grief afterward.  It was a very difficult road for months.  Many people wanted to help, and I didn't have the wherewithal to coordinate what people could do to help me.  I appreciated people reaching out and offering, and I let many of them come up with their own idea of what they could do.  One friend asked for my kids lists of school supplies and she bought all their back-to-school stuff for me.  Meals were brought in (some very thoughtful friends created freezer meals for us, so that when I was feeling overwhelmed, I could throw one in the oven for a few hours and have a yummy meal, made at home, but not through much effort of my own.) Some neighbors and family babysat my other kids for me while I went to the hospital, and some people came in and helped my kids clean up the house while I was at the hospital.  Some people helped by giving us gift cards to restaurants (knowing we'd be overwhelmed and busy and that we could use them as needed) some people gave us money knowing medical bills and funeral expenses are a lot, and some people came and did yard work.  We had so many people rally.  And I could've felt like I was a "taker" for receiving so much help, but what I decided to do was to be willing to pay it forward.  I am still paying forward the kindness and love that we received during our hardest times.  It's OK to need things sometimes, and to decide to pay it forward one day when life looks up.  We are interdependent, not just independent.  Let people help.  Ask for help.  It is not weak to admit that you are human, it is strong.  There is so much strength in admitting that you don't have everything under control.

One other thing I observed in reading my friends' responses is that many of those who decided not to attempt suicide were able to remember that life is bigger than their own self, right here, right now.  They thought of the friends or family who might find them and how devastating or traumatic it might be.  They thought of the future and that maybe things could and would change. (Change is inevitable, we all know that.  If it's really dark right now, light is probably in your future.) Those who attempted were very stuck in their own head, very stuck in their own grief, very stuck in the moment.  They can look back now and see it, and are glad that they did not succeed.  Learning to think outside of yourself, outside of right now is a very good suicide prevention.  As a mom, this is something I want to make sure I help my kids learn, to help protect them from those dark times that will probably be a part of their lives at some point.  

Hang in there.  Ask for help.  Accept help.  Know you are loved.  You matter.  It might be dark now, but light will come.  Grief hurts and it ebbs and flows, but there are moments beyond this one.  Getting help is not weak, it takes strength.

One in a billion and beyond

People often use the phrase "one in a million" to mean that someone or something is quite unique and special.  When something is "one in a million", we value it, we keep it safe, it's rare.  What about one in a billion?  What about one in 7.8 billion?!  While I don't spend all of my time doing math for fun, I do actually understand math pretty well, (I can still help my oldest son who's going into 12th grade) and I like being able to calculate things and prove things numerically.  So here's my mathematical proof that I'm one in a million.

The world has about 7.8 billion people (source 1)  I live in the United States, which makes up about 4.25 % of the world's population, with about 331,000,000 people (source 2).  I am white (76.5 % of US population) and female (50.8% of that) (source 3).  In the U.S., 46.7% of people aged 35-44 have an associates degree or higher (source 4).  I couldn't decide whether I wanted to go into special education or regular education, and Scott and I were ready to have a family, so we put my education on hold.  And honestly, I'm still not sure which one I'd prefer, but I LOVE teaching.  So far, these things aren't even really THAT unique.  However, I do play the piano, (and I wish I could teach piano to so many more students than I do, I seriously love it.)  Only about 10% of people play musical instruments (source 5).  I am also a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, only about 2% of the US population (source 6).  I have an unusually large number of children for today's day and age (and I absolutely love being a mom of a big family, and each child was planned and is adored, though not EVERY moment).  From the source I could find, only about .84% of families in the US have 3 or more children per family (source 7).  In order to combine all these decimals, I have to multiply them out.  Currently, I'm at .00000013%.  Guess what?!  That means I'm already rarer than 1 in a million.  But I'm also among a select few who have had a baby die.  The infant mortality rate in the US is 0.0058.  I've given birth to 7 beautiful children, but one of them passed away.  I'm beyond 1 in a million already.  If you added in other traits I have, you'd find that I become even more of a rarity.  I sing.  I'm good at math.  I am afraid of reptiles and amphibians.  I've cut open and eaten a jackfruit (they're delicious and WEIRD).

