Tender Mercies of the Lord

Why Ayn Rand is Wrong

2009-11-05T19:15:00.000-08:00

I have just finished reading Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, which was surprisingly engrossing in spite of being absolutely infuriating.

As a self-proclaimed libertarian and die-hard fiscal conservative, I found her ideas about the role and functioning of government to be refreshing. But when extended to the individual level, her philosophy advocates a self-centered and indulgent lifestyle that embraces no truth and will only lead to misery.

She does not believe in God. In her novel, Rand presents a world shaped by man, rather than by God. All good things flow from man's effort and he owes his success to no power but his own. Because of this one-to-one correlation she sees between effort and success, Rand believes each man is entitled to no more and no less than the results of his labor. She denies our debt to the Being who gave us life, who gave us our abilities that we might succeed, and who continues to sustain us from day to day. No matter how effectively we use our lives and our abilities, we will always remain unprofitable servants who cannot claim anything as our own.

She does not believe in Christ. In Atlas Shrugged a handful of self-made men, possessing a great but finite amount of virtue (or dollars), are bled dry by "the looters". They are the victims that would have saved the world, if they had been left to forge their own paths. In truth, there is only one self-made man and He is our Savior. We all rely on His merits; He possesses the infinite virtue and strength needed to redeem us all.

She does not believe in a resurrection. Rand sees this life as the only time of importance and, consequently, accuses anyone who would diminish her pleasure of stealing away her life. However, once you understand the doctrine of the resurrection, the race to preserve and enhance your life at all costs seems a lot less pressing. It becomes less important that we gather and savor treasures now when we see the eternities stretching before us.

She does not believe in an eternal reward. "For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it." Rand does not understand this true law of compensation, which is that whatever we loose in this life will be returned to us in the next. Even when we are not just with each other, God is just with us--as long as we take into account our eternal, as well as our mortal, lives. It is virtue--and not sin--to sustain another at our own expense, for that expense will be returned to us by the Loving Father of us all.

How wonderful that existence is more beautiful and merciful than Rand imagined it!

The Birth Story

2009-08-30T08:59:00.000-07:00

"OK, this is it, Carolyn. I need you to give me one more good push. Take a deep breath and then push as hard as you can." Dr Laine's voice was calm and even, unchanged after half an hour of coaching. She seemed completely unruffled and, as such, was the perfect foil for the love and panic I saw battling in my husband's eyes.

"You need to push him out now," he urged, then gave my hand an encouraging squeeze.

I could see Carl's purple head in the mirror and hear the too-slow beeping of his heart rate on the fetal monitor. He had been stuck nearly delivered for several contractions and was obviously in distress, halfway in and halfway out of the birth canal. He desperately needed me to shepherd him quickly and safely into the world but I was tired and had felt my efforts grow increasingly less effective with each contraction.

I looked to Scott for support as he and the nurse braced themselves against my feet. I took a deep breath and held it, pushing against their hands as the nurse counted.

"1, 2, 3 ..."

"Push!" urged the doctor, exasperation sneaking into her voice. I could tell from her outburst that I wasn't making very much progress. It took a few more seconds for me to realize that I was pushing more with my feet than with my abdominal muscles. Discouraged, I focused on the mottled bump of Carl's head in the mirror and made the switch.

"6, 7, 8 ..."

"Good! That's better!" Dr. Laine exclaimed over the counting. I screwed my eyes shut and tried to push with all my might. I pushed through the exhaustion and the worry and the self-doubt. I pushed with faith in a promise and waited for it to be fulfilled. Soon my baby would come rushing healthy and strong into our family.

"10," the nurse said with some finality and I felt my whole body go limp.

"No, no, you have to keep going!" the doctor encouraged, her hands poised to catch my little son when he emerged.

With a grunt and the expendature of my last ounce of strength, I pushed. My eyes shut tight, I felt rather than saw the moment when Carl was born. There was a sudden release of pressure as his head slipped out, closely followed by a long, skinny body. I heard his lusty cry and felt his little weight when the doctor placed him carefully on my chest.

I opened my eyes and gathered him into my arms. Carl Anders Duede. Through the rose-tinted glasses of a mother's eyes, he was a beautiful sight. With a surge of joy and pride, I looked for Scott. Our watery eyes met over the head of our son.

"He's disgusting," I murmured. Scott laughed and reached for our slimey, purple, temporarily deformed bundle of joy.

