Burdens and blessings and balance

For the last few days, I've pondered what I could do and change in my life as we roll into a new year and a new decade.  One thing that I definitely think I'm learning, but need to continue developing is the way I view many of the critical components of my life.

Having a big family is not without its share of responsibilities.  It's often overwhelming and frequently frustrating, but there are also many moments where it's excessively exciting and fabulous fun.  These moments all can even happen at once, as children are figuring out the world, want to be independent, they can say and do the darndest things.  For example: during holiday baking, I decided to let my younger kids help me, I even let them crack the eggs...and there were some messy failures and they were worried I'd be angry, but I told them I knew what I was getting into when I let them take a chance at learning, and we talked about how they could've done it differently and we cleaned it up.  It was fun and exciting and overwhelming and frustrating all at one time, but it was part of our learning journey.

I was wondering about ways to lighten my burdens, and I had an epiphany.  Many of the things that I view as burdens are simultaneously blessings in my life too.  My family.  Paying bills.  A job.  Responsibilities I have in my church calling.  Home responsibilities.  Every single one of these things feels like a big burden, but each one of these things is also an immense blessing if I choose to look at it that way. 

When I was pregnant with Gideon, I kind of thought he'd be my last baby.  However I had a massive change in my heart when I learned that we were most likely going to lose him.  For that one week, I treasured the time, not just with him but with all my children and my husband.  Every minute I got to spend, each song I got to sing to him, each laugh I shared, the few snuggles I got to give, they were (and still are) a pearl of great price to me.  My attitude about my kids shifted from focusing on them as an overwhelming burden to an overwhelming blessing.  That is partly why, since Gideon passed away, we have had 2 more.  I honestly don't know that we would have chosen to do so minus that metamorphosis.  The change doesn't so much lie in how much time and effort it takes to raise them well, but in my viewing that time spent as a privilege rather than just a price to pay.

And this week, I've realized that I can re-balance my attitude about more things than just my children.  My responsibilities in other areas of life can also be given a sense of wonder and gratitude and I can learn to value them as blessings, rather than burdens.  I'm grateful to have a small part time job.  I'm grateful for my husband's job, even when it's somewhat demanding.  I'm grateful for this home.  I'm grateful for enough clothing that I have to do so much laundry.  I can even be grateful for the aches and pains I experience, because I've experienced healthy moments and will experience healthy moments again.  Blessings, not burdens.  That's the change I want to make in my life going forward.

Loss is still changing me

I was talking to someone about how you feel when you are very first given the news that someone you love is in the hospital, especially when their life is in danger.  It hurts, it's terrifying, in some ways it feels like everything freezes the moment the news breaks.  I remember feeling like it was wrong, 100% wrong for the whole world to continue turning when mine had just spun off its axis like that.  How could people continue going to work?  How could I carry on with life?  I'm sure anyone who's experienced a sudden tragedy, a death, an accident, an illness that really stopped them in their tracks can relate with that feeling.  Just for a few days, couldn't the entire world stop while I came to grips with what was going on?  Some days, I still wish the world could stop turning again, just to give me a minute to think, to feel, to remember, to not rush on with him gone.

A few months ago, a friend of mine received the horrifying news that her oldest son (in his early 20s) had passed away.  He had a genetic condition that was related to the health problems that caused his death, but it was still unexpected.  She is a therapist herself, and it has been so eye opening to me to see her post about the trauma and stress that she has experienced and that she's able to recognize in her life as a result of losing a child.  Her openness has helped me to realize that some of my issues are pretty normal for a parent coping with loss. 

Nightmares have become a huge part of my life since Gideon passed away.  I can't tell you the number of times I've had a dream where I watch one of my children drown or fall off a cliff since he passed away.  I have come to terms with the loss of my child, but my head and heart are terrified that I'll ever have to face the tragedy of losing a child again.  

My heart shatters with people I know if I hear that one of their children has died.  It hurts so much and I feel my own pain all over again as I sympathize with them.  I have shed tears with every friend of mine who has lost a child since I lost mine, whether they have known it or not.  

I still miss the milestones.  I miss him on his birthday, and on holidays.  I miss him when my other kids have their special moments: when we celebrate them getting A's, or at recitals or soccer games, or when they participate in their firsts.  The memories are something I did not get enough of, and I long for more.