The point of this post isn't really that I'm a rarity, though.  It's that EVERYONE is a rarity.  Any person on this planet could start finding statistics about themselves compared to the rest of the world and they'd find that they're already beyond one in a million.  My next door neighbor is a very kind man, and he is black.  He's married to a woman who is hispanic.  (And their two kids have GORGEOUS skin, by the way.)  These are things that make him unique, rare, and a keeper.  One of my younger sisters has Hashimoto's disease (which only affects 1-2% of the population, see source 9).  She sings.  She's quite tall for a woman.  She was raised by conservatives, but she's liberal.  There are all kinds of things that make her unique.  She's way beyond one in a million.

Every life is so important.  My black next door neighbor.  My little sister.  Me.  My son who died.  The man who cut me off as he hurried to wherever he was going.  The person who checked out in the line at the grocery store in front of me. George Floyd.  Breonna Taylor.  David Dorn. Shay Mikalonis.  Sargeant Damon Gutzwiller, Sargeant AlTerek Patterson. If you know who the first few names are, but not the last few, then look them up too (source 10).  They each are also beyond one in a billion.

My point: we NEED to stop dividing against each other.  For gracious sakes, we have thousands upon thousands of precious, rare people out fighting and hurting other precious, rare people, trying to prove that they matter.  People are fighting, dying, over who is important and who matters.  While I believe all lives matter, and the point is that all lives are precious, we need to make sure that everyone realizes that ALL lives are precious and rare.  Black people's lives need to be protected--they should be treated as precious (they're more rare than white people, statistically), but they're sadly far too often not even treated as equals.  That's sad.  I believe that everyone should be able to stand behind the saying "black lives matter".  And when I say that, I include black police officers, black shop owners, black conservatives, black people who are middle class, and black people who are lower class, who are ALL beyond one in a billion.

Speaking of precious lives: the last two names I identified are police officers who died of Covid 19 exposure in the line of duty. Too many people are so worried about their own "freedom" to do whatever they want that they've forgotten to protect the other precious 1 in a billion that are out there.  I know not everyone can wear a mask, but go to source 10, and doublecheck my counting.  Of the 110 officers killed in the line of duty, 28 of them (so far) have died from Covid 19.  If you're in the "blue lives matter" camp (and I think everyone should be) then wear the mask, if you can.  I realize that another precious rarity is asthma, and another precious rarity is claustrophobia, and those are legitimate reasons to not wear one.  (So heaven sakes, people, stop judging if someone doesn't wear a mask, because the person not wearing one is a precious one in a billion too.)  But too many precious police officers (and more) put their lives on the line because they know that other people are precious and need help, and those 28 sacrificed their rare and precious selves for others, and died from this pandemic.

So if you're reading this, know that you literally are rare.  You are precious.  There is NO one in the world just like you.  Your passions, your loves, your traits, your history make you unique and special.  And it is not unique or special to belittle or mistreat another precious soul.  It never has been, and it never will be.  I believe the police need to be in the "black lives matter" camp for this to work.  I believe the people of color are going to need to realize that "blue lives matter".  I believe Republicans and Democrats are both going to have to realize how important each life is and find a way to do their best to protect life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  People are going to have to learn to respect and treat each other as the truly precious human beings that we are, and we need to watch out for each other and protect each other however we can.  Or the things happening in the world right now are going to continue to divide and conquer us, instead of the other way around.

SOURCES

1. 7.8 billion people in the world https://www.worldometers.info/world-population/#:~:text=7.8%20Billion%20(2020),Nations%20estimates%20elaborated%20by%20Worldometer.
2. How many people in the U.S.:  331,000,000  (about 4.25% of the world's population)
https://www.worldometers.info/world-population/us-population/
3. Female 50.8%, white 76.5
https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/fact/table/US/RHI525218#RHI525218

4. 46.7 % aged 35-44 have an associates degree or higher https://www.census.gov/content/dam/Census/library/publications/2016/demo/p20-578.pdf

5.Play a musical instrument 10% https://www.statista.com/statistics/352204/number-of-people-play-musical-instrument-usa/

6.Member of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints 2%
https://billingsgazette.com/news/state-and-regional/montana/montana-wyoming-among-states-with-highest-concentration-of-mormons/article_611a4e07-e710-5199-a748-f656dd2e15d2.html#:~:text=Nationally%2C%20Mormons%20account%20for%20only,religious%20group%20in%20the%20U.S.

7. Have 3 or more kids per family .84%  https://www.statista.com/statistics/183790/number-of-families-in-the-us-by-number-of-children/

8.  Infant mortality rate in the US is 5.8 deaths per 1000 births.  (.0058%)
https://www.cdc.gov/reproductivehealth/maternalinfanthealth/infantmortality.htm#:~:text=About%20Infant%20Mortality,-Infant%20mortality%20is&text=In%202017%2C%20the%20infant%20mortality,the%20United%20States%2C%202017).