***

It began twelve hours earlier when I woke up in the middle of the night, sleepless but exhilarated. The bedside clock read 2 am and I was experiencing painless but powerful contractions every 5 minutes. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Scott, and snuck downstairs to the dishes.

By 4:30 am, the kitchen was clean, the laundry was drying, the living room was tidy, and Soren's bag was packed. I also could no longer walk comfortably through my contractions, which had been reliably occuring every 3 - 5 minutes. This was it!

I snuck into Soren's room to watch him sleep for a few minutes. Then, between contractions and with bounce in my step, I went to wake up Scott.

"Honey, we're going to have a baby today," I whispered, trying to keep the excited squeak out of my voice.

Eager though I was, I felt no urgency to get to the hospital so I labored at home, curled up on the couch with Scott for a while longer. We watched an episode of Columbo, timing contractions. When each was about 45 seconds long and 3 minutes apart, we woke up Soren, called a friend to watch him, and hurried to the hospital.

Each contraction on the way was more and more powerful, requiring more of my attention and greater relaxation to make it through. Still, I felt marvelously in control of my body and when we finally made it to the maternity ward, I was able to calmly tell the receptionist "I'm in labor."

Too calmly, perhaps. They stuck me in a room and didn't check on me for an hour. I used the time to get comfortable and have Scott walk me through some relaxation exercizes.

Finally, a nurse came. When she checked my cervix, she looked surprized.

"Good girl," she murmured, taking off her gloves. Then she announced, "You're at a 7!"

If I'd felt ignored before, suddenly all the attention was on me. This being my second baby, everyone was certain that I would move quickly to complete (or "a 10") and be delivering very shortly. A technician came to set up all the delivery equipment, I received an IV of penicillin (because of my strep B test), nurses bustled in and out asking if I felt ready to push, and intermittent monitoring was performed on my contractions and my baby.

For the most part, I was able to ignore bustling staff; my attention was completely focused inwards. I felt calm and in control of myself, able to relax through my contractions and enjoy the breaks between. I repeated key phrases to keep in the right frame of mind. It's not pain, it's work. Relax and let your body work. With Scott to coach and encourage me, I felt strong and capable. You can do this. This is a woman's work; you were built for this. Each contraction was a mind-over-body challenge. When my mind conquered, I could feel the pain melt away.

I labored through the diminishing hospital procedures until it was only Scott with me in the room. Between contractions, he read from Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox. Then, when I felt the tell-tale pressure in my abdomen, he would hold my hand and guide me through.

Around 9:00 am, a lone nurse came to check my cervix. I was excited to see what progress had been made during the long hours of mental and physical exertion. I expected to have progressed two more centimeters in the two hours since my last check.

No such luck. I was still only 7 centimeters dilated.

All of that work and nothing to show for it.

It was time for a new strategy.

Scott and I began roaming the hospital hallways, hoping gravity would supplement my body's efforts. But that was a completely different way of laboring, for which I was unprepared.

My loop around the maternity ward was punctuated with intense pain. Each contraction was a surprise, rushing upon me mid-step, then leaving me strained and exhausted. They no longer felt like the simple action of an underused muscle; they felt like my uterus contracting to the size of a black hole, pulling every surrounding bit of tissue with it. Still, I told myself that it was work--surely effective work now!--and that soon I would be through it.

Each time we passed my room, we stepped in for a check and to endure a few contractions in relative comfort. But with each painful circuit and each pronouncement of "still a 7", it became harder for me to maintain the control I so desperately needed.

At noon, I gave up walking and collapsed on the hospital bed. Although my body felt wrung out, it was my mind that was beaten and exhausted. The contractions would flare up, completely out of control, and I would groan, "It's not working. Nothing's working. Tell me how to make it work."

The nurses gave me two options, although I knew that there really were three. They said that I could be administered pitocin, which would speed up my labor. They also offered pain medication, in the form of an epidural, which would help me relax and continue to labor's natural end. The third, unmentioned option was to carry on in the frustrating manner that I had been enduring for the whole morning.

I knew I wanted to avoid pitocin at (almost) all costs. I also knew that the epidural was unnessecary, that I could finish what I had started in the natural, normal way. But what had begun as an exciting challenge with countless reasons to persist was fast becoming a trial I had no energy to complete.