I have a harder time now when my children leave my sight, to go to school or other places without me.  That sounds a little weird, but it is true, I'm afraid to lose them, I'm afraid to hurt again.

And both pregnancies I've experienced since Gideon's have been filled with far more anxiety than my earlier pregnancies were.  I am still eager for each ultrasound, but I'm also a little terrified that they'll find a problem that is life threatening and I'll have to endure it all again.

It's a rough road, it's definitely bittersweet.  There are a lot of things in my life that are harder since losing a child.

However, like the sky after a thorough rainstorm, there are some things that are clearer and more beautiful in my life as well.  And if all I did was talk about the negatives, I wouldn't be acknowledging the beautiful blessings I've experienced since Gideon passed away.

Along with the terror and fear of losing my children has come a sense of treasuring who they are and the moments that I have with them.  I'm grateful for the perspective that reminds me to love and treasure these moments, especially now that I have teenagers and a preteen who have quite the delightful temperament at times.  It helps me cope with this difficulty and at the end of the day, I can still hug them and sincerely love them, despite their occasional abrasive nature.

Along with the fear in the pregnancy came a realization of the miracle that a healthy human baby is.  When Miriam cried out in the hospital, I shed tears of joy, because this child could breathe, she could cry.  And even though a crying baby is no fun, I appreciated the fact that her lungs were that developed, and that she didn't have to spend time in the NICU.

The milestone days are hard, they are.  I want to know who he would be, so badly I wish I knew him better.  Again, though, this has taught me not to take the chances to get to know people for granted.  We live in a world where we're often very preoccupied by screens and not reality.  And I'm still guilty of spending too much time in those arenas too.  But I love the chance to have a sincere heart-to-heart with ANYONE, but especially my own family members, because all people are precious, and I am so grateful when I get to make those kind of real human connections.

There's nothing good about nightmares.  I can't think of a silver lining on that one.  I don't think I learn much from them, except to be grateful when I wake up and realize that I'm alive, my children and husband are OK.  But most of us have experienced that after a nightmare, I don't think I am the only one.  They're not fun.

I have also realized that, though the world never stops turning for anyone or anything, moments count.  Any moment can be precious if it's treated that way, made to be precious, and made to count.  Pictures capture moments, and I'm so grateful for the technology that allowed us to take pictures in the hospital and to remember the few moments we did have with Gideon, and for the memories I can capture and review through photographs or videos now and in the future.

Many people are absolutely baffled that I am pregnant again.   I honestly hate being pregnant.  It makes me so sick, it's uncomfortable, it's stressful, and I like my normal body so much better.  This is actually my 8th pregnancy, we had a miscarriage before I was pregnant with Gideon.  And I fully own that I'm at least a little crazy for doing this so many times, especially since I don't love it.  However, after Gideon's loss, I came to realize that, at least for me, raising a child is easier than burying one.  I love being a mother, even though it's incredibly hard.  Watching my children grow up, taking the moments to hold those babies and toddlers and to teach them, nothing else comes close to that experience.  Each human life is its own miracle, and my desire to participate in that miracle only grew as I felt and continue to feel the loss of my little boy.  Believe it or not, I actually thought Gideon was going to be the "caboose" in our family.  The changes my heart experienced definitely opened up my heart to the possibility and desire of having more children after we buried him.  The little girl we added to our family after Gideon brought so much joy into our family, and gave our waiting arms a chance to hold and love a little one, which we had TRULY felt like we missed.  Sometimes I feel a little bit bad for the children I had before Gideon's loss, because I didn't love and treasure their babyhood as much as I have after burying him and wishing he was here to cuddle and love.

I don't explain that because I think everyone who loses a baby should feel what I have felt, nor do I explain it because I am trying to talk anyone into dealing with things the way I have.  I don't expect anyone or everyone else to react to loss in the same way that I did.  Nobody should feel bad for deciding that, after a loss, they can't do it again and put themselves through the possibility of more pain.  Not everyone who loses a child will want to have more children after that, and that's OK.  Another thing I have realized and continue to be very aware of is that everyone's experience with loss is NOT THE SAME, and, as people, we have to allow grief to happen and heal in whatever way works for each individual.  Even my own husband and I do not always feel grief at the same level, at the same time, or always completely understand what the other one is thinking or feeling as we've journeyed through grief.  Even though many of our experiences with his loss were shared, we still don't feel exactly the same about everything.