9. Hashimoto's  https://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/condition/hashimoto-thyroiditis#:~:text=Hashimoto%20thyroiditis%20affects%201%20to,be%20related%20to%20hormonal%20factors.

10.Officers Down memorial page for the US 2020 https://www.odmp.org/search/year/2020

Lessons learned on the taco hike

One of my favorite things to do is to go explore amazing places, and so that's what we did over Memorial Day Weekend.  Some of my children, however, do not love to hike and explore.  One in particular often just wishes to go home.  When he was younger and we took our family to Disneyland, he asked multiple times each day "Can't we just go back to the hotel?"  He much prefers relaxed vacationing with air conditioning and TV and computer games and not walking all day long.  And he can make hiking somewhat miserable, especially if his attitude catches on.  Attitudes often are contagious and can set the tone for whatever comes next.

Don't believe it?  If I make a new food and one of the older kids tries it and starts talking about how good it is, the other kids are eager to dive in.  Conversely, if the first one to take a bite tells everyone how terrible it is, then the entire crew becomes reluctant to eat it.  Anyone with a somewhat large family has probably experienced this phenomenon.

So...we'd been hiking for most of the morning and early afternoon, and were getting ready to go home, but I wanted to check out one more area.  It was my birthday, so Scott reminded the kids that they should allow mom this indulgence and come along.  That didn't mean that they'd come along without complaint, though.

Then something changed.  We saw a sign that said "taco".  Apparently in Castle Rock State Park (in Idaho) there's a rock called "taco".  (Although we didn't know it was a particular rock formation, we just saw the sign that said "taco".)  Having never been to this state park before, and visitors centers being closed because of Covid 19, we had no map and not any great ideas of which area we ought to explore first, and so we had just picked a random trail and headed out.  I had done some research on the other places we were going, but never got around to researching this park, and we just figured we'd give it a whirl to see if it was worth returning on another trip.

After seeing the sign that said taco, we clearly knew we had to follow it.  What if it was a HUGE taco right in the middle of the rock formations?  What if there was a "free taco" taco stand as a reward for arriving at our destination?  Our purpose changed from wandering around with just a hope of seeing something cool to discovering what "taco" actually was, what it meant, where it led.  We joked about there being a random taco stand in the middle of nowhere, or a magical taco witch who granted you tacos in return for favors, or who gave you tacos to fatten you up.  Every time we saw another sign that said "taco", we got excited and joked a little more about where it might go and where it might lead us.

 Funny enough, we didn't even really know that we'd gotten there.  Shortly after going past this little tree in between these rocks, we encountered what seemed like a dead end.  We found a big rock with a small cave and the trail ended and we weren't sure if that was taco or not.  We didn't see anyone else that we could ask, so we headed back, and looked it up when we got home.

Here's everyone on the way out.  Notice the teenager in the red shirt?  He was hiding behind the baby in the first group picture which was taken on the way towards taco (before we had encountered any signs which said "taco").  He's my non hiker.  This picture was taken after we'd actually enjoyed the hike, and he's truly smiling.  (He totally adores his baby sister, by the way.  I held her part of the hike because she prefers mom, but he was more than willing to take her when my arms got tired.)

On the way back, I took these two fun pictures of the baby.  She loved looking at herself in the reflection of Scott's glasses.  She'd get right up in his face and laugh and make faces at herself in the reflection. 

Really, in hindsight, the hike itself would have been the same whether we'd have been enthusiastic or not.  We'd have seen the same things, smelled the same air, been with the same people.  It all changed though once we had a destination and were united about it.  The joking, laughing, positivity, excitement, curiosity, and enthusiasm are what made it fun and memorable.  My 4 year old decided her favorite thing about our vacation was hiking to a rock called "taco".

I keep thinking about this, about how our journey can be miserable or delightful depending on what we're looking for and if we choose to enjoy it or not.  I twisted my ankle a little bit, and I could've let that ruin it for me, but I kept on walking and enjoying the kids and their senses of humor.  I could've been angry at my teenager for having a bad attitude, and could have spent much of the time lecturing him about choosing to be positive.  Instead we kept going and then found something to enjoy, and once we all started laughing and imagining, he caught on and had fun too. I enjoyed watching the baby with my husband and with her big brothers.  I enjoyed that even the 4 year old thought the idea of hiking to a taco sounded great, and that she loves to hold hands with someone nearly the entire time she hikes.

