There was a movie in the 1970's called "Oh, God!" starring George Burns as God. He appeared to a mortal (John Denver) and wanted him to tell the world that he, God, was alive and well.
One of the questions he was asked was, "Do you listen to everyone's prayers?"
His answer was something like, "Oh, no, just the ones that mean it."
There is a difference between saying a prayer and praying.
I thought it made sense that God heard only the ones we really mean, the ones prayed "with all energy of heart."
I was surprised when a teacher once asked, "When you pray, do you expect an answer?" At the time, my honest answer was, No, I don't think I do.
Fast forward a few years to a quote I found:
"There is not a single prayer offered by young or by old, offered in times past or in the present, or ever will be offered by any of Heavenly Father's children, that will not be heard and answered in the due time of the Lord." (Author Unknown)
I don't pretend to know how prayer works, but it has ceased to be a stumbling block to me. I'm glad that I've lived long enough to learn that prayers are heard, and answered, --even mine, and that at any given moment we have a Father in heaven anxious to hear from us.
I love what Julie Wang, a convert from Taiwan said.
She said, "I pray like this. I say, 'Hello, God, this is Julie Wang.'
Then I wait, and He says, 'Hello, Julie.'"
It's nice to know there's Someone on the other end of the line.
No time for God?
What fools we are,
To clutter up our lives with common things,
And leave without the Lord of Life.
Take time for God,
Or a poor misshapen thing you'll be
To step into Eternity and say,
'I had no time for Thee.'"
Anonymous
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Tagged
When I realized the list was six things, not four, I about gave up.
I don't think I could do a "100 Things about Me" list!
Without a lot of thought, here goes:
Six Weird Things about Me:
1. I eat rice cakes in bed at night, and if I still can't sleep I have hot apple cider and buttered graham crackers.
2. I don't like to be called "Mrs. Sauter" because I feel like I'm not old enough.
3. I prefer to wash my hair in the sink, not the shower or bathtub.
4. I feel like I'm in the same mood almost all the time.
5. I always wait until the last minute to buy a birthday present.
6. I love mellowcreme pumpkins and think chocolate ruins everything.
(Does admitting I can't ever remember how to spell "weird" count?
Also, I like peanut butter toast with Miracle Whip.)
Six Things that Make Me Happy (right now):
1. Brownies
2. Going places I've never been.
3. Falling asleep on the couch after work.
4. Seeing my grown children be friends.
5. The last 50 pages of a good book.
6. Studying up on a topic.
I did it!
Don't make me deaf with your thunderous applause, please.
I don't think I could do a "100 Things about Me" list!
Without a lot of thought, here goes:
Six Weird Things about Me:
1. I eat rice cakes in bed at night, and if I still can't sleep I have hot apple cider and buttered graham crackers.
2. I don't like to be called "Mrs. Sauter" because I feel like I'm not old enough.
3. I prefer to wash my hair in the sink, not the shower or bathtub.
4. I feel like I'm in the same mood almost all the time.
5. I always wait until the last minute to buy a birthday present.
6. I love mellowcreme pumpkins and think chocolate ruins everything.
(Does admitting I can't ever remember how to spell "weird" count?
Also, I like peanut butter toast with Miracle Whip.)
Six Things that Make Me Happy (right now):
1. Brownies
2. Going places I've never been.
3. Falling asleep on the couch after work.
4. Seeing my grown children be friends.
5. The last 50 pages of a good book.
6. Studying up on a topic.
And, of course, blogging--when I'm in the mood.
I did it!
Don't make me deaf with your thunderous applause, please.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
The Grass IS Greener
Thoughts on my return home:
Florida is skinny.
It takes 2 hours to cross the state; it takes 2 days to cross Texas.
Florida is green.
Texas is brown.
Florida is flat.
Texas is too, but Florida is lush and beautiful.
Florida has lots of water -- seas, gulfs, lakes, bays, inlets, waterways, rivers, everglades, etc.
Texas has a few ugly man-made lakes.
Texas is bordered on one side by the Gulf of Mexico.
Florida is too, but surrounded by the beautiful Atlantic Ocean on the other.
I think there might be more yachts in Florida than there are longhorns in Texas.
My skin loves Florida, but my hair hates it.
I was happy when I lived in Las Vegas, until I drove out of the city. When I realized I was living in a desolate desert, I’d ask myself, Why am I living here?
I’m happy enough living in Texas, but when I saw Florida, I asked myself again, Why am I living here?
Sometimes the grass really is greener on the other side.
In Florida we experienced the four theme parks, resorts and Downtown of Walt Disney World, saw Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center, rode airboats through the Everglades and water taxis through city canals, drove the amazing Florida Keys, 25 degrees from the equator, ate alligator and papaya, saw beach after beach, water park after amusement park, and fun thing after fun thing to see and do.
There’s very little to do in Texas.
If we had kids traveling with us, they would have been endlessly entertained just in the car by counting the number of toll booths on the turnpikes, of license plates from all different states, of foreign languages heard and people met from Canada, alligators and egrets, and even by playing the alphabet game since Florida seems adept at getting those hard letters on their license plates.
Alas, I am home again in Texas.
The grass isn’t green, but it’s home.
And I got to cross a few things off my list of Things I Want to See or Do Before I Die.
Maybe you are green with envy.
Maybe someday you will get to go to Florida, where the grass is green.
Florida is skinny.
It takes 2 hours to cross the state; it takes 2 days to cross Texas.
Florida is green.
Texas is brown.
Florida is flat.
Texas is too, but Florida is lush and beautiful.
Florida has lots of water -- seas, gulfs, lakes, bays, inlets, waterways, rivers, everglades, etc.
Texas has a few ugly man-made lakes.
Texas is bordered on one side by the Gulf of Mexico.
Florida is too, but surrounded by the beautiful Atlantic Ocean on the other.
I think there might be more yachts in Florida than there are longhorns in Texas.
My skin loves Florida, but my hair hates it.
I was happy when I lived in Las Vegas, until I drove out of the city. When I realized I was living in a desolate desert, I’d ask myself, Why am I living here?
I’m happy enough living in Texas, but when I saw Florida, I asked myself again, Why am I living here?
Sometimes the grass really is greener on the other side.
In Florida we experienced the four theme parks, resorts and Downtown of Walt Disney World, saw Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center, rode airboats through the Everglades and water taxis through city canals, drove the amazing Florida Keys, 25 degrees from the equator, ate alligator and papaya, saw beach after beach, water park after amusement park, and fun thing after fun thing to see and do.
There’s very little to do in Texas.
If we had kids traveling with us, they would have been endlessly entertained just in the car by counting the number of toll booths on the turnpikes, of license plates from all different states, of foreign languages heard and people met from Canada, alligators and egrets, and even by playing the alphabet game since Florida seems adept at getting those hard letters on their license plates.
Alas, I am home again in Texas.
The grass isn’t green, but it’s home.
And I got to cross a few things off my list of Things I Want to See or Do Before I Die.
Maybe you are green with envy.
Maybe someday you will get to go to Florida, where the grass is green.
I certainly hope so. It's a beautiful and fun place to go--that is, when there's not a hurricane.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
TTFN
The Travel Bug has bitten and I'm off again. This time for Florida for two weeks and for my very first time. We will do Disney World, visit my long-lost brother-in-law, and drive through the Everglades to Key West. I'm stoked.
Whenever my sister-in-law would leave on one of her many trips, she would leave a note on her fridge telling her children that if anything happened to her, to be sure they got married in the temple. Well, her children, and mine who are married, are all married in the temple. I wonder what she says to them now.
Whether we travel across the country or across town, something could happen to any one of us at any time. What message would we like to leave our loved ones?
I would want to leave a note so my children would know that the Gospel is the most important thing in life, and it is worth every sacrifice in giving it your all.
I do have a sign on my fridge. It says, "You can't fire the cook; slaves must be sold."
No, not that one. It says "Let there be No Empty Chairs in our Heavenly Home."
It would be my hope that my children would be clean and dressed, spotless and in white, and present to share in that heavenly feast.
So, TTFN (ta ta for now), and I hope to see you soon.
If not, then I'll be holding your seat at the table!
Whenever my sister-in-law would leave on one of her many trips, she would leave a note on her fridge telling her children that if anything happened to her, to be sure they got married in the temple. Well, her children, and mine who are married, are all married in the temple. I wonder what she says to them now.
Whether we travel across the country or across town, something could happen to any one of us at any time. What message would we like to leave our loved ones?
I would want to leave a note so my children would know that the Gospel is the most important thing in life, and it is worth every sacrifice in giving it your all.
I do have a sign on my fridge. It says, "You can't fire the cook; slaves must be sold."
No, not that one. It says "Let there be No Empty Chairs in our Heavenly Home."
It would be my hope that my children would be clean and dressed, spotless and in white, and present to share in that heavenly feast.
So, TTFN (ta ta for now), and I hope to see you soon.
If not, then I'll be holding your seat at the table!
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Standards
We just had our stake Young Women basketball tournament. I’m always surprised how many girls come out to play basketball. It’s a sport I have never enjoyed playing; I don’t think any of my girls liked it either.
Maybe I would have like it better if they lowered the standard so I could make more baskets. It was just too high. I have since learned that they almost never lower the standard for any age or circumstance. It is called a standard for a reason: because it is always set at a standard height.
I like that word “standard”. It reminds me of the standards we are supposed to be living. We wish those standards could be lowered to a level that is easier to reach. But those standards never change—not for any age or circumstance. They are Celestial standards; they are God's standards. It is not meant for them to come down to us; it is for us to come up to them.
I love the promises given in the pamphlet, For the Strength of YOUth, to those who try to live the standards:
▪ You will be able to do your life’s work with greater wisdom and skill.
▪ You will feel good about your self.
▪ You will be a positive influence in the lives of others.
▪ Your opportunities and strength will be increased.
▪ Your vision will be expanded.
▪ The Lord will make much more out of your life than you can by yourself.
▪ He will give you the help you need to meet your trials and challenges.
▪ You will have the help of the Holy Ghost.
▪ You will find true joy as you come to know the Lord and feel His love for you.
▪ You will build the Kingdom of God and prepare the world for the Second Coming.
Are the standards set too high?
I don’t think so.
Look at what points we can score.
Look at the Game we can win.
It will take some practice, and some high reaching,
but I’m ready to play.
A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or else what's a heaven for?
Robert Browning
Maybe I would have like it better if they lowered the standard so I could make more baskets. It was just too high. I have since learned that they almost never lower the standard for any age or circumstance. It is called a standard for a reason: because it is always set at a standard height.
I like that word “standard”. It reminds me of the standards we are supposed to be living. We wish those standards could be lowered to a level that is easier to reach. But those standards never change—not for any age or circumstance. They are Celestial standards; they are God's standards. It is not meant for them to come down to us; it is for us to come up to them.
I love the promises given in the pamphlet, For the Strength of YOUth, to those who try to live the standards:
▪ You will be able to do your life’s work with greater wisdom and skill.
▪ You will feel good about your self.
▪ You will be a positive influence in the lives of others.
▪ Your opportunities and strength will be increased.
▪ Your vision will be expanded.
▪ The Lord will make much more out of your life than you can by yourself.
▪ He will give you the help you need to meet your trials and challenges.
▪ You will have the help of the Holy Ghost.
▪ You will find true joy as you come to know the Lord and feel His love for you.
▪ You will build the Kingdom of God and prepare the world for the Second Coming.
Are the standards set too high?
I don’t think so.
Look at what points we can score.
Look at the Game we can win.
It will take some practice, and some high reaching,
but I’m ready to play.
A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or else what's a heaven for?
Robert Browning
Friday, January 26, 2007
Bite-Size Lessons
Today I came across a children’s book called COOKIES - Bite-Size Life Lessons — a book that uses cookies to teach virtues!
I don’t know what I would have thought if I hadn’t chosen the word "Virtues" to focus on this year, but because I did, I thought this book was written just for me.
Here’s a few examples from the book by Amy Krouse Rosenthal:
COOPERATION means “How about you add the chips while I stir?”
PATIENT means waiting and waiting for the cookies to be done. "Aren't I waiting so nicely?"
MODEST means you don’t run around telling everyone you make the best cookies, even if you do.