One HUGE thing I've learned from this journey through the loss of my sweet boy is that life is such a different experience for each of us, and we can't expect any solution to be "one size fits all".  In our very polar world, many political parties assume that their "answers" should fit each and every person in the world.  I do agree that there are some rights and truths that should be universally applied to ALL people, but I think too often, we expect that one solution, one method will work for everyone.  We are all on such a different road, with different experiences and education, with different perspectives and power, with different abilities and gifts, that we have got to stop expecting everyone to have the same opinion as we do, or to do things the same way we would do them.  It is OK for us to realize that we are all on our own journey, and to appreciate the learning and perspective we can gain from each other, without having to agree on how its done.  Life and perspective is a blessing we so often take for granted, and I am grateful to have so many friends and family who don't see things in the same way as I do, but who have loved me and allowed me to be me through this journey.  I'm sure a few friends and family have wondered about me having more kids, about why I've shared my feelings, about why faith in God is so vital to me, but I appreciate that, despite our differences, they have let me share my perspective and been respectful, even if they don't agree. 

I'll share one last thought about something I've learned and am still sorting out how to deal with.  Each person who lives has so much potential to change the lives of the people around them.  Even my little Gideon, who only lived for a week, has massively impacted my life and the lives of people in my family.  How much more impact should I be able to have, having been alive over 1000 times longer than he?  I think those of us who are still so blessed to be alive often don't realize our potential to make the world better.  Feeling the impact of a human being who only lived a week has made me realize that my own impact could be so much greater, and that all people have an amazing potential to enlighten and uplift others, whether we seize the potential or not.  I'm not constantly motivated (because, really, who is?!) but I have noticed that since he died, I want to use that potential more and more. 

I keep on learning from loss, I keep growing and changing.  It's hard, painful growth, like when muscles break down and rebuild themselves stronger and better.  Superman said "No pain, no gain" and there's much wisdom in that.  

Saltness

Before anyone reads this, it will be helpful for you to understand a few things about me.  First, I'm not a scriptorian, at least not yet.  I hope to get better and do better, but right now, I'm still learning and I don't remember everything I learn.  I do love what I feel and what I learn when I do invest the time in the scriptures, though. Second, I believe that there was life before this life, and there is life after this life.  I believe we lived with our Heavenly Father as His spirit children before we came to Earth as part of our learning journey, and that the journey will continue afterward.  And third, I love words.  I enjoy poetry, I enjoy writing, I like learning about how words and sayings came to be, and I tend to notice spelling and grammatical errors or peculiarities.

So I was reading in Mark 9 a few days ago, and I noticed something I'd never seen before.  I've heard the "salt of the earth" scripture quoted many times, and the idea of "salt losing its savor" makes sense to me.  But the way it's worded in Mark 9 made me think about this in a whole new way.  Verse 50 says "Salt is good: but if the salt have lost his saltness, wherewith will ye season it? Have salt in yourselves, and have peace one with another."

Saltness?!  What an unusual way of putting it.  I started to think about how adding "ness" to the end of any word basically characterizes how it what it is.  "Superheroness" would be what makes a superhero super.  "Katie-ness" would be what makes me who I am.  And that thought stopped me and led to my next epiphany. 

So the Savior has been talking to His apostles about being better, doing better, choosing to "cut off" parts that are keeping them from their divine potential.  In Matthew 5, when He gives the sermon on the mount, He's explaining to everyone how to be their best selves, a higher and holier way.  But I never thought of this as being 100% true to the "ness" of who we ARE, not who we are right now here on Earth, but who we always have been.  If salt loses its saltness, it has ceased to be what it is.  If we each individually lose our "ness", we cease to be who we truly are, who we were destined to be, who we TRULY are and would be proud to have become.

It is such a beautiful, but perhaps not the most obvious way of telling each one of us, "Don't lose who you are.  Don't let go of the true you, who you really are and have been.  Hold onto yourself and have peace one with another." 

I just loved this whole concept.  It makes the idea of living righteously seem so much easier to me (not that it suddenly becomes easier to get my family ready for church or takes less time to study scriptures) but instead of feeling like I'm reaching for something I'm not, it feels like I'm reaching for something that I truly AM. 