I knew I wanted my baby to be safe and healthy. I knew that natural childbirth was the surest way to bring my Carl safely into the world. But I also knew that the odds of epidural-caused complications were minute, especially if I could avoid all other interventions. If the pain medications would improve my labor without harming my child, I wanted them.

"Tell me what to do," I asked Scott, but he couldn't.

"Tell me what to do," I asked God, but he wouldn't.

Still, I could request a hint. So I asked Scott to administer a priesthood blessing. He laid his hands on my head and spoke the words my Father had for me.

It was a beautiful blessing, endowing me with all the tools I would need to successfully complete the birth, whichever choice I made. If I chose to continue naturally, I was blessed with the assurance that I would be successful and that I would have the energy I needed to endure the long work. If I chose to receive medications, I was blessed with the knowledge that they would not adversely effect my son, that he would be healthy, strong, and delivered soon to my arms.

That made the choice easy. We summoned the anesthesiologist.

Although the relief was administered by a professional, I know it was a gift from a loving God. The pain eased and I clung to His promise, all worry and tension melting away.

I spent the last hour of my labor resting, preparing for the delivery. Scott and I talked about the years we had shared together, about our memories of Soren's birth and infancy, about the changes that would be coming to our family that very day. When the nurse finally announced 10 centimeters and time to push, I was refreshed and ready.

Dr. Laine assured me that I would not have to push for 3 hours, as I had with Soren, but I found it hard to believe her. So it was a happy surprise to be holding my sticky son only 30 minutes later. There had been a few tense moments at the end of the delivery but I had never doubted his safe arrival, only his prompt arrival. Suddenly he was there with me, lying on my chest and screaming. My heart swelled to encompass him, to love him just as I loved Scott and Soren, as well as my parents and siblings. He was my child and he was finally here.

That day, God had promised the safe delivery of our boy into the world. He had promised mortal life and health to my son, for which I will always be grateful. But three years earlier, when Scott and I were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple, He had promised me an eternal life with that son, with all my family. I look forward with faith to the fulfillment of that promise, which seems to me the greatest joy God has given me.

My Mother

2009-05-10T23:20:00.000-07:00

When I was a child, my mother would read to Patrick and I at the end of every day. She chose books and stories of heroes like George Washington and Abraham Lincoln (for my brother), as well as Elizabeth Blackwell and Florence Nightengale (for me). While snuggled together in bed, we learned about what Washington and Lincoln contributed to our nation, about how Elizabeth Blackwell became the first woman doctor admidst furious persecution, and about the thousands of lives Florence Nightengale saved in her gentle and loving way. Dry reading for a kid, you might think, but I loved it. I admired not only the things those historical giants accomplished but also the virtues they espoused. They were true heroes because they not only changed and saved lives but they also demonstrated how to live those lives with honor.

In spite of the fact that I was well-acquainted with the great ones of the past (or at least American past), when I was asked to write a paper in 6th grade about my hero, I chose my mother. I chose her because I knew her better than any other person and, even at that closest proximity, I admired and wanted to be like her. I had been able to watch her model the faith of Washington, the determination of Blackwell, the integrity of Lincoln, and the compassion of Nightengale in my own home.

***

In the book, Standing for Something, (written when I was a young teenager) Gordon B. Hinkley comments, "I feel sorry for today's generation, which seems bereft of heroes. Men and women who by virtue of their contributions and acheviements seem larger than life, and who can be admired for the full breadth and depth of their moral makeup are a vanishing breed."

While I was reading this passage last week, I thought first of my mother, for she was my childhood hero. As a sixth-grader, I was proud to be her daughter; now I realize I should be eternally grateful instead.

Mercies of the Past

2009-04-04T12:44:00.000-07:00

I keep hoping for some marvelous visitation of the Holy Ghost or some special experience that strikes me as a tender mercy. I keep hoping, not only so that I will have something to post on this blog, but also so that I will stop feeling so emotionally sterile.

This past month has been a spiritual drought. I feel like I'm living on auto-pilot, still doing--gotta keep doing!--but not feeling anything. I am tired and weary, without the energy to exert myself in prayer and study. So I speak and I read but I feel a bewildering gap between myself and the Savior.

I know that the windows of heaven are still open and still pouring out blessings on me, but my eyes are drooping and I often miss them. It startles me to have friends and family point out great blessings in my life, tender mercies of great value that I have not noticed. I have been grateful for their comments, which spark my gratitude