RESPECT means offering the very first cookie to your grandmother.
PESSIMIST means “How awful how absolutely dreadful I have only half my cookie left."
OPTIMISTIC means “This is great – I still have half my cookie left."
ENVY means “I can’t stop looking at your cookie – it looks better than my cookie. Boy, I wish it were mine."
TRUSTWORTHY means "If you ask me to hold your cookie until you come back, when you come back, I will still be holding your cookie."
COURAGE means "It was not easy for me to tell you that I took the cookie, but I took a deep breath . . .and made the words come out."
WISE means “I used to think I knew everything about cookies, but now I realize I know about one teeny chip’s worth.”
I've found that as I have pondered and tried to implement virtues more consistently in my life, the word that keeps coming to my mind is discipline. Our natural self wants to be selfish, mean, envious and lazy, and it’s hard work to do the opposite. It takes great discipline to be virtuous!
From the same root word comes discipline and disciple. And isn’t that what we are trying to do in being virtuous, to be a disciple of Christ? --To follow Him, to be like Him, so we can live with Him? For a mere mortal, it isn't easy.
Discipline is a virtue in and of itself, but without it there is no virtue at all.
That's my bite-size lesson for today.
Now I think I'll go have a cookie.
I'm trying to be like Jesus. I'm following in His way.
I'm trying to love as He loved, in all that I do and say.
I don’t know what I would have thought if I hadn’t chosen the word "Virtues" to focus on this year, but because I did, I thought this book was written just for me.
Here’s a few examples from the book by Amy Krouse Rosenthal:
COOPERATION means “How about you add the chips while I stir?”
PATIENT means waiting and waiting for the cookies to be done. "Aren't I waiting so nicely?"
MODEST means you don’t run around telling everyone you make the best cookies, even if you do.
RESPECT means offering the very first cookie to your grandmother.
PESSIMIST means “How awful how absolutely dreadful I have only half my cookie left."
OPTIMISTIC means “This is great – I still have half my cookie left."
ENVY means “I can’t stop looking at your cookie – it looks better than my cookie. Boy, I wish it were mine."
TRUSTWORTHY means "If you ask me to hold your cookie until you come back, when you come back, I will still be holding your cookie."
COURAGE means "It was not easy for me to tell you that I took the cookie, but I took a deep breath . . .and made the words come out."
WISE means “I used to think I knew everything about cookies, but now I realize I know about one teeny chip’s worth.”
Aren't those great, simple bite-sized lessons anyone can learn?
Why, then, is it so difficult to do?I've found that as I have pondered and tried to implement virtues more consistently in my life, the word that keeps coming to my mind is discipline. Our natural self wants to be selfish, mean, envious and lazy, and it’s hard work to do the opposite. It takes great discipline to be virtuous!
From the same root word comes discipline and disciple. And isn’t that what we are trying to do in being virtuous, to be a disciple of Christ? --To follow Him, to be like Him, so we can live with Him? For a mere mortal, it isn't easy.
Discipline is a virtue in and of itself, but without it there is no virtue at all.
That's my bite-size lesson for today.
Now I think I'll go have a cookie.
I'm trying to be like Jesus. I'm following in His way.
I'm trying to love as He loved, in all that I do and say.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Will We Know Him?
During a recent Sunday School lesson on the birth of the Savior, I wondered anew: if I had lived at the time of Christ, would I have known who He was?
I'm always a bit unsettled by the popular fictional story of two men who are interviewed about what they know of Jesus Christ, and when a third man is called in, he falls to his knees, recognizing that the interviewer is Jesus.
I've taken some comfort in the thought that if we recognize Him as the Savior now, we probably would have then.
Until today.
My institute teacher suggested that though most members of the Church believe Jesus is the Christ, few really know Him. I fear he's right. I fear lest I be one of them.
As an example, we read Third Nephi 11, where the Risen Christ appears to the prophet-heeding, temple-attending, spared righteous Nephites in America.
Note:
It has been said that this event portends the Lord's Second Coming.
I have to wonder again, will I know Him when He comes?
And, how can I come to know Him now?
And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God,
and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent. John 17:3
I'm always a bit unsettled by the popular fictional story of two men who are interviewed about what they know of Jesus Christ, and when a third man is called in, he falls to his knees, recognizing that the interviewer is Jesus.
I've taken some comfort in the thought that if we recognize Him as the Savior now, we probably would have then.
Until today.
My institute teacher suggested that though most members of the Church believe Jesus is the Christ, few really know Him. I fear he's right. I fear lest I be one of them.
As an example, we read Third Nephi 11, where the Risen Christ appears to the prophet-heeding, temple-attending, spared righteous Nephites in America.
Note:
- After many signs and wonders, there was a voice from heaven. The people didn't understand it until the third time the unknown voice spoke.
- They saw a Man descending out of heaven; they didn't know who it was.
- Jesus identified Himself, and they fell to the earth, for whatever reason.
- He invited each one to feel the nailprints in His hands. Only then did they truly believe it was Him.
- Only then did they shout "Hosannah" which means, God save us now. Did they not understand He had already saved them?
It has been said that this event portends the Lord's Second Coming.
I have to wonder again, will I know Him when He comes?
And, how can I come to know Him now?
And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God,
and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent. John 17:3
Sunday, January 21, 2007
First Anniversary
I cannot let the day end without acknowledging that it's my anniversary. One year ago today my blog was born. Happy Birthday, Blog!
Just for fun, I thought I'd recap my past year, in no particular order:
I wrote 110 blogs.
I got put into a new ward.
I served in the stake Young Women for 16 units spreading into Oklahoma.
I made more money this year than ever before in this job.
I got out of debt, and have kept a tight rein on it.
I helped open a new store for the first time.
I finally got to see Phantom of the Opera on stage.
I worked quilt shows in Utah, Washington, Kansas and Texas.
I became a grandmother for the 9th time.
I got an iPod.
I did a handspring.
I went to a high school reunion for the first time.
I got my first X-Box so I could play DDR.
I learned I have high cholesterol, after being low all my life.
I got my first passport.
I took my first cruise, to places I've never been.
It was the first time my 8 children and their spouses but not their kids got together just for fun.
I went parasailing.
I went to Hawaii where I rode my first helicopter, catamaran, and kayak.
I had my first Christmas morning with no children at home.
I made some new blogging friends.
I reconnected with some very old friends.
Things I did NOT do:
Clean a single closet.
Empty a single box.
Find myself.
But I did a lot of fun things, had a lot of firsts, enjoyed my family, counted my blessings, and got to blog about some of it.
All in all, it was a very good year.
Just for fun, I thought I'd recap my past year, in no particular order:
I wrote 110 blogs.
I got put into a new ward.
I served in the stake Young Women for 16 units spreading into Oklahoma.
I made more money this year than ever before in this job.
I got out of debt, and have kept a tight rein on it.
I helped open a new store for the first time.
I finally got to see Phantom of the Opera on stage.
I worked quilt shows in Utah, Washington, Kansas and Texas.
I became a grandmother for the 9th time.
I got an iPod.
I did a handspring.
I went to a high school reunion for the first time.
I got my first X-Box so I could play DDR.
I learned I have high cholesterol, after being low all my life.
I got my first passport.
I took my first cruise, to places I've never been.
It was the first time my 8 children and their spouses but not their kids got together just for fun.
I went parasailing.
I went to Hawaii where I rode my first helicopter, catamaran, and kayak.
I had my first Christmas morning with no children at home.
I made some new blogging friends.
I reconnected with some very old friends.
Things I did NOT do:
Clean a single closet.
Empty a single box.
Find myself.
But I did a lot of fun things, had a lot of firsts, enjoyed my family, counted my blessings, and got to blog about some of it.
All in all, it was a very good year.
Who can find....?
I am intrigued by Michelle/Ali/Jenn’s idea of choosing one word to focus on this year. I like the idea that instead of working towards (failing at) a goal, you can look to making some progress.
I serve in Young Women and the Mutual theme this year is:
“…let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly…”
We usually think of virtue as chastity, but there are many virtues that make up a good and moral character.
While yet a young man, Benjamin Franklin made a list of thirteen virtues that he felt were an important guide for living. He wrote each virtue on a page in a small book that he kept with him most of his life. He would select one virtue to focus on each week, but every day he checked the entire list to see how he was doing.
When the Lord asks us to let virtue garnish our thoughts unceasingly, surely he meant for all good things to be in our minds and in our hearts continually. Ben Franklin came close to what the Lord had in mind in thinking about virtues every day, and of having a plan to improve them in his life.
President Hinckley has said,
"You may not be a genius. But you can be good, and you can try."
The word I will have on my mind this year is
Maybe that is more than one word. There are many virtues. I've already made a very long list.
Holy writ asks, "Who can find a virtuous woman?"
I hope I can answer, "Right here."
In the hour since I’ve made this decision, I’ve already hit the wall several times and seen how far I am from any ideal or perfection in any virtue. Maybe it will be a year of just magnifying my faults.
Hopefully awareness will lead to improvement.
Certainly trying is a virtue.
If there is anything virtuous, lovely or of good report, we will seek after these things.
I serve in Young Women and the Mutual theme this year is:
“…let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly…”
We usually think of virtue as chastity, but there are many virtues that make up a good and moral character.
While yet a young man, Benjamin Franklin made a list of thirteen virtues that he felt were an important guide for living. He wrote each virtue on a page in a small book that he kept with him most of his life. He would select one virtue to focus on each week, but every day he checked the entire list to see how he was doing.
When the Lord asks us to let virtue garnish our thoughts unceasingly, surely he meant for all good things to be in our minds and in our hearts continually. Ben Franklin came close to what the Lord had in mind in thinking about virtues every day, and of having a plan to improve them in his life.
President Hinckley has said,
"You may not be a genius. But you can be good, and you can try."
The word I will have on my mind this year is
Virtues
Maybe that is more than one word. There are many virtues. I've already made a very long list.
Holy writ asks, "Who can find a virtuous woman?"
I hope I can answer, "Right here."
In the hour since I’ve made this decision, I’ve already hit the wall several times and seen how far I am from any ideal or perfection in any virtue. Maybe it will be a year of just magnifying my faults.
Hopefully awareness will lead to improvement.
Certainly trying is a virtue.
If there is anything virtuous, lovely or of good report, we will seek after these things.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Funerals
Today I went to a funeral. I'm one of those odd ducks that likes funerals. For me it makes it all very real: life, and death.
I heard once that until you face death as a reality--that it really really will happen-- you don't know how to live.
I tried it, and "they" were right. It put into focus for me those things that matter, and those things that really don't.
It is a focus that quickly and easily blurs or fades. We need funerals and weekly sermons to help us get our focus back.
At every funeral a picture is painted of the life of the deceased.
I often wonder if that person could come back and give a rebuttal, what things they would correct, or add, or what emphasis they would change. Unless we write our own eulogy, we don't get to do that.
Most people don't know our inner thoughts, our dreams, our hopes, our wishes. They don't know what we wanted to do but didn't, or what we wished our life could have been. The only thing we leave for people to talk about is what we actually did. I'd rather be known for my good intentions, but that isn't what obituaries are made of.
I sometimes wonder what people will say about me at my funeral. But I don't worry about it.
It seems that no matter how mean you were, or how much of a bum you were, they always find something nice to say.
I heard a guy at his grandmother's funeral pray, God, you'll have your hands full with her. Wasn't that a nice way of saying it?
It's trite but true, most of us don't get out of here alive.
And we really truly don't take much with us.
We won't need a swimming suit or sunscreen for this journey.
I hope we pack what matters.
I heard once that until you face death as a reality--that it really really will happen-- you don't know how to live.
I tried it, and "they" were right. It put into focus for me those things that matter, and those things that really don't.
It is a focus that quickly and easily blurs or fades. We need funerals and weekly sermons to help us get our focus back.
At every funeral a picture is painted of the life of the deceased.
I often wonder if that person could come back and give a rebuttal, what things they would correct, or add, or what emphasis they would change. Unless we write our own eulogy, we don't get to do that.
Most people don't know our inner thoughts, our dreams, our hopes, our wishes. They don't know what we wanted to do but didn't, or what we wished our life could have been. The only thing we leave for people to talk about is what we actually did. I'd rather be known for my good intentions, but that isn't what obituaries are made of.