By their fruits

Of course, I really detest all crime, but one of the criminal behaviors that does not make a lot of sense to me is vandalism.  Why in the world would anyone destroy something that someone else created...just for the love of destruction?  I know that sometimes it may be "innocent" (as in when a toddler knocks down a block tower, or paints nail polish all over the place when trying to make things beautiful), but when an adult with full understanding and comprehension destroys something, I just don't understand the motivation at all.

I have started to look at the different news stories where I see senseless destruction and apply it in new and different ways, particularly as it applies to building up or tearing down other people.  It has gotten to the point where I don't understand the senseless destruction that I now see around me every single day.

"By their fruits, ye shall know them" is a phrase often quoted among Christians, and a phrase I have realized that I have taken for granted in my life.  (Matthew 7:20)  This scripture (and more importantly its message) is one that I wish were taken seriously by all of humanity, not just Christians.

Over the last few months, there have been two separate weeks when I have given up social media for a week.  Each week felt like a long time, because I really love connecting with old friends and family that I rarely see, even if it's just in small ways--a picture, a funny moment, a favorite recipe they tried or want to try.  I missed the funny videos and gifs; I enjoy a good distraction just like anyone does.  I did not miss the derogatory comments, the negative and "debbie downer" type posts, or the political battles that are so often present there.  Sometimes I think about giving it up completely, just to avoid the destruction that I see tossed out like confetti.

 

However, I truly love the miracle of the positive influence a person can have on another.  I have been on either side of this very miracle at many different times in my life.  I know that a good person in the right place, at the right time, with the right inspiration can literally be a life saver.  I love the opportunities social media gives me to reach out to those who may need it, and I love that I can ask for help or prayers and have hundreds of friends sending positive thoughts or prayers my way.  Conversely, people have the power to destroy.  And I see so much destruction when I go on social media.  I do see good too, and that's what I love, but I am becoming increasingly horrified at the amount of awful, unkind, and destructive things that people say to each other when they are on the internet.

I've shared this Indian proverb before, but it ties in with my thoughts, so I'll share it again.

One evening, an elderly Cherokee brave told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.  “My dear one, the battle between two ‘wolves’ is inside us all. One is evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego.  The other is good. It is: joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.”  The grandson thought about it for a moment and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf wins?”  The old Cherokee replied, “The one you feed.”

You don't have to be a Christian to believe that good and evil influence everyone.  Because I am a Christian, it influences my writing, my behavior, and my actions, and I share my thoughts because I think others can benefit from them, whether or not you see eye to eye with me on Christianity or any other issues.  Several scriptures explain that Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father are great creators (Isaiah 40:28, John 1:3, Hebrews 11:3), while Satan is a destroyer (Exodus 12:23.)  Jesus Christ represents truth, light and love (John 15:9-11, John 8:12), while Satan represents darkness, deception, and hate.  (Revelation 12:9, 2 Nephi 2:18). 

None of this is news to anyone, whether you are Christian or not--it's pretty basic summary of some basic beliefs of Christianity.  But here's a thing that so many people have forgotten: by their fruits ye shall know them.  Sometimes people start out thinking they are on the right path--for example, a person who is doing their best to go to church each Sunday and read their scriptures, and then spend so much time belittling others who don't see things the way they do or judging others for not being as good as they are, that their fruits become judgement, destruction, and hate--none of which truly embody what Christ represents.

Like the Pharisees that lived during the time of Christ, who professed to know, believe, and understand the scriptures in deeper and better ways than the "unlearned and unclean" people all around them, some Christians get a little high and mighty and distracted in their ways.  The Pharisees couldn't recognize the actual Savior when He was in front of them, because they were so busy nitpicking details and looking for proof that He was a blasphemer that they couldn't see His fruits: His miracles, His spirit, the way people feel when they truly listen to His words.  The pharisees destroyed good people, turned good people away from the desire to know and understand the scriptures because their fruits became criticism, excessive judgement, attention to the tiniest details without paying attention to the big things, and loftiness. 

I truly hope that people don't take away that I think all Christians are comparable to Pharisees: that is not my intent at all.  I know so many people (Christian and not) who truly do their best to share truth in kind and loving ways, to help others for good, to create happiness and a better world.  The POINT is that we need to be aware of what our fruits are. 