Some life lessons that I've been reminded of by our hike yesterday:
1. Have a destination.  Aimless wandering will get you somewhere, but is it where you wanted to go?  Did you know you wanted to get there?  A sense of purpose makes most things so much more enjoyable.
2. Have a good team that works together.  Not everyone is going to be able to travel with the same grace or skill.  Some of us can walk, some have to be carried.  Some like hiking, some don't.  Some have little legs, some have long legs.  Because multiples of us carried the baby, no one of us had arms that got overwhelmingly sore.  Because several of us started joking, it caught on.  If one person sets the pace, most of the others will keep up.  So have a good team, and strengthen your team, and help your team members who struggle.
3. Sometimes (not always) ignoring someone who has opinions that differ from yours is a far better choice than trying to talk them out of it.  Maybe they'll catch on and change their tune.  Maybe not.  But often trying to talk someone into feeling the same way as you do just makes you both upset.
4. Find the good.  Maybe it's as simple as finding humor in a situation.  Maybe it's looking for the silver lining, the lessons learned, or the calm in the storm.  There IS good, though, if you look for it, and if you dwell on it instead of the bad, your journey will be so much more joyful than if you choose to focus on not liking it or wishing you were somewhere else instead.  The SAME exact journey changes immensely with a change in attitude.
5. Take some time to reflect.  I am often surprised when I look at the different experiences in my life through different lenses.  I can see God's hand when I look in the right way.  I can see myself growing and learning and changing, and I learn so many beautiful life lessons as I take a few minutes to ponder situations and experiences and try to glean what I can from them.

For the record, there is no magical taco witch.  Or taco stand.  Or giant taco. But if you have the right attitude, the hike (and potentially the climb on the rock too, if you're prepared with gear and knowledge of how to use it) is worth it anyway.

Easter thoughts

As I began to think about my feelings on Easter, and what to say and how to share them, I think my first thoughts were questioing and cynical. What can I say about the Savior that hasn't already been said? What can I say about Easter that hasn't already been said?

Do you ever sometimes feel like church, fasting, and life is just going through the motions? Does it ever feel repetitive and meaningless? Why do we do the same things over and over again?

I have fasted and prayed many times before, and each time it was a different experience with differing levels of the spirit present. I hoped that Friday's worldwide fast would be intensely spiritually uplifting, and physically not as taxing as it was. But I really struggled with it. Of the times I've attempted to fast, I feel like this was one of my weaker--my head hurt more, my body felt tireder, and I couldn't keep myself warm. I wanted to be filled with the spirit of hope, but largely I felt frustrated that I was struggling so much. How could I be fasting for a miracle for the world when my own body felt like it couldn't handle it? Was my fast good enough, even though I had to stop early? Is it good enough even if I wasn't able to spend as much time focusing on spiritual things because I was too busy taking care of day to day things? Was it Ok even though I had a really hard time with it?

In the last conference, Sister Joy D Jones shared a conversation that she and several children had with President Nelson in which he said:

"Of course it's hard. Everything to do with becoming more like the Savior is difficult. For example, when God wanted to give the Ten Commandments to Moses, where did He tell Moses to go? Up on top of a mountain, on the top of Mount Sinai. So Moses had to walk all the way up to the top of that mountain to get the Ten Commandments. Now, Heavenly Father could have said, 'Moses, you start there, and I'll start here, and I'll meet you halfway.' No, the Lord loves effort, because effort brings rewards that can't come without it. For example, did you ever take piano lessons? ...What happens if you don't practice?"

Pearl: “You forget.”

President Nelson then responded.

“Yes, you don’t progress, do you? So the answer is yes, Pearl. It takes effort, a lot of hard work, a lot of study, and there's never an end. That's good! That's good, because we're always progressing. Even in the next life we're making progress."

The Lord loves effort.  Did I make an effort?  Yes.  I am trying and that is what counts.  And I keep trying every day.  As Elder Holland pointed out in a talk in April 2016

"When there was a controversy in the early Church, regarding who was entitled to heaven's blessings and who wasn't, the Lord declared to the Prophet Joseph Smith, 'Verily I say unto you [the gifts of God] are given for the benefit of those who love me and keep...my commandments, and [for them] that seeketh so to do.'  Boy, aren't we all thankful for that added provision 'and...seeketh so to do'!  That has been a lifesaver because sometimes that is all we can offer!  We take some solace in the fact that if God were to reward only the perfectly faithful, He wouldn't have much of a distribution list."