I sometimes wonder what people will say about me at my funeral. But I don't worry about it.
It seems that no matter how mean you were, or how much of a bum you were, they always find something nice to say.
I heard a guy at his grandmother's funeral pray, God, you'll have your hands full with her. Wasn't that a nice way of saying it?
It's trite but true, most of us don't get out of here alive.
And we really truly don't take much with us.
We won't need a swimming suit or sunscreen for this journey.
I hope we pack what matters.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Stay-at-home Moms
Staying home with small children is often considered a low point in life. We feel slovenly and wasted and unimportant. It's a stage we wish would pass quickly so we can get on with real life.
From my perspective, it is one of the best stages of life, and it makes me sad that so many mothers don't enjoy it while they're in it.
So I started a list of Good Things about Being Home with Kids.
It's a first draft, not polished or complete or even well thought-out, but I'm putting it out there for others to debate or add to.
Feel free. It's a work in progress.
GOOD THINGS ABOUT BEING HOME WITH KIDS
1. You get to be the queen of your own domain, to set up your castle and make the rules, and have loyal, if loud and messy, subjects.
2. Your kids will never be cuter, or more forgiveable.
3. Your kids think you know everything (you will get dumber with age) and that you can fix and do anything.
4. You may be exhausted and dowdy, but you can handle things--referee the fights, heal the wounds, fix broken toys and hearts, etc.
5. Little children are easy to please.
6. You are bigger than they are, so you win.
7. If you think they don’t listen to you now, wait until they’re teenagers.
8. You will never be smarter or wiser, in their eyes or yours.
9. You can put penny candy and dollar junk in their Christmas stockings and they’ll be delighted.
10. You usually know where they are, unless you take them somewhere (except Angela).
11. They may be expensive, but they’ll never be cheaper to feed, clothe or entertain.
12. You can pick them up, hug them tight, hold them on your lap, and even tickle them.
13. They laugh with their whole body.
14. Their eyes light up.
15. They believe what you say.
16. They are reason to buy the newest cold cereal.
17. You are everything to them; soon enough you will be a cipher in the snow, the gum on the bottom of a shoe, so low you will have to look up to see the ground.
18. They leap out of bed in the morning and do much more than be a couch potato.
19. They get excited about things.
20. They’re not too cool to try things.
21. They’ll eat mac and cheese and hot dogs and pbj's and fish sticks.
22. Holidays are way more fun.
23. It takes a lot of their little clothes to make a load of wash.
24. They’re easily entertained.
25. They give you kisses and let you kiss them.
26. You can say no to things you don't want to do b/c of the kids.
27. You are a better person because you have to set the example.
28. You don't have someone else telling you when and what to do, and keeping you from the park or the pool or roller-skating or nothing at all.
29. You get the privilege of living your life for something outside yourself, for others.
30. It's just more fun than just about any other job.
From my perspective, it is one of the best stages of life, and it makes me sad that so many mothers don't enjoy it while they're in it.
So I started a list of Good Things about Being Home with Kids.
It's a first draft, not polished or complete or even well thought-out, but I'm putting it out there for others to debate or add to.
Feel free. It's a work in progress.
GOOD THINGS ABOUT BEING HOME WITH KIDS
1. You get to be the queen of your own domain, to set up your castle and make the rules, and have loyal, if loud and messy, subjects.
2. Your kids will never be cuter, or more forgiveable.
3. Your kids think you know everything (you will get dumber with age) and that you can fix and do anything.
4. You may be exhausted and dowdy, but you can handle things--referee the fights, heal the wounds, fix broken toys and hearts, etc.
5. Little children are easy to please.
6. You are bigger than they are, so you win.
7. If you think they don’t listen to you now, wait until they’re teenagers.
8. You will never be smarter or wiser, in their eyes or yours.
9. You can put penny candy and dollar junk in their Christmas stockings and they’ll be delighted.
10. You usually know where they are, unless you take them somewhere (except Angela).
11. They may be expensive, but they’ll never be cheaper to feed, clothe or entertain.
12. You can pick them up, hug them tight, hold them on your lap, and even tickle them.
13. They laugh with their whole body.
14. Their eyes light up.
15. They believe what you say.
16. They are reason to buy the newest cold cereal.
17. You are everything to them; soon enough you will be a cipher in the snow, the gum on the bottom of a shoe, so low you will have to look up to see the ground.
18. They leap out of bed in the morning and do much more than be a couch potato.
19. They get excited about things.
20. They’re not too cool to try things.
21. They’ll eat mac and cheese and hot dogs and pbj's and fish sticks.
22. Holidays are way more fun.
23. It takes a lot of their little clothes to make a load of wash.
24. They’re easily entertained.
25. They give you kisses and let you kiss them.
26. You can say no to things you don't want to do b/c of the kids.
27. You are a better person because you have to set the example.
28. You don't have someone else telling you when and what to do, and keeping you from the park or the pool or roller-skating or nothing at all.
29. You get the privilege of living your life for something outside yourself, for others.
30. It's just more fun than just about any other job.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
A Piece of Quiet
My new 2007 Mary Engelbreit calendar is called A Piece of Quiet,
and it has quotes each month about rest, repose and relaxation.
I wonder if it could be possible this year.
I thought when my children left home my life would be quiet.
Last year was my busiest year yet, even after two daughters’ weddings the year before.
What kept me so busy?
Work. The business is getting more demanding, but we’re not hiring more people. We opened a new store in Utah for which I did much of the planning, ordering, packing, setting up, and getting it up and running. I worked shows in Kansas, Salt Lake City, Seattle, and Houston—some of the hardest work I’ve done.
Travel. In addition to shows, I was lucky enough to travel to Utah a couple of times, to Hawaii, and on a Mexican cruise with my family. It was all fun, but put me even farther behind and added to my busy-ness.
Church calling. Being in stake Young Women isn’t always busy, but it’s pretty big stuff when we are. With 16 units to orient, train, and attend ward conferences for, plus the pioneer trek we did, the dances, activities and meetings, stake auxiliary training and YW Recognition, it adds up.
Will it be different this year?
Well, I still have my calling, my job, and travel plans. I'll be working fewer shows and won’t have a store to open, but otherwise, not too different.
But maybe my calendar will remind me to slow down and smell the roses.
Maybe, amidst the busyness, I'll take time to rest.
Rest
is not idleness;
and to lie sometimes on the grass
under trees on a summer day,
listening to the murmur of the water
or watching the clouds float across the sky
is by no means
a waste of time.
--J Lubbock
and it has quotes each month about rest, repose and relaxation.
I wonder if it could be possible this year.
I thought when my children left home my life would be quiet.
Last year was my busiest year yet, even after two daughters’ weddings the year before.
What kept me so busy?
Work. The business is getting more demanding, but we’re not hiring more people. We opened a new store in Utah for which I did much of the planning, ordering, packing, setting up, and getting it up and running. I worked shows in Kansas, Salt Lake City, Seattle, and Houston—some of the hardest work I’ve done.
Travel. In addition to shows, I was lucky enough to travel to Utah a couple of times, to Hawaii, and on a Mexican cruise with my family. It was all fun, but put me even farther behind and added to my busy-ness.
Church calling. Being in stake Young Women isn’t always busy, but it’s pretty big stuff when we are. With 16 units to orient, train, and attend ward conferences for, plus the pioneer trek we did, the dances, activities and meetings, stake auxiliary training and YW Recognition, it adds up.
Will it be different this year?
Well, I still have my calling, my job, and travel plans. I'll be working fewer shows and won’t have a store to open, but otherwise, not too different.
But maybe my calendar will remind me to slow down and smell the roses.
Maybe, amidst the busyness, I'll take time to rest.
Rest
is not idleness;
and to lie sometimes on the grass
under trees on a summer day,
listening to the murmur of the water
or watching the clouds float across the sky
is by no means
a waste of time.
--J Lubbock
Sunday, January 07, 2007
My Trips to Paradise
I don’t know why I was the lucky one, but I got to be the Princess of Quite a Lot this year (sorry, Elizabeth). In less than three short months I got to take four great trips.
Thanksgiving week I got to go on my first cruise, and it was to the Mexican Riviera, and it was with all my children! I thought it was a blast. The boat was huge and interesting and fun. We had wonderful meals in the dining room, attended classes and shows, enjoyed the pools, walked the decks, used the workout room, climbed the rock wall, took dancing lessons, ate and ate and ate, had a family book club meeting, played games in the game room, dressed up for formal nights, had girls' day at the salon, and had the fun of seeing family around every corner.
Getting off the boat was a great adventure too that included snorkeling, parasailing, boogie boarding, sliding down natural waterfalls, hiking, jumping in the back of "taxis" with people who didn't speak English, and finding our way around a foreign country. It was very fun. I didn't want it to end.
I wasn't home a week before I got on a plane to go to Hawaii. My friends who own the business I work for had room in their time share so they invited me! I had a blast. I didn’t have to be a mother or a wife or count my pennies. I did things I’ve never done and may never get to do again.
We spent the first week in Kauai—the best kept secret in the world. It is everything you think Hawaii would be. Tropical beauty on every acre, lots of beaches, tons to do, perfect weather. Then I stayed a few more days with them on Maui. While in Hawaii I flew in a helicopter over the inaccessible NaPali coast and Waimea Canyon, the wettest spot on the earth where Jurassic Park and other films have been shot. I kayaked, did an amazing jungle hike, took a catamaran out to a forbidden island, drove 10,000 feet up to the top of a volcanic crater, went to a real luau, and enjoyed beautiful beaches, waterfalls, caves and rock formations. It was Paradise. I didn't want to come home.
These trips followed closely my trips to the breathtaking Northwest and to a diverse international quilt show in Houston, and a trip to Utah earlier this year.
My dictionary defines Paradise as any place of great beauty and perfection, any place or condition of great happiness, or heaven.
Being in the hills of Utah with children and grandchildren, being in the lush Northwest with family and friends, cruising the seas with my kids, and being in tropical Hawaii, I found myself in places of great beauty and happiness, places I didn't want to leave.
That certainly defines Heaven, doesn't it?: A place of great beauty and perfection, a place of great happiness, being with family and loved ones, and never wanting to leave.
I've been in Paradise at least 4 times this year.
It gave me a taste of Heaven.
With my passport (temple recommend),
I hope to go there someday.
Thanksgiving week I got to go on my first cruise, and it was to the Mexican Riviera, and it was with all my children! I thought it was a blast. The boat was huge and interesting and fun. We had wonderful meals in the dining room, attended classes and shows, enjoyed the pools, walked the decks, used the workout room, climbed the rock wall, took dancing lessons, ate and ate and ate, had a family book club meeting, played games in the game room, dressed up for formal nights, had girls' day at the salon, and had the fun of seeing family around every corner.
Getting off the boat was a great adventure too that included snorkeling, parasailing, boogie boarding, sliding down natural waterfalls, hiking, jumping in the back of "taxis" with people who didn't speak English, and finding our way around a foreign country. It was very fun. I didn't want it to end.
I wasn't home a week before I got on a plane to go to Hawaii. My friends who own the business I work for had room in their time share so they invited me! I had a blast. I didn’t have to be a mother or a wife or count my pennies. I did things I’ve never done and may never get to do again.
We spent the first week in Kauai—the best kept secret in the world. It is everything you think Hawaii would be. Tropical beauty on every acre, lots of beaches, tons to do, perfect weather. Then I stayed a few more days with them on Maui. While in Hawaii I flew in a helicopter over the inaccessible NaPali coast and Waimea Canyon, the wettest spot on the earth where Jurassic Park and other films have been shot. I kayaked, did an amazing jungle hike, took a catamaran out to a forbidden island, drove 10,000 feet up to the top of a volcanic crater, went to a real luau, and enjoyed beautiful beaches, waterfalls, caves and rock formations. It was Paradise. I didn't want to come home.
These trips followed closely my trips to the breathtaking Northwest and to a diverse international quilt show in Houston, and a trip to Utah earlier this year.
My dictionary defines Paradise as any place of great beauty and perfection, any place or condition of great happiness, or heaven.