Whether you are Christian or not, whether you are Republican or Democrat, if you say things that are destructive and hateful, you are feeding the wrong wolf.  As a Christian, if you judge others, if you are pious and lofty and critical, then you truly are being more like a Pharisee than a humble follower of the Savior.  If you say things with the intent to educate, to help people think and understand, to build, to create, to help people to be happier, and to add light to the world, then you are feeding the right wolf. (And if you're a Christian, THOSE are the true fruits of those who follow the Savior.)

The idea behind this post is perhaps wasted, since most people who read my blog are already trying hard to feed the right wolf, to make the world better. But maybe it'll reach one or two people and make them think before they say something.  Maybe it'll save a life.  Maybe it'll get someone thinking.  Maybe...

 

Grateful in any circumstance

A few weeks ago, I was able to speak in church with a young lady who had recently returned from serving a mission in my church. I was one of the leaders in our youth group many years ago, and now she is an adult, and asked if I would mind sharing some of my thoughts and feelings, as she shared what she had learned and experienced while serving a mission. Since it was around Thanksgiving time, my heart turned both to thoughts of happiness and gratitude. This post is mostly what I said during that talk, as well as accompanying thoughts.

In April 2014, when I was pregnant with Gideon, we had general conference in which the apostle Dieter F. Uchtdorf gave a talk called Grateful in Any Circumstance, which helped us immensely through the difficult process of finding a new normal as we lived with the grief of losing a child. Its message was timely, what we would need in the coming months. We didn’t know how much we would rely on this talk, but it has become such a treasure to Scott and I. There are many words of wisdom in it's pages, and I still frequently read it and find ways to be more happy because of it.

"I believe that all of us experience times when the very fabric of our world tears at the seams, leaving us feeling alone, frustrated, and adrift. It can happen to anyone. No one is immune."

I am currently serving in Young Women’s in my ward in Syracuse, and recently gave a lesson about spiritual self-reliance. No-one is immune to challenges. Being prepared with a treasure chest full of spiritual resources--quotes, favorite scriptures, songs, or hymns that can help one feel the spirit and feel the Savior’s love is a fabulous way to try and be prepared for whatever lessons are coming at you through difficult circumstances ahead. Even if a person does not believe in religion or being spiritual, having a treasure chest full of confidence, wise words from great books, and good friends and family can help a person to be more ready for the curve balls that life will inevitably throw at them.

"It might sound contrary to the wisdom of the world to suggest that one who is burdened with sorrow should give thanks to God. But those who set aside the bottle of bitterness and lift instead the goblet of gratitude can find a purifying drink of healing, peace, and understanding."

Elder Uchtdorf challenged us to be grateful not just for blessings, but for situations and circumstances, and that we make gratitude something that is a part of who we are.

"Could I suggest that we see gratitude as a disposition, a way of life that stands independent of our current situation? In other words, I’m suggesting that instead of being thankful for things, we focus on being thankful in our circumstances--whatever they may be."

For a few years, I had a calling that was very terrifying to me--I played the piano for stake choir. It was an incredibly intimidating calling for me, but I learned so much from it. I knew that there were people who had much more musical skill than I did, and sometimes wondered why I was asked to perform that service, rather than someone more qualified. However, I know that I learned and grew from it, not only musically, but spiritually, and that the Lord put me in places where I could learn what he needed me to learn. In the stake conference following Gideon's passing, we sang a song that made me cry so hard I was nearly shaking at the piano each week. I’m sure if you try to imagine singing the words to this song within a few months of burying your baby, you can understand why it was so meaningful to me. The second verse says “An infant’s smile, a mother’s touch, a sister’s gentle hands. A father guiding childish feet, through shifting treacherous sands. For bonds that cross eternity, for ties that never cease. For such a special family, I thank thee Lord for these.” The chorus says “Oh Lord, anoint mine eyes to see and let my spirit sing and give all thanks to thee. Oh Lord, my heart would sing thy praise, my voice in gladness raise, for all thy hands have made. Until I hear and see and feel thy hand in everything.” This song became such an anthem to me as I sought ways to be grateful, and to see the Lord's hand in the trial I was facing at the time.

The message of that song is exactly what I believe Elder Uchtdorf’s talk is about. We can ask the Lord to help us see his hands in everything, to recognize his goodness, even in our difficult times.