On Friday, I was under the category “seeketh so to do”.  I tried hard to fast. That matters.

Going through the motions, whether it's fasting, going to seminary, reading the scriptures, saying our prayers, attending church, taking the sacrament, or any other host of repeated tasks we do to enrich our spirits could be likened to breathing. Just because I do it thousands of times a day, does it make it meaningless or unimportant? How about eating? Just because we eat every day, multiple times a day doesn't mean it doesn't count, and it doesn't mean we don't need the food.

In the example President Nelson gave, where the Lord commanded Moses to go up Mount Sinai, do you think after 1387 steps, Moses decided "I've been putting one foot in front of the other over and over again, and nothing has happened, so this really doesn't count.  Why am I even doing this?"  Maybe he did think that.  But still he kept stepping until he got to where the Lord needed him to be.

Well, what does this all have to do with Easter? Easter is a celebration of Christ overcoming death and sin. He felt every pain. We learn in Mosiah 3:7 that His experience was so difficult and painful that if a mere mortal would have had to endure it, they'd have died. The Come Follow Me manual suggests two questions: Why did He suffer? and What does it mean for me?

When man fell, we lost our ability to be in God's presence. Our bodies are mortal, our flesh is weak and we struggle to keep up with its demands, needs, and desires. As evidenced simply by fasting, it takes a lot of effort just to stay alive. And sometimes we feed the wrong desires or passions and we make mistakes, and we grow further away from God. On our own, there simply was no way for us to return and overcome.

Christ didn't just build a bridge so we could get back to Heavenly Father, He IS the bridge back to Heavenly Father.  He suffered so He could become that bridge.  And that means now I have a way back home.  He also suffered so that He could understand all of us, so He would know how to comfort us, inspire us, and help us keep going on our long journey to our own personal Mount Sinai, as we try to get to where the Lord wants us to be.

Is it hard to get to where we are supposed to go?  Yes.  Are we going to endure tragedy?  Obviously, yes.  Spencer W. Kimball in his talk "Tragedy or Destiny" said 

"Being human, we would expel from our lives physical pain and mental anguish and assure ourselves of continual ease and comfort, but if we were to close the doors upon sorrow and distress, we might beexcluding our greatest friends and benefactors.  Suffering can make saints of people as they learn patience, long-suffering, and self-mastery.

If we looked at mortality as the whole of existence, then pain, sorrow, failure, and short life would be calamity.  But if we look upon life as an eternal thing stretching far into the premortal past and on into the eternal post-death future, then all happenings may be put in proper perspective."

Even though I am not a big fan of this pandemic, I think it has begun to make saints of people.  And although I fasted for relief from Covid 19 and that life will return to normal, I suspect that we still have many steps on our journey before it's over.  But Christ felt all this pain.  And He overcame death, so all this death and dying is not the end.  All these people have left mortality, but because of Christ, they will rise again in perfect, healthy bodies.

I've mentioned before that I've been very afraid since the beginning of the pandemic.  I don't want to have to bury any more family members.  The longer this goes on, the more likely it seems that this very thing may happen.  It scares me still, but I keep being reminded that death is not the end.  It hurt so badly to bury Gideon.  It still hurts to know that he's not here, that I don't know what his favorite children's book is or what his favorite food would be.  But I  feel beautiful joy knowing that I will get to know him and spend time with him when he is resurrected.  And he will be resurrected, we all will be, because of the Savior.

Over and over again, we are told to "remember".  It is in the sacrament prayers.  We are to always remember Him.  It's easy to go through the motions and forget why we do them.  Easter is an especially good time to stop and truly remember Him and appreciate Him.  Just because the truth of His redemption and resurrection has been discussed before doesn't make it any less true, and it doesn't make it any less important.  Just like this breath is no less important than the one I took 10 seconds ago, or the one I'll take 10 seconds from now.  Continuing to breathe (mundane as it may be, repetetive as it may be) is pretty important.  Continuing to do the things that allow the atonement to work in our lives is also important, and part of that work is done as we choose to remember Him, over and over again, just like breathing.  And as we put forth our efforts, even if they're less than perfect or don't turn out how we hope.  The Lord loves effort and He loves us, and we need to remember that.