Being in the hills of Utah with children and grandchildren, being in the lush Northwest with family and friends, cruising the seas with my kids, and being in tropical Hawaii, I found myself in places of great beauty and happiness, places I didn't want to leave.
That certainly defines Heaven, doesn't it?: A place of great beauty and perfection, a place of great happiness, being with family and loved ones, and never wanting to leave.
I've been in Paradise at least 4 times this year.
It gave me a taste of Heaven.
With my passport (temple recommend),
I hope to go there someday.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Adversity
Before I loan my book out, I want to share a quote from Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden:
"Adversity is like a strong wind. I don’t mean just that it holds us back from places we might otherwise go. It also tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that afterward we see ourselves as we really are, and not merely as we might like to be.”
I've had some adversity in my life. I've learned things about myself, some that I like and some that I don't.
I've never forgotten when I hit the lowest point in my life. I'll spare you the details, but tell you what I learned: I thought I had lost everything, but I found that after being stripped of it all what I had left was a personal knowledge of God.
When I thought I had not a friend in the world to take my troubles to, no help, no support and nowhere to turn, when there was no arm of flesh upon which I could rely, I found a friend in Jesus.
I learned that no matter what happens to me in life, I know that God is real, that's He is lovingly aware of His children, and that though He may not come in the time and way you want Him to, He always comes.
And it has made all the difference.
In rebuttal to criticism of the ill-fated Martin and Willie Handcart Companies, an elderly man once said: “I was in that company and my wife … too. We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation, but … we became acquainted with [God] in our extrem[i]ties. Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No. Neither then nor anyminute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company.” ( cited in Robert L. Backman, “Faith in Every Footstep,” Ensign, Jan. 1997, 8)
Adversity is never fun, but I'm grateful to have come to know God, and myself, in ways I otherwise never would have.
To be untested and unproven is also to be unaware of all that we are. If we are unknowing of our possibilities, with what could we safely be trusted? Could we in ignorance of our capacities trust ourselves? Could others then be entrusted to us? --Neal A. Maxwell
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Jennifer
Today is Jennifer's birthday.
Jennifer is my firstborn child.
There is nothing in the world like the first; nothing can ever take its place. For holding that special place in my heart, for enduring that position, thanks, Jennifer.
Jennifer was due the week after Christmas, so we couldn't travel to Washington. That was my first Christmas away from home. Thanks, Jennifer.
I woke up on New Year's Eve and felt funny. I had to call my mother to ask what labor felt like. Little did I know what I was in for. Thanks, Jennifer.
I had never seen anything born before, so after her birth I kept saying, There really was a baby in there! And there was. A baby that made me a mother. Thanks, Jennifer.
The doctor who delivered her didn't miss too much of his football game, but he did miss a New Year's Eve party he didn't want to go to. For that, he thanks you, Jennifer.
She came too early to be the first baby born in the new year so we didn't get all the press and goodies, but we did get the tax deduction, and I didn't get my hospital picture in the news. Thanks, Jennifer.
I don't know which is most painful: labor, afterbirth, nursing, or breast infections. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. For making me stronger, thanks, Jennifer.
I don't know if we choose our parents in the pre-existence, but if you did, thanks, Jennifer.
I cannot begin to count the ways Jennifer has blessed my life. For the pure delight at every age, for the deep and abiding friendship, for the connection we have on all levels, I thank you.
On this, the anniversary of her birth, I have umpteen reasons to celebrate and be glad.
For all you are and do, I thank you, Jennifer.
I love you!
Happy Birthday!
Jennifer is my firstborn child.
There is nothing in the world like the first; nothing can ever take its place. For holding that special place in my heart, for enduring that position, thanks, Jennifer.
Jennifer was due the week after Christmas, so we couldn't travel to Washington. That was my first Christmas away from home. Thanks, Jennifer.
I woke up on New Year's Eve and felt funny. I had to call my mother to ask what labor felt like. Little did I know what I was in for. Thanks, Jennifer.
I had never seen anything born before, so after her birth I kept saying, There really was a baby in there! And there was. A baby that made me a mother. Thanks, Jennifer.
The doctor who delivered her didn't miss too much of his football game, but he did miss a New Year's Eve party he didn't want to go to. For that, he thanks you, Jennifer.
She came too early to be the first baby born in the new year so we didn't get all the press and goodies, but we did get the tax deduction, and I didn't get my hospital picture in the news. Thanks, Jennifer.
I don't know which is most painful: labor, afterbirth, nursing, or breast infections. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. For making me stronger, thanks, Jennifer.
I don't know if we choose our parents in the pre-existence, but if you did, thanks, Jennifer.
I cannot begin to count the ways Jennifer has blessed my life. For the pure delight at every age, for the deep and abiding friendship, for the connection we have on all levels, I thank you.
On this, the anniversary of her birth, I have umpteen reasons to celebrate and be glad.
For all you are and do, I thank you, Jennifer.
I love you!
Happy Birthday!
Friday, December 29, 2006
The Party's Over
"Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting decorations back into their cardboard boxes--
Some have got broken--and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed up, for the rest of the week--
Not that we have much appetite, having eaten such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted--quite unsuccessfully--
To love all our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long."
-- W. H. Auden
The week after Christmas is always in interesting mix of emotions.
We want to somehow hang on to the feelings of the season, but clean out the mess.
What things need be stowed away, and what should be left out?
I guess the tree and lights must go, but other things should stay,
like the peace and the joy,
love and service,
being wise and giving gifts,
humble kneeling and songs of praise,
following His light and coming to Him.
I always wonder if all the fuss and bother of Christmas was worth it. Did it make a difference in my life? Am I better for the experience?
Will I be any better at making room for him in my life this year?
Will I follow his light more than the darkness of the world?
Will I continue to offer gifts to Him?
Will I love better because Love was born?
Sometimes I feel like the promising child who can't keep his word for long.
But I still want to try.
For all He's given me, I really want to try.
Putting decorations back into their cardboard boxes--
Some have got broken--and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed up, for the rest of the week--
Not that we have much appetite, having eaten such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted--quite unsuccessfully--
To love all our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long."
-- W. H. Auden
The week after Christmas is always in interesting mix of emotions.
We want to somehow hang on to the feelings of the season, but clean out the mess.
What things need be stowed away, and what should be left out?
I guess the tree and lights must go, but other things should stay,
like the peace and the joy,
love and service,
being wise and giving gifts,
humble kneeling and songs of praise,
following His light and coming to Him.
I always wonder if all the fuss and bother of Christmas was worth it. Did it make a difference in my life? Am I better for the experience?
Will I be any better at making room for him in my life this year?
Will I follow his light more than the darkness of the world?
Will I continue to offer gifts to Him?
Will I love better because Love was born?
Sometimes I feel like the promising child who can't keep his word for long.
But I still want to try.
For all He's given me, I really want to try.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
I'm a Fake!
While folding laundry one day I caught a few minutes of a Rock Hudson movie. He played a man who sold fishing equipment in a sporting goods store. He told people the best gear to buy, the best place to fish, the best bait to use, even the best time of day to fish. Then it was discovered that he didn’t personally fish, or even know how! He just passed on information that others had given him.
I thought, that is so my life! I work in a longarm quilting business selling quilting supplies. I spend my days advising people on the best products to buy, telling them how to use it, and am even considered "the expert" by some. But I don’t quilt!! I don’t personally use these products or have any real experience with them. I just pass on information that people tell me.
Something about this isn’t right.
We can know a lot about a lot of things. But there is no substitute for real experience. Only then can you really know a thing. (And even then, only your limited experience of it.)
I worry that the gospel can be like that. We can know all about it, how to live it, where to practice it, but not have any real experience with it. We can talk about faith, charity, service, sacrifice, Spirit, saving the world, but how much personal experience do we have with those things?
"It is a contradiction in terms and ideas to call anything a revelation that comes to us at secondhand, either verbally or in writing. It is revelation to the first person only and hearsay to every other."
--Thomas Paine
Especially in the gospel were we meant to have first-hand experiences!
I do believe the Church encourages us to act "as if" we have a virtue before we actually possess it, such as to act with charity before we may actually feel it. It may be viewed as hypocrisy, but I see it as a learning step, a practice phase. It's meant to be temporary until we gain the virtue. All of us at divers times and places are "practicing" Christians. Permanence of the discrepancy qualifies for being a fake.
It makes me all the more grateful for the Savior, who left His heavenly home and came to earth to experience mortality first-hand. He knows what it is to be hungry, tired, rejected, and unappreciated. What He knows of our struggles and sufferings is not from hearsay.
Dennis Rasmussun wrote:
“Christ came among men to share what he had brought with him from heaven, but also to share what he would find on earth.
The gift he brought was eternal life with all its glory; the gift he received was human life with all its struggles.
Because He lived and suffered and died, life and suffering and death were changed. By sharing them he transfigured them, and made them ministers of perfection.”
We have faith in Christ because we know He has walked the walk, that He knows from personal experience about the things He teaches us. We know we can follow in His footsteps.
The lesson for me is, whether in fishing, quilting or living the gospel, it is infinitely better to do it, to walk the walk, and not just talk the talk.
The Lord has said, Do not be a hypocrite.
In other words, Don't be a fake.
I thought, that is so my life! I work in a longarm quilting business selling quilting supplies. I spend my days advising people on the best products to buy, telling them how to use it, and am even considered "the expert" by some. But I don’t quilt!! I don’t personally use these products or have any real experience with them. I just pass on information that people tell me.
Something about this isn’t right.
We can know a lot about a lot of things. But there is no substitute for real experience. Only then can you really know a thing. (And even then, only your limited experience of it.)
I worry that the gospel can be like that. We can know all about it, how to live it, where to practice it, but not have any real experience with it. We can talk about faith, charity, service, sacrifice, Spirit, saving the world, but how much personal experience do we have with those things?
"It is a contradiction in terms and ideas to call anything a revelation that comes to us at secondhand, either verbally or in writing. It is revelation to the first person only and hearsay to every other."
--Thomas Paine
Especially in the gospel were we meant to have first-hand experiences!
I do believe the Church encourages us to act "as if" we have a virtue before we actually possess it, such as to act with charity before we may actually feel it. It may be viewed as hypocrisy, but I see it as a learning step, a practice phase. It's meant to be temporary until we gain the virtue. All of us at divers times and places are "practicing" Christians. Permanence of the discrepancy qualifies for being a fake.
It makes me all the more grateful for the Savior, who left His heavenly home and came to earth to experience mortality first-hand. He knows what it is to be hungry, tired, rejected, and unappreciated. What He knows of our struggles and sufferings is not from hearsay.
Dennis Rasmussun wrote:
“Christ came among men to share what he had brought with him from heaven, but also to share what he would find on earth.
The gift he brought was eternal life with all its glory; the gift he received was human life with all its struggles.
Because He lived and suffered and died, life and suffering and death were changed. By sharing them he transfigured them, and made them ministers of perfection.”
We have faith in Christ because we know He has walked the walk, that He knows from personal experience about the things He teaches us. We know we can follow in His footsteps.
The lesson for me is, whether in fishing, quilting or living the gospel, it is infinitely better to do it, to walk the walk, and not just talk the talk.
The Lord has said, Do not be a hypocrite.
In other words, Don't be a fake.
What things do you know from experience, and what things do you know just from hearsay?
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Thoughts on a Christmas Eve
Because the spritz and the gumdrops are made,
because I don't have to stay up all night wrapping presents, filling stockings, or making cinnamon rolls this year,
because I have time for once to be quiet,
I appreciate even more this favorite poem of mine:
Let us be silent for a little while
This holy night.
Let us go out where the silver winter stars
Hang still and white,
And let us find His star, and stand beneath
Its drenching light.
We will be calm, for the while alone
Where still things are;
We will be stronger than we were before,
And cleaner, far,
For the brief time beneath the showering light
Of one white star,
And oh, I think if we wait, and if we watch,
That star will pour
A radiant silver light along the hills;
Will go before
And lead all earnest seekers for the Christ
To His very door.
--Grace Noll Crowell
May all things in our lives lead us to Him.
because I don't have to stay up all night wrapping presents, filling stockings, or making cinnamon rolls this year,
because I have time for once to be quiet,
I appreciate even more this favorite poem of mine:
Let us be silent for a little while
This holy night.