I love to be in control of things in my life. I’m not quite a control freak, but I’m pretty close. Also, I love super heroes--I’m a big fan of most of the Super Hero TV shows and movies that come out. I love the Marvel heroes, and the D.C. heroes, and pretty much all super heroes. Our family has watched “The Flash” together over the last few years, and there’s an episode where one character explains to another “You have 4 rules: 1 Make the plan. 2. Execute the plan. 3. Expect the plan to go off the rails. 4. Throw away the plan.”

Many of the difficult circumstances I find myself in occur when my plan goes off the rails. Most people don’t expect or plan on divorce. We don’t plan on kids getting sick on holidays so we miss time with our extended family. We don’t plan on burying our tiny people. We don’t always plan for the need to relocate, or for losing a job. For me, I particularly resist changes in my life that feel like an ending. Elder Uchtdorf reminds us in this talk that endings don’t feel natural to us as mortal beings because we are made of the stuff of eternity. I really detest the feeling of losing control over my plan. Truly, though, when I have tried to take a step back and acknowledge that the Lord knows more than I do, that the things I’m experiencing will all help me learn and grow if I let them, then instead of doing my plan, I turn the plan over to the Lord and let Him make more out of me than I could have made out of myself.

I’m no artist. I can do music, but cutesy, artsy things are not a gift of mine. So the idea of myself painting a masterpiece is truly ludicrous to me. I can imagine myself starting out with a plan in mind, and then having it “go off the rails”. I’d be all too happy to throw the plan away, hand that paintbrush over to a master, and watch them make it more amazing than I could on my own. And I believe that the Lord is the master--who can make it beautiful and awesome in ways I never could.

It sounds so plain and simple “Just have an attitude of gratitude and ask the Lord for perspective.” This is definitely one of those things that is far easier to talk about than it is to actually put into practice.

I have found many times that when I have asked the Lord for understanding, I haven’t got it. I still do NOT understand so many of the trials I’ve had to face. But I have had a peaceful reassurance that one day I will understand, I will be able to see how much our family has grown from Gideon’s life and death, and in general, that the trials and frustrations will all add up to be a part of a masterpiece that I just can’t comprehend right now.

Elder Uchtdorf put that into these words “In any circumstance, our sense of gratitude is nourished by the many and sacred truths we DO know; that our Father has given His children the great plan of happiness; that through the Atonement of His Son, Jesus Christ, we can live forever with our loved ones; that in the end, we will have glorious, perfect, and immortal bodies, unburdened by sickness or disability; and that our tears of sadness and loss will be replaced with an abundance of happiness and joy ‘good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over.’”

I feel so strongly, even still, that the Lord answers my prayers. Even when Gideon continued to deteriorate, I knew He knew what I truly needed, and what our family truly needed. I still find that I don't have all the answers. I still miss Gideon, I still don't understand all the reasons behind what is happening in my life. Christmas time is hard, as our family spends time together making memories, I miss all the things that could have been: what he would have wanted for Christmas, the look on his face after the first snowfall, building his first snowman. I still hold firm to the faith that I will get to experience these moments with him after he is resurrected, and I am grateful for that faith, and for the plan that allows death to not sting so much.

I know that the Lord is mindful of me, in all the situations I’ve faced. I’ve felt His peace, even as I have lacked understanding. I have found answers many times doing those basic daily tasks “read the scriptures and pray”, but I don’t have all the answers and I know I won’t for a long time. I am so grateful for the answers I do have, though--that God loves me and knows me. That His plan for me and for everyone is truly a plan of happiness. I know that the Savior made it possible for us to be resurrected perfect and whole, and to be forgiven for our failures, our mistakes, and the pain we’ve experienced in this life. I know that my entire family will get to be together one day, and I am grateful to be able to have peace and hope that God has a plan for me that is bigger and better than the one I’d have picked for myself.

No, that boat was never sinking

I learn so much about faith and scriptures and Jesus from teaching children.  Mostly my own, but sometimes other people's children too.  Since this is about my learning journey, not just from grief, but from life, here's a recent moment I had.