Let us go out where the silver winter stars
Hang still and white,
And let us find His star, and stand beneath
Its drenching light.
We will be calm, for the while alone
Where still things are;
We will be stronger than we were before,
And cleaner, far,
For the brief time beneath the showering light
Of one white star,
And oh, I think if we wait, and if we watch,
That star will pour
A radiant silver light along the hills;
Will go before
And lead all earnest seekers for the Christ
To His very door.
--Grace Noll Crowell
May all things in our lives lead us to Him.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
"C" is for Christmas
Inspired by a poem I read in an old Improvement Era, I once wrote this corny play on words:
It's Christmas! How do you "C" Christmas?
Do you "C" santa Claus, Chimneys, Colored lights,
Chocolates, Cranberries and Crisp winter nights?
Children, Candles, Candy Canes,
Cheery Cards, Carolers and Country lanes?
And in your Christmas do you "C" Christ?
Do you see the Child in the Creche?
Do you see the Creator of worlds,
and his Commanding Countenance?
Do you see his Capacity for Caring?
His Caress for a Child, his Cry for our pain?
His Charity in his Compassion and Comfort?
He is the Calm in a storm.
He is the Champion for God's Cause,
with Consummate Commitment and Courage.
Cheerful, Congenial, Considerate.
Composed, Certain, Candid.
He is unCommon, inComparable, unChangeable.
Do you see his Conduct as he's Cruelly Condemned?
Do you see him Climb with the Cross to Calvary,
to Carry our sins and Compensate for our weaknesses?
He is Chief among us, the Center of our universe,
our hope for all things Celestial.
It is Christ we Celebrate.
For unto us is born this day a savior, who is Christ the Lord.
I still like to read it because it reminds me to open my eyes to all that Christmas means.
Every year our stake does a Creche Exhibit. As I took my time quietly looking at each Nativity, and I felt like I was personally witnessing that holiest of nights. I felt I had looked into the faces of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus, of good shepherds and of wise men, angels and other witnesses. I knew, as they did, that this was indeed the promised Messiah, and that He was true to His promises. Christmas is a miraculous experience when we have eyes to see.
As Children of God, are there things to "C" in us?
Compassion
Conviction
Courage
Commitment
Charity
Contentment
Compliance
Child-like
Constant
Caring
Clean
Contrite
Covenant
We think A-list is best, but I'm thinking C-list is better.
That's how I "C" it.
It's Christmas! How do you "C" Christmas?
Do you "C" santa Claus, Chimneys, Colored lights,
Chocolates, Cranberries and Crisp winter nights?
Children, Candles, Candy Canes,
Cheery Cards, Carolers and Country lanes?
And in your Christmas do you "C" Christ?
Do you see the Child in the Creche?
Do you see the Creator of worlds,
and his Commanding Countenance?
Do you see his Capacity for Caring?
His Caress for a Child, his Cry for our pain?
His Charity in his Compassion and Comfort?
He is the Calm in a storm.
He is the Champion for God's Cause,
with Consummate Commitment and Courage.
Cheerful, Congenial, Considerate.
Composed, Certain, Candid.
He is unCommon, inComparable, unChangeable.
Do you see his Conduct as he's Cruelly Condemned?
Do you see him Climb with the Cross to Calvary,
to Carry our sins and Compensate for our weaknesses?
He is Chief among us, the Center of our universe,
our hope for all things Celestial.
It is Christ we Celebrate.
For unto us is born this day a savior, who is Christ the Lord.
I still like to read it because it reminds me to open my eyes to all that Christmas means.
Every year our stake does a Creche Exhibit. As I took my time quietly looking at each Nativity, and I felt like I was personally witnessing that holiest of nights. I felt I had looked into the faces of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus, of good shepherds and of wise men, angels and other witnesses. I knew, as they did, that this was indeed the promised Messiah, and that He was true to His promises. Christmas is a miraculous experience when we have eyes to see.
As Children of God, are there things to "C" in us?
Compassion
Conviction
Courage
Commitment
Charity
Contentment
Compliance
Child-like
Constant
Caring
Clean
Contrite
Covenant
We think A-list is best, but I'm thinking C-list is better.
That's how I "C" it.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
A Blogging Milestone
If I count right, this will be my 100th blog. Not bad for someone who dragged their feet to start one, and even then needed a jump start.
This week I printed them all out, just to see what that would look like. It was bigger than I thought. I have to say it's not a book everyone would want to read, but I like it.
The word "ripple" comes to mind. I don't know how Jill got started, but she got Jenn started who got me started and her sisters and Jill's keep getting bigger as her circle of wonderful friends grows. The Ripple Effect isn't just about blogs being written; it's about ideas and feelings and insights and friendships. It's all the things that happen in our lives and in the lives of those we touch because of blogspot.com.
Our personal stories are the literature of our lives. What can be more touching or interesting to read than real thoughts and stories of real people? Thanks to anyone who reads this for your contribution to my life.
Blogging has not been a daily journal for me; I do that in another place. It has been a reflection on my life and experiences. It has allowed me expression through the art of writing. It has put me in touch with my children, and some great friends.
Some days I think I have said all I have to say. Other days I think not.
So I'll keep on blogging when something inside me wants to get out.
What I feared most came true: I haven't cleaned a single closet since I started.
And I haven't found the real me. But I have come closer.
And I have loved the journey.
Thanks, Jill and Jenn!
Happy 100th Blog to me!
This week I printed them all out, just to see what that would look like. It was bigger than I thought. I have to say it's not a book everyone would want to read, but I like it.
The word "ripple" comes to mind. I don't know how Jill got started, but she got Jenn started who got me started and her sisters and Jill's keep getting bigger as her circle of wonderful friends grows. The Ripple Effect isn't just about blogs being written; it's about ideas and feelings and insights and friendships. It's all the things that happen in our lives and in the lives of those we touch because of blogspot.com.
Our personal stories are the literature of our lives. What can be more touching or interesting to read than real thoughts and stories of real people? Thanks to anyone who reads this for your contribution to my life.
Blogging has not been a daily journal for me; I do that in another place. It has been a reflection on my life and experiences. It has allowed me expression through the art of writing. It has put me in touch with my children, and some great friends.
Some days I think I have said all I have to say. Other days I think not.
So I'll keep on blogging when something inside me wants to get out.
What I feared most came true: I haven't cleaned a single closet since I started.
And I haven't found the real me. But I have come closer.
And I have loved the journey.
Thanks, Jill and Jenn!
Happy 100th Blog to me!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Thoughts on a Healthy Family
When I went to college, I majored in Psychology, but I minored in Child Development and Family Relations. I thought everyone should at least minor in CDFR. What more important thing do we all need to know in life than how to be a good parent and have a happy and productive family? What better topic should we study all the days of our lives?
"The family is still the most efficient means for producing human happiness and human goodness, as well as for preparing us for the world of immortality that is to follow." Neal A. Maxwell
Neal A. Maxwell taught some very profound things about healthy families:
"Of all the work of 'perfecting the saints,' none compares to that done in healthy families."
"Sickness of spirit in a family is carried just as surely as the flu."
"The next generation always lives downwind of the toxic trends of the previous generation."
“When some choose slackness, they are choosing not only for themselves, but for the next generation and the next. Small equivocations in parents can produce large deviations in their children! Earlier generations in a family may have reflected dedication, while some in the current generation evidence equivocation. Sadly, in the next, some may choose dissension, as erosion takes it toll. "
"The whole process of raising a family is one of perfecting our own lives. That which we transmit consciously and unconsciously to our children in their rearing in the home must be the best within us." Henry D. Moyle
"I have learned in my home what I know about godliness.
And the theory I learn other places, if not applied at home, is useless." -Ann Madsen
"The family is still the most efficient means for producing human happiness and human goodness, as well as for preparing us for the world of immortality that is to follow." Neal A. Maxwell
Neal A. Maxwell taught some very profound things about healthy families:
"Of all the work of 'perfecting the saints,' none compares to that done in healthy families."
"Sickness of spirit in a family is carried just as surely as the flu."
"The next generation always lives downwind of the toxic trends of the previous generation."
“When some choose slackness, they are choosing not only for themselves, but for the next generation and the next. Small equivocations in parents can produce large deviations in their children! Earlier generations in a family may have reflected dedication, while some in the current generation evidence equivocation. Sadly, in the next, some may choose dissension, as erosion takes it toll. "
"The whole process of raising a family is one of perfecting our own lives. That which we transmit consciously and unconsciously to our children in their rearing in the home must be the best within us." Henry D. Moyle
I've always felt we owe it to our children to be the best person we can be. We don't begin to know how much influence we have on the earthly and eternal lives of our posterity. It takes a great deal of honest observation and introspection, a long view of things, and a great deal of discipline to do right by our families.
It is my hope that when we sit down in our heavenly home, that I will have done my part, that my family will be saved, that there will be no empty chairs at our table.
"I have learned in my home what I know about godliness.
And the theory I learn other places, if not applied at home, is useless." -Ann Madsen
Christmas Is Come
Well, the weather has turned chilly, I got my broken Christmas music to play, and I've bought and wrapped a few presents, so Christmas has come to my house--just in the nick of time.
So, what part of that is Christmas?
The shopping and buying?
The Christmas music?
The cold weather?
Doing things for others?
The busy-ness?
Or is it the lights and decorations? The smells and the tastes?
Certainly all of it. But what parts could we do without and still have it feel like Christmas?
Since Christmas really is about the birth of the Savior, I guess we could do away with almost all of it, except maybe the doing things for others, since that is the crux of the meaning of Christmas.
I got to wondering today how many Christmas presents I have wrapped in my lifetime. I came from a large family who had huge Christmases, and when I lived at home I did a lot of the wrapping for my mother and siblings. Then I had a large family of my own and there are always lots of presents to wrap.
And how many Christmas cards have I written? How many cookies have I baked to give away?
It almost makes me feel like I have done some good in the world.
But what if we don't count Christmas, if we take the Decembers of my life out of the equation, then what do I have to show for myself? Not much, I'm afraid.
It makes me all the more grateful for this season. Even if what we do smacks of obligation, it is a wonderful opportunity to think of others, to do for others, to share our love through cards and cookies and gifts.
And the world, and we, are better for it.
So, what part of that is Christmas?
The shopping and buying?
The Christmas music?
The cold weather?
Doing things for others?
The busy-ness?
Or is it the lights and decorations? The smells and the tastes?
Certainly all of it. But what parts could we do without and still have it feel like Christmas?
Since Christmas really is about the birth of the Savior, I guess we could do away with almost all of it, except maybe the doing things for others, since that is the crux of the meaning of Christmas.
I got to wondering today how many Christmas presents I have wrapped in my lifetime. I came from a large family who had huge Christmases, and when I lived at home I did a lot of the wrapping for my mother and siblings. Then I had a large family of my own and there are always lots of presents to wrap.
And how many Christmas cards have I written? How many cookies have I baked to give away?
It almost makes me feel like I have done some good in the world.
But what if we don't count Christmas, if we take the Decembers of my life out of the equation, then what do I have to show for myself? Not much, I'm afraid.
It makes me all the more grateful for this season. Even if what we do smacks of obligation, it is a wonderful opportunity to think of others, to do for others, to share our love through cards and cookies and gifts.
And the world, and we, are better for it.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Course Corrections
I used to think that life just grabs us, locks us into a socio-economic cultural environment, dictates how we spend our days (work, school, family), and gives us few real choices.
Then I had an aha! moment.
One day I was standing in the middle of my tiny cluttered house, surrounded by my numerous offspring, daydreaming about the woman I hoped to be someday, which was nothing like the girl I was. I realized that, though I had a hope and a dream, I was not on the path! And I wasn’t really doing anything to get myself there.
It was an eye-opening, course-changing experience for me when I realized I did have choices and I needed to be making them!
Life and circumstance do dictate, to some degree, those things we need to do each day, but within the framework of our lives, from the moment of each day's awakening, we make choices. We choose to get up or not, to be cheerful or not, to get to work or not, to be nice or not, and whatever happens to us, we choose our reaction. We don't always have complete control over our circumstances, but within those circumstances we have great power to shape a life.
"Next to the bestowal of life itself, the right to direct that life is God's greatest gift to man." David O. McKay
Every one of us is an artist. Our life is the masterpiece we are creating. Every day, whether we know it or not, we pick up the paintbrush or the chisel, and work on our creation. It is the small choices we make every day that shape our character. It’s like grass growing: slowly, imperceptibly, but surely, we are growing into something.
A good question to ask is, When you get to the end of the path you're on, where will you be?
I often think (and have asked my children), "Which Kingdom are you practicing for?"
The thoughts we think, the words we say, the things we do, the entertainment we engage in--for what will they qualify us in the future?
Choices...choices...every day choices...never-ending, brain-racking, soul-searching choices.
Thank goodness we are in the driver's seat and can change course.
Then I had an aha! moment.
One day I was standing in the middle of my tiny cluttered house, surrounded by my numerous offspring, daydreaming about the woman I hoped to be someday, which was nothing like the girl I was. I realized that, though I had a hope and a dream, I was not on the path! And I wasn’t really doing anything to get myself there.
It was an eye-opening, course-changing experience for me when I realized I did have choices and I needed to be making them!
Life and circumstance do dictate, to some degree, those things we need to do each day, but within the framework of our lives, from the moment of each day's awakening, we make choices. We choose to get up or not, to be cheerful or not, to get to work or not, to be nice or not, and whatever happens to us, we choose our reaction. We don't always have complete control over our circumstances, but within those circumstances we have great power to shape a life.
"Next to the bestowal of life itself, the right to direct that life is God's greatest gift to man." David O. McKay
Every one of us is an artist. Our life is the masterpiece we are creating. Every day, whether we know it or not, we pick up the paintbrush or the chisel, and work on our creation. It is the small choices we make every day that shape our character. It’s like grass growing: slowly, imperceptibly, but surely, we are growing into something.
A good question to ask is, When you get to the end of the path you're on, where will you be?
I often think (and have asked my children), "Which Kingdom are you practicing for?"
The thoughts we think, the words we say, the things we do, the entertainment we engage in--for what will they qualify us in the future?
Choices...choices...every day choices...never-ending, brain-racking, soul-searching choices.
Thank goodness we are in the driver's seat and can change course.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Disoriented
I am sitting in an airplane headed for Hawaii. It is an eerie feeling to fly over the ocean in the dark. I don't know where in the world I am.
Two weeks ago I was on a cruise ship, sailing the Pacific Ocean. Sandwiched between sea and sky, I was disoriented as to where in the world I was.
I feel lost in Walmarts that look the same in Mexico, Hawaii and every other state.
It is December. Between tropical weather, missing the "landmark" of Thanksgiving, and being far from home and family, I am disoriented as to the time of year.
Maybe I'm just disoriented in general.
My home life is different than it's been for the past 30 years.
Changes at work put me in a different place.
I'm gone too much to feel I belong in my new ward.
My church calling makes me feel like a fish out of water.
So I find myself asking,
Where am I?
Who am I?
What am I doing?
Where am I headed?
I have no real answers, except the important one: continue in faithfulness.
And if I am asea, at least I am on the move.
Hopefully I'm headed in the right direction.
Too many people work to climb the ladder of success only to find the ladder was leaning against the wrong wall.
Two weeks ago I was on a cruise ship, sailing the Pacific Ocean. Sandwiched between sea and sky, I was disoriented as to where in the world I was.
I feel lost in Walmarts that look the same in Mexico, Hawaii and every other state.
It is December. Between tropical weather, missing the "landmark" of Thanksgiving, and being far from home and family, I am disoriented as to the time of year.
Maybe I'm just disoriented in general.
My home life is different than it's been for the past 30 years.
Changes at work put me in a different place.
I'm gone too much to feel I belong in my new ward.
My church calling makes me feel like a fish out of water.
So I find myself asking,
Where am I?
Who am I?
What am I doing?
Where am I headed?
I have no real answers, except the important one: continue in faithfulness.
And if I am asea, at least I am on the move.
Hopefully I'm headed in the right direction.
Too many people work to climb the ladder of success only to find the ladder was leaning against the wrong wall.
A Different Christmas
For the past two months I have been out of town a lot, mostly in tropical places. It is now just one week until Christmas, and I've hardly given it a thought. It was 77 degrees today, and I still can't think about it.
Considering I have a very large family who all live a mailbox away, I'm in trouble.
I've tried to put Christmas music on, but the CD or the player doesn't seem to work. I think I'm not supposed to do Christmas this year.
While I was out of town, my husband, whose favorite thing about Christmas is the smell of a fresh tree, went out, for the first time in our lives, and bought a fake tree. And it came with lights. How's that for instant, artificial Christmas?
When I got home, I put two ornaments on it, one from Hawaii, and one of a cruise ship. I think that will do.
So when we get up on Christmas morning, and for the first time have no children, no stockings, and no presents, I'll remember that this is our Christmas: that we went on a cruise with our children and I got to go to Hawaii. That should warm my soul, if indeed if it gets cold enough to need warming.
It will be a different Christmas.
I won't have to stay up late or get up early.
I won't have to spend my day tripping over stuff and cleaning up after everyone.
I won't have to put up with the joking, poking, and wrestling of siblings.
Maybe I'll have time to take a nap, for all the years I stayed up all night and didn't get one.
Just maybe I'll miss the excitement of anticipation on Christmas morning, the fun of stockings, the bright eyes and yelps of joy at opening a gift, the love and bonding of a family, the gratitude felt for gifts, for each other, and for all that Christmas means.
It will be a different Christmas.
Bah Humbug.
Maybe I won't even make cinnamon rolls.
Considering I have a very large family who all live a mailbox away, I'm in trouble.
I've tried to put Christmas music on, but the CD or the player doesn't seem to work. I think I'm not supposed to do Christmas this year.
While I was out of town, my husband, whose favorite thing about Christmas is the smell of a fresh tree, went out, for the first time in our lives, and bought a fake tree. And it came with lights. How's that for instant, artificial Christmas?
When I got home, I put two ornaments on it, one from Hawaii, and one of a cruise ship. I think that will do.
So when we get up on Christmas morning, and for the first time have no children, no stockings, and no presents, I'll remember that this is our Christmas: that we went on a cruise with our children and I got to go to Hawaii. That should warm my soul, if indeed if it gets cold enough to need warming.
It will be a different Christmas.
I won't have to stay up late or get up early.
I won't have to spend my day tripping over stuff and cleaning up after everyone.
I won't have to put up with the joking, poking, and wrestling of siblings.
Maybe I'll have time to take a nap, for all the years I stayed up all night and didn't get one.
Just maybe I'll miss the excitement of anticipation on Christmas morning, the fun of stockings, the bright eyes and yelps of joy at opening a gift, the love and bonding of a family, the gratitude felt for gifts, for each other, and for all that Christmas means.
It will be a different Christmas.
Bah Humbug.
Maybe I won't even make cinnamon rolls.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
My Piano and Me
My mother played both piano and organ, and played in church almost all her life.
She hoped all her children would learn to play the piano.
She was gravely disappointed.
With my sisters, I took piano lessons from an old man in an old house on the waterfront downtown. I took lessons long enough to learn to read music. But I didn’t like to practice, so my mother let me quit (shame on her).
I loved it when my busy mother occasionally sat down at the piano in the living room and so beautifully played. I wished I could play like her.
Then something happened. For some reason unknown to me, Mother moved the piano out of the living room and into a back bedroom that came to be called The Piano Room.
About that time I decided I really did want to learn to play the piano. Maybe moving it to a back room gave me the privacy I needed, away from seven critical and intolerant siblings.
So I spent one summer, many hours every day, in The Piano Room, teaching myself to play the piano. I started with a few songs I liked and worked until I could play them. I dug out books of music and tried every song. The first song I memorized and could play with confidence was Moon River. I continued throughout the years to try on my own to practice and improve.
I wouldn’t recommend this manner of learning to play to anyone. The things you learn wrong or don’t learn at all handicap you the rest of your life. But I did learn to play well enough to make me happy. And it exposed me to music of all kinds, marches, waltzes, spirituals, classical, popular and religious.
Sometimes, just when I thought I was playing pretty well, someone would open the door and walk in the room, and I would just fall apart. I could not play worth a darn if I thought anyone could hear me. I decided this was pretty useless. So when they asked me to play in Seminary, I determined to learn to play in public so I could be useful. It has come in handy many times.
I don’t play well; I never have and never will. I learned that you don’t have to be a concert pianist to enjoy playing the piano. It's okay to just have fun. So even though I’ve never reached even an intermediate level, I can play for myself, I can play for my family, and I even occasionally play in church. It gets me by, and I enjoy it.
I know my mother wished that I had learned to play better, but I know she's glad that I brought the gift of music to my children, that we could sit around the piano and sing together, that we learned to enjoy many different kinds of music, and that my children can now share the gift she loved so much, the gift of music, with their children.
"Music is a rich gift of God, and it is in the world to make the lives of His children happier and better."
--Clara McMaster, composer of "Teach Me to Walk", "Reverently, Quietly", "My Heavenly Father Loves Me". "
She hoped all her children would learn to play the piano.
She was gravely disappointed.
With my sisters, I took piano lessons from an old man in an old house on the waterfront downtown. I took lessons long enough to learn to read music. But I didn’t like to practice, so my mother let me quit (shame on her).
I loved it when my busy mother occasionally sat down at the piano in the living room and so beautifully played. I wished I could play like her.
Then something happened. For some reason unknown to me, Mother moved the piano out of the living room and into a back bedroom that came to be called The Piano Room.
About that time I decided I really did want to learn to play the piano. Maybe moving it to a back room gave me the privacy I needed, away from seven critical and intolerant siblings.
So I spent one summer, many hours every day, in The Piano Room, teaching myself to play the piano. I started with a few songs I liked and worked until I could play them. I dug out books of music and tried every song. The first song I memorized and could play with confidence was Moon River. I continued throughout the years to try on my own to practice and improve.
I wouldn’t recommend this manner of learning to play to anyone. The things you learn wrong or don’t learn at all handicap you the rest of your life. But I did learn to play well enough to make me happy. And it exposed me to music of all kinds, marches, waltzes, spirituals, classical, popular and religious.
Sometimes, just when I thought I was playing pretty well, someone would open the door and walk in the room, and I would just fall apart. I could not play worth a darn if I thought anyone could hear me. I decided this was pretty useless. So when they asked me to play in Seminary, I determined to learn to play in public so I could be useful. It has come in handy many times.
I don’t play well; I never have and never will. I learned that you don’t have to be a concert pianist to enjoy playing the piano. It's okay to just have fun. So even though I’ve never reached even an intermediate level, I can play for myself, I can play for my family, and I even occasionally play in church. It gets me by, and I enjoy it.
I know my mother wished that I had learned to play better, but I know she's glad that I brought the gift of music to my children, that we could sit around the piano and sing together, that we learned to enjoy many different kinds of music, and that my children can now share the gift she loved so much, the gift of music, with their children.
"Music is a rich gift of God, and it is in the world to make the lives of His children happier and better."
--Clara McMaster, composer of "Teach Me to Walk", "Reverently, Quietly", "My Heavenly Father Loves Me". "
Monday, October 02, 2006
Long Arms of Mercy
For some time now I've wanted to retire from demanding Church callings and just be the Primary pianist.
I was sitting in Relief Society thinking about this, and decided that I would have to give up this hope. Between my failing eyes, my scrambled brain, and my lack of practice, I can hardly play anymore.
Just then the Primary president appeared in the door and waved at me. You guessed it; they needed me to come and play in Primary!
I tell you this story because it’s not unusual. It seems that every time in my life I think I will get casual, or lazy, or divergent, the Lord seems to know.
"Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, " yet He always stretches out His long arms of mercy and calls me back.
I tried to do that for my own children.
When one of them would start to act out, digress, or get lackadaisical, I would show forth a little more love. Nothing big or obvious. I would touch them more, listen to them better, look into their eyes more often. I don’t believe they ever knew anything was different. But that little bit of attention and love always brought them back to the center.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's ..
- Shakespeare
I was sitting in Relief Society thinking about this, and decided that I would have to give up this hope. Between my failing eyes, my scrambled brain, and my lack of practice, I can hardly play anymore.
Just then the Primary president appeared in the door and waved at me. You guessed it; they needed me to come and play in Primary!