A few weeks ago, I had a profound moment of spiritual learning when my 3 year old daughter was looking at the picture of Jesus calming the storm.  If you aren't familiar with that story, it's in the Bible in Mark chapter 4 (which I'll admit, I'm not enough of a scriptorian to know that off the top of my head, I had to look up where to find it.)  My daughter asked me a very simple question "Is the boat sinking?"  And I thought about it for a minute, because the frankness of her question surprised me.  I've never really asked myself "Is the boat sinking?" before.  Hearing the story in hindsight, of course I know that the boat didn't sink, that the Savior calmed the storm, and that everything turned out fine.  However, something in the way she asked the question made me think about it more in present tense--like if I was on the boat, would I think the boat was sinking?  Again, with hindsight, I understand who the Savior is, and that the boat was never in true danger, because the Savior was on the boat.  So it was easy for me to say "No.  That boat isn't sinking.  It's in a big storm, and the people on the boat are afraid it's going to sink, but Jesus is on that boat, so they're safe. And Jesus told the storm to stop, so it did."

 

After I explained it to her, I continued to think about how it must have felt to been on that boat and to wonder "Is the boat sinking?" That conclusion was easy for the Savior's followers to make in the very moments when they were on the boat and the waves were getting higher, and the storm was steadily worsening, and the boat was probably getting harder and harder to steer.  They hadn't seen all His miracles, they didn't understand that He'd conquer death by being resurrected, they didn't understand all the things He had tried to tell them about who He was.  So they truly feared for their lives, lacking the understanding that when the Savior is on the boat with us, we're in no real danger.  

And then I thought about me.  About the figurative boats I've been on, and when it's felt like I'm going to die, like that ship is going down and it's all going to be over for me shortly.  I might look like I have it all together, but anyone who knows what happens on the inside of me knows that I struggle, that I still get dreadfully overwhelmed, and that I have hopeless, intensely frustrated, doubting moments.  There have definitely been times in my life that I thought my figurative ship was going down.  Many of those moments happen when I have forgotten who the Savior really is, and what he's capable of.  And some of those moments were moments when I was probably in the wrong boat, not the one that the Savior is in--and those ships CAN go down.  But as long as I'm in the boat with the Savior, that boat is never sinking. 

So...in a nutshell, her question gave me the inspiration to pause and ask myself whether or not I'm in the boat with the Savior, and what do I need to do to make sure I'm in the right boat, and then what do I need to do to remember who He is and how His ship doesn't ever sink.  

Yes, I still miss him, especially today

So many things in life are cyclical.  The water cycle, the cycle of each year, the patterns of each day.  And because of those cycles, grief still occasionally slams into me and catches me off guard when I don't expect it.  I think grief is like that for many people, especially as certain holidays and traditions cycle around and the memories tied to those traditions are incredibly powerful, and sometimes so is the sadness from realizing that those memories are a thing of the past, not the present; there are no new ones to be created in this life.

Today would have been Gideon's first primary program.  For those of you who aren't familiar with what that means, in congregations of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (aka Mormons) each year the primary children (aged 3-11) prepare songs, scriptures, and short messages to share with the entire congregation in a special meeting.  They spend months preparing for it, learning songs and parts and today they sang, shared their parts, and brought such a beautiful spirit of humanity, life, and faith, and I loved it.  Today, as I heard the children singing "Families Can Be Together Forever", it hit me: the memories of singing that song just days after his death and the pain that I was feeling, the realization that Gideon would have been up there today doing his best to sing the songs and share his part, and the truth of the words "families can be together forever" and a gratitude that he's mine forever, but feeling that loss today and wishing he were here already.

It does get easier, I don't miss him as painfully now all the time as I used to.  Grief is something I have learned to live with and grown accustomed to.  I still think of him every day, but often the thoughts aren't as consuming and heavy as they used to be. 

Today was my reminder that as the cycle of the big holiday season approaches, it's a time of memories, and so it's a time where life can be painful for those who have reasons to miss someone.  It's a good reminder to me to be sensitive to other people, and also a reminder to treasure the chance I have to make memories with the loved ones I have here and now.  Since the beginning of this journey, I have been determined not to let the grief I feel over Gideon's death keep me from living a beautiful life full of other amazing memories with my loved ones and the children I do have here with me.  What an opportunity life gives me EVERY DAY to get to know and love others more deeply and to share time with them.  

Today, I really still missed Gideon, but I'm grateful that his short life continues to help me learn to appreciate my life more, and that I'm able to live mine more fully because of all I still am learning from missing my little boy.  As long as the grief continues, my learning and growing journey continues.