I tell you this story because it’s not unusual. It seems that every time in my life I think I will get casual, or lazy, or divergent, the Lord seems to know.
"Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, " yet He always stretches out His long arms of mercy and calls me back.
I tried to do that for my own children.
When one of them would start to act out, digress, or get lackadaisical, I would show forth a little more love. Nothing big or obvious. I would touch them more, listen to them better, look into their eyes more often. I don’t believe they ever knew anything was different. But that little bit of attention and love always brought them back to the center.
I learned in basic psychology that most misbehavior is for want of attention. At every age and stage of life, we want to know that someone notices us and cares about us. We're hungry for it, starving even. Is it any wonder that love expressed can make such a difference in a person's day? To be worthy of someone's time or attention, especially our parent's, somehow makes things right, makes us feel more like doing right.
I'm very grateful for Heavenly Father's watchful eye and long arms of mercy.
I'm grateful for family and friends that have helped keep me in the fold.
For those who are straying or lost, I need to wake up and reach out.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's ..
- Shakespeare
Friday, September 29, 2006
General Conference
I have many happy memories of General Conference.
When I was a child, our television may have been black and white, but we got conference—all 3 days and 6 sessions of it! It may have seemed boring, but I liked the special feeling that was in our home when conference was on.
At BYU, like many others I occasionally took the opportunity to attend conference in person in the old Tabernacle with the hard seats and pillars blocking our view. If not, then it was on every radio and TV and piped all over campus. It was in the very air.
It’s now held in the new conference center, and we often have the choice of watching it on cable at home in our jammies or going to the church. Usually we opt for going to the church.
I’ve never understood people who think conference weekend is a vacation, or why attending one session fills the minimum requirement for church that week. Don’t they know that “…the expressed will of our Heavenly Father comes to his people at conference time..." ? Alvin R. Dyer CR 10/66
Prophets, seers, revelators and other inspired leaders are telling us what God wants us to know right now! David O. McKay said, "...the Lord has magnified each one who has spoken to the end that his words have emanated from the presence of our Father." CR 10/65
Does anyone really want to miss any of what the Lord has to tell us?
I remember when I started to enjoy conference. It was when I started really listening. As an adult, I listen pretty well now. But sometimes I really hear, with my heart and mind, and not just my ears.
There have been times when I knew without a doubt that a particular message was truly straight from the Lord. I’ll never forget hearing Tanner’s talk on the role of women, Maxwell’s talk on The Not-Yet Game, Benson’s talk on pride, Bednar’s talk on the Tender Mercies of God, and Jeffrey Holland's on the Lord's succor. Truly messages from a loving Heavenly Father.
Conference for me is always kind of a checklist to see how I’m doing. How much I get out of it is part of the test.
General Conference is a time of nostalgia, of feelings and memories of the past, but it is also the thrill of hearing current revelation straight from Heaven.
There is no greater thrill than that.
I surely wouldn't want to miss it.
Tabernacle dedicatory prayer:
"And we dedicate and consecrate that portion of this house where our president and thy servants now are, to be a holy and sacred place wherein thy servants may stand forth to declare thy words and minister unto thy people in the name of thy Son forever...
May the holy angels and ministering spirits be in and round about this habitation, that when thy servants are called upon to stand in these sacred places, to minister unto thy people, the visions of eternity may be open to their view, and they may be filled with the spirit and inspiration of the Holy Ghost and the gift and power of God; and let all thy people who hearken to the words of thy servants drink freely at the fountain of the waters of life, that they may become wise unto salvation, and thereby overcome the world and be prepared for an everlasting inheritance in the celestial kingdom of God."
When I was a child, our television may have been black and white, but we got conference—all 3 days and 6 sessions of it! It may have seemed boring, but I liked the special feeling that was in our home when conference was on.
At BYU, like many others I occasionally took the opportunity to attend conference in person in the old Tabernacle with the hard seats and pillars blocking our view. If not, then it was on every radio and TV and piped all over campus. It was in the very air.
It’s now held in the new conference center, and we often have the choice of watching it on cable at home in our jammies or going to the church. Usually we opt for going to the church.
I’ve never understood people who think conference weekend is a vacation, or why attending one session fills the minimum requirement for church that week. Don’t they know that “…the expressed will of our Heavenly Father comes to his people at conference time..." ? Alvin R. Dyer CR 10/66
Prophets, seers, revelators and other inspired leaders are telling us what God wants us to know right now! David O. McKay said, "...the Lord has magnified each one who has spoken to the end that his words have emanated from the presence of our Father." CR 10/65
Does anyone really want to miss any of what the Lord has to tell us?
I remember when I started to enjoy conference. It was when I started really listening. As an adult, I listen pretty well now. But sometimes I really hear, with my heart and mind, and not just my ears.
There have been times when I knew without a doubt that a particular message was truly straight from the Lord. I’ll never forget hearing Tanner’s talk on the role of women, Maxwell’s talk on The Not-Yet Game, Benson’s talk on pride, Bednar’s talk on the Tender Mercies of God, and Jeffrey Holland's on the Lord's succor. Truly messages from a loving Heavenly Father.
Conference for me is always kind of a checklist to see how I’m doing. How much I get out of it is part of the test.
General Conference is a time of nostalgia, of feelings and memories of the past, but it is also the thrill of hearing current revelation straight from Heaven.
There is no greater thrill than that.
I surely wouldn't want to miss it.
Tabernacle dedicatory prayer:
"And we dedicate and consecrate that portion of this house where our president and thy servants now are, to be a holy and sacred place wherein thy servants may stand forth to declare thy words and minister unto thy people in the name of thy Son forever...
May the holy angels and ministering spirits be in and round about this habitation, that when thy servants are called upon to stand in these sacred places, to minister unto thy people, the visions of eternity may be open to their view, and they may be filled with the spirit and inspiration of the Holy Ghost and the gift and power of God; and let all thy people who hearken to the words of thy servants drink freely at the fountain of the waters of life, that they may become wise unto salvation, and thereby overcome the world and be prepared for an everlasting inheritance in the celestial kingdom of God."
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
High School Reunion
I did it! I survived my class reunion.
I did more than survive; I had fun!
I was glad I could locate my high school yearbook to take a peek at names and faces I haven't thought of in decades. I was glad they put our high school pictures on our name tags; no one was bashful about trying to match that memory with the older faces staring back at them. But I recognized many and could call them by name.
It was interesting to be in a room full of people all your same age.
I thought everyone looked pretty darn good. I was surprised to learn that over 30 people in my graduating class of over 400 had passed away, but then I remembered how old we all are. We really didn't look it.
I won the honors of having the most children, though I was tied with my friend Robin who wasn't there. I was one of the few who had never been to a class reunion. Other than that, I didn't have to reveal much more about myself than where I currently lived.
I learned that at least two members of my class had joined the Church. One was our class clown who joined after his experience in Viet Nam, and is now a temple worker in Mesa. The other was a quiet boy I hardly remember, but who I ended up sitting by at dinner.
I love the saying,
"When you leave a room, you take something with you and you leave something behind."
I think that is true of high school. The people you know and the experiences you have help mold the person you are. You take that with you. But you also influence others, and that stays with them.
I was gratified that even though I have thought very little of high school since I left, there were people who remembered me, were glad to see me, were even hoping I would come. Not bad for the quiet, awkward, backward girl that I was.
The hour's drive to the reunion over the familiar roads of my childhood gave me a chance to think about the experiences and relationships of my life. Amidst the serenity of evergreens, I felt an overwhelming peace about my life. I couldn't think of any loose ends, undone business, or unspent grudges. I'm not perfect and my life was far from it, yet I felt a great peace about it.
The feelings I had when looking at my yearbook were confirmed at my reunion: I went to school with really good people. When I think of my children's high school experiences, the jerks, the language, the immorality, and the drama, I feel very blessed that my asociates in school, pretty much my whole class, were really decent people, and still are.
They joked about us being too old to last the night, and I confess, in spite of my good intentions, I left a little early. I took my only chance to visit my family home on the lake. I was struck again at how lucky we were to grow up where we did, to live on beautiful lake property, to have such good friends, to have such good and pure memories in our later years.
I still don't know why I felt so strongly about attending this reunion, but it allowed me to reconnect with that formative part of my life, to experience peace about my life, and it heightened my gratitude for the blessings of my life.
Maybe I didn't go for someone else; maybe it was for me.
I did more than survive; I had fun!
I was glad I could locate my high school yearbook to take a peek at names and faces I haven't thought of in decades. I was glad they put our high school pictures on our name tags; no one was bashful about trying to match that memory with the older faces staring back at them. But I recognized many and could call them by name.
It was interesting to be in a room full of people all your same age.
I thought everyone looked pretty darn good. I was surprised to learn that over 30 people in my graduating class of over 400 had passed away, but then I remembered how old we all are. We really didn't look it.
I won the honors of having the most children, though I was tied with my friend Robin who wasn't there. I was one of the few who had never been to a class reunion. Other than that, I didn't have to reveal much more about myself than where I currently lived.
I learned that at least two members of my class had joined the Church. One was our class clown who joined after his experience in Viet Nam, and is now a temple worker in Mesa. The other was a quiet boy I hardly remember, but who I ended up sitting by at dinner.
I love the saying,
"When you leave a room, you take something with you and you leave something behind."
I think that is true of high school. The people you know and the experiences you have help mold the person you are. You take that with you. But you also influence others, and that stays with them.
I was gratified that even though I have thought very little of high school since I left, there were people who remembered me, were glad to see me, were even hoping I would come. Not bad for the quiet, awkward, backward girl that I was.
The hour's drive to the reunion over the familiar roads of my childhood gave me a chance to think about the experiences and relationships of my life. Amidst the serenity of evergreens, I felt an overwhelming peace about my life. I couldn't think of any loose ends, undone business, or unspent grudges. I'm not perfect and my life was far from it, yet I felt a great peace about it.
The feelings I had when looking at my yearbook were confirmed at my reunion: I went to school with really good people. When I think of my children's high school experiences, the jerks, the language, the immorality, and the drama, I feel very blessed that my asociates in school, pretty much my whole class, were really decent people, and still are.
They joked about us being too old to last the night, and I confess, in spite of my good intentions, I left a little early. I took my only chance to visit my family home on the lake. I was struck again at how lucky we were to grow up where we did, to live on beautiful lake property, to have such good friends, to have such good and pure memories in our later years.
I still don't know why I felt so strongly about attending this reunion, but it allowed me to reconnect with that formative part of my life, to experience peace about my life, and it heightened my gratitude for the blessings of my life.
Maybe I didn't go for someone else; maybe it was for me.
Friday, September 15, 2006
West High Class of '??
I am going to my high school reunion.
I don’t know why. I’ve never gone before. I’ve never wanted to go.
But for some reason I feel like I should.
I’m looking forward to it. I'm old enough that I'm not stressed about the usual things: I didn’t go on a diet, I didn’t buy a new outfit, I didn't have my nails done (ok, I never do). I'm comfortable going just as myself. And I think I’ve developed enough social skills to talk to people with whom I have a shared history, even if I don't remember them.
I’m glad that I never did anything to be ashamed of. I have no worries about who I might see or what they might remember.
When I was in high school I never hooked up with a particular group of friends. I was friends with everyone in my class. I liked it that way.
But when I left high school, I really left. I didn’t even glance back. I was so excited to be out of there and off to college and on to other things that I didn't stay in touch with anyone. It's been a long time since I've even thought of high school.
I’ve asked myself why I’m going. It’s certainly not to impress anyone. I don't think I'm trying to recapture the past. It's not even to rejuvenate old friendships that I don't have time for.
I think it’s more like gathering the puzzle pieces of your life and finishing the picture. It's about acknowledging the people and experiences that have made you what you are. It's about coming full circle.
I'm just guessing here. I'm really going just because I have a strong feeling that I should.
I'm even going all by myself (maybe to prove I really am a grown-up).
I may never know why I'm going, but it will be good to go home, and I plan on having a lot-o'-fun.
We are the Wildcats, the mighty, mighty Wildcats.
Everywhere we go people want to know
Who we are, and we tell them,
We are the Wildcats, the mighty, mighty Wildcats........
I don’t know why. I’ve never gone before. I’ve never wanted to go.
But for some reason I feel like I should.
I’m looking forward to it. I'm old enough that I'm not stressed about the usual things: I didn’t go on a diet, I didn’t buy a new outfit, I didn't have my nails done (ok, I never do). I'm comfortable going just as myself. And I think I’ve developed enough social skills to talk to people with whom I have a shared history, even if I don't remember them.
I’m glad that I never did anything to be ashamed of. I have no worries about who I might see or what they might remember.
When I was in high school I never hooked up with a particular group of friends. I was friends with everyone in my class. I liked it that way.
But when I left high school, I really left. I didn’t even glance back. I was so excited to be out of there and off to college and on to other things that I didn't stay in touch with anyone. It's been a long time since I've even thought of high school.
I’ve asked myself why I’m going. It’s certainly not to impress anyone. I don't think I'm trying to recapture the past. It's not even to rejuvenate old friendships that I don't have time for.
I think it’s more like gathering the puzzle pieces of your life and finishing the picture. It's about acknowledging the people and experiences that have made you what you are. It's about coming full circle.
I'm just guessing here. I'm really going just because I have a strong feeling that I should.
I'm even going all by myself (maybe to prove I really am a grown-up).
I may never know why I'm going, but it will be good to go home, and I plan on having a lot-o'-fun.
We are the Wildcats, the mighty, mighty Wildcats.
Everywhere we go people want to know
Who we are, and we tell them,
We are the Wildcats, the mighty, mighty Wildcats........
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Lessons from Choir
I can't sing. Really I can't.
I learned too late in life that one can learn to sing.
I have tried to improve, and now I can almost carry a tune.
But I still can't hear harmony very well.
When I sit by someone in choir with a strong alto voice, I can sing almost as well as they can. But if I sit by people who are struggling to find the part, then we all flounder and can't find our way.
This experience always reminds me of how much I rely on other people--on their voice, their guidance, their support--to find my way in life. And having sat beside them, now there are days that I can sing alto, or have faith, or be a good neighbor, all by myself.
I've tagged along with my accompanist mother to choir since I was 12. My improvement as a singer is marginal, but I've learned many lessons while sitting in choir.
I love a note or phrase or verse sung in unison. One voice, one mind, one heart is a powerful thing.
But there is great texture in harmony, in the mix of different voices. A harmony part by itself may sound awkward, but when put together with the whole, it makes beautiful, rich music. Harmony can tell its own story, or add interest to the melody.
We all are trying to sing The Song of Redeeming Love, but our differences need not be dissident.
I always think it's funny when the sopranos complain when they're not given the melody to sing. They are used to the easy part; they're unfamiliar with harmony. Shouldn't we all try to walk in someone else's shoes sometimes? Shouldn't we be willing to carry the harder load occasionally?
Not all people who come to choir can sing very well; some don't even read music. People come because they love to sing, or to be obedient. Almost all come willingly. That is a happy group of people. The sum of their parts is greater than the whole.
Lots of people sing very well, but don't come to choir at all.
Pox on them and their excuses.
I'm of the opinion that the whole congregation should be in the choir. It's nice to sit in the audience and listen to beautiful music, but it's even better to sing that music, joining your voice with others in making a joyful sound.
Life isn't a spectator sport. We were meant to be on stage, tuned in, hooked up and bowled over by the experience.
Every time I go to choir I have thoughts like these.
Mostly I go to choir because of hope.
I hope that if I am faithful in supporting the choir now, that maybe I will be rewarded in the next life with a voice to match my love of music.
And if I don't make the cut for the Heavenly Choir, I will have learned a lot of lessons, feebly sung a lot of beautiful songs, and still get to enjoy the music.
It's a win-win situation.
I learned too late in life that one can learn to sing.
I have tried to improve, and now I can almost carry a tune.
But I still can't hear harmony very well.
When I sit by someone in choir with a strong alto voice, I can sing almost as well as they can. But if I sit by people who are struggling to find the part, then we all flounder and can't find our way.
This experience always reminds me of how much I rely on other people--on their voice, their guidance, their support--to find my way in life. And having sat beside them, now there are days that I can sing alto, or have faith, or be a good neighbor, all by myself.
I've tagged along with my accompanist mother to choir since I was 12. My improvement as a singer is marginal, but I've learned many lessons while sitting in choir.
I love a note or phrase or verse sung in unison. One voice, one mind, one heart is a powerful thing.
But there is great texture in harmony, in the mix of different voices. A harmony part by itself may sound awkward, but when put together with the whole, it makes beautiful, rich music. Harmony can tell its own story, or add interest to the melody.
We all are trying to sing The Song of Redeeming Love, but our differences need not be dissident.
I always think it's funny when the sopranos complain when they're not given the melody to sing. They are used to the easy part; they're unfamiliar with harmony. Shouldn't we all try to walk in someone else's shoes sometimes? Shouldn't we be willing to carry the harder load occasionally?
Timing matters. There are times to sing fast, or slow, or loud or soft. Times to sing solo, or with others, in harmony or in unison. Timing matters in life. There are times to hurry, times to slow down; times to be heard, and times to be quiet; times to act on your own, and times to conform to the group. Life is a beautiful rendition when we learn the timing.
A choir would sound terrible if everyone sang their own song. It's beautiful when everyone follows the same music and the same leader. Zion is a beautiful place when everyone reads the instructions (scriptures) and follows the leader (prophet).Not all people who come to choir can sing very well; some don't even read music. People come because they love to sing, or to be obedient. Almost all come willingly. That is a happy group of people. The sum of their parts is greater than the whole.
Lots of people sing very well, but don't come to choir at all.
Pox on them and their excuses.
I'm of the opinion that the whole congregation should be in the choir. It's nice to sit in the audience and listen to beautiful music, but it's even better to sing that music, joining your voice with others in making a joyful sound.
Life isn't a spectator sport. We were meant to be on stage, tuned in, hooked up and bowled over by the experience.
Every time I go to choir I have thoughts like these.
Mostly I go to choir because of hope.
I hope that if I am faithful in supporting the choir now, that maybe I will be rewarded in the next life with a voice to match my love of music.
And if I don't make the cut for the Heavenly Choir, I will have learned a lot of lessons, feebly sung a lot of beautiful songs, and still get to enjoy the music.
It's a win-win situation.
Friday, September 08, 2006
The Race is Not to the Swift
Today in Church the priest had to repeat the sacrament prayers three times. Each time he did better until he got it perfect, as required.
I find that every time I do Dance Dance Revolution, I’m a little better than I was the last time.
Every time I exercise I’m a little more limber, a little stronger, have a little more stamina than before.
It’s nice to see some progress because there is darn little in life we see progress in.
I have to think this is true of spiritual things too. Every little prayer, every moment in the scriptures, every good thought or kind deed makes us better.
I do better physically when I exercise frequently. Occasional exercise is almost like starting over again: I'm stiff, rusty and forgetful. It's also true if I neglect my spiritual self.
Perfection seems afar off, impossible even, but maybe we get there the same way we eat an elephant, one little bit at a time. I think it takes practice, persistence, repetition, and time. It's best if plied daily.
I’d like to think, even if I can’t see it, that I’m making some progress.
One can always hope.
And keep on truckin'.
Let us run with patience the race that is set before us. Hebrews 12:1
I find that every time I do Dance Dance Revolution, I’m a little better than I was the last time.
Every time I exercise I’m a little more limber, a little stronger, have a little more stamina than before.
It’s nice to see some progress because there is darn little in life we see progress in.
I have to think this is true of spiritual things too. Every little prayer, every moment in the scriptures, every good thought or kind deed makes us better.
I do better physically when I exercise frequently. Occasional exercise is almost like starting over again: I'm stiff, rusty and forgetful. It's also true if I neglect my spiritual self.
Perfection seems afar off, impossible even, but maybe we get there the same way we eat an elephant, one little bit at a time. I think it takes practice, persistence, repetition, and time. It's best if plied daily.
I’d like to think, even if I can’t see it, that I’m making some progress.
One can always hope.
And keep on truckin'.
Let us run with patience the race that is set before us. Hebrews 12:1
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
How Nice You LOOK
We do it to ourselves, you know, and to each other.
Have you ever noticed how many of our conversations are about looks?
"You look nice today."
"Cute shoes! "
"Is that a new outfit?"
"I’m having a bad-hair day."
It places an overinflated value on appearance.
Ed said,
When men found the mirror
They began to lose their souls.
The point, of course, is that
They began to concern themselves
With their images rather than
Their selves." --Stan Herman
Maybe it’s why I like to read Jane Austen books. Their conversations are about the particulars of a person’s character. Not that it doesn’t show in the way they dress and act and live, but her characters purpose to know a person’s soul.
We don't do that in today's society. Maybe we would feel like we were judging people. Maybe we just don’t have the words for it.
So we read books, so we can know the inner thoughts and motives of other people.
Then we close our book, go visit friends, and say, “How nice you look.”
What if we said instead, “How nice you are,”
and took the time to know a soul.
Have you ever noticed how many of our conversations are about looks?
"You look nice today."
"Cute shoes! "
"Is that a new outfit?"
"I’m having a bad-hair day."
It places an overinflated value on appearance.
Ed said,
When men found the mirror
They began to lose their souls.
The point, of course, is that
They began to concern themselves
With their images rather than
Their selves." --Stan Herman
Maybe it’s why I like to read Jane Austen books. Their conversations are about the particulars of a person’s character. Not that it doesn’t show in the way they dress and act and live, but her characters purpose to know a person’s soul.
We don't do that in today's society. Maybe we would feel like we were judging people. Maybe we just don’t have the words for it.
So we read books, so we can know the inner thoughts and motives of other people.
Then we close our book, go visit friends, and say, “How nice you look.”
What if we said instead, “How nice you are,”
and took the time to know a soul.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Scrappy Quilt
In my younger years, I remember many days after school (when I wasn’t curled up with a book) sewing in the room at the top of the stairs. I would listen to the rain and the radio (not rock music--I never did like it) and the sound of the Bernina sewing machine. I don’t sew much anymore, but I do work in the quilting world.
Quilters often throw random scraps into a box and put it under their bed or in the attic. Years later they might piece together, from the fabrics they’ve saved, a beautiful quilt full of memories.
I haven’t saved any pieces of fabric, but I can make another kind of quilt:
“A journal entry is a piece saved from the fabric of a woman’s day. Ragged, incomplete, misshapen—only its color and pattern are left to show how it fits with its mates.” Maureen Ursenbach Beecher
A journal (or blog or personal history) is a way of piecing together the colors and patterns of one’s life, of making some sense of the random swatches.
Much of our life is like working on the back side of a quilt or tapestry. We do the work, but we don’t really know what kind of picture it is making. It is only years later that we see how each piece of our life is a part of a larger pattern, and that what we’ve made has sense and purpose and is beautiful.
I’m glad I don’t have to get out my sewing machine to piece my quilt. I’m sure, even then, I’ll have a lot of mis-matched pieces, dangling threads, crooked seams and unfinished edges. But ragged, scrappy, or crazy as my quilt may be, it will be warm, cozy, and uniquely mine.
Quilters often throw random scraps into a box and put it under their bed or in the attic. Years later they might piece together, from the fabrics they’ve saved, a beautiful quilt full of memories.
I haven’t saved any pieces of fabric, but I can make another kind of quilt:
“A journal entry is a piece saved from the fabric of a woman’s day. Ragged, incomplete, misshapen—only its color and pattern are left to show how it fits with its mates.” Maureen Ursenbach Beecher
A journal (or blog or personal history) is a way of piecing together the colors and patterns of one’s life, of making some sense of the random swatches.
Much of our life is like working on the back side of a quilt or tapestry. We do the work, but we don’t really know what kind of picture it is making. It is only years later that we see how each piece of our life is a part of a larger pattern, and that what we’ve made has sense and purpose and is beautiful.
I’m glad I don’t have to get out my sewing machine to piece my quilt. I’m sure, even then, I’ll have a lot of mis-matched pieces, dangling threads, crooked seams and unfinished edges. But ragged, scrappy, or crazy as my quilt may be, it will be warm, cozy, and uniquely mine.
When life throws you scraps, make a quilt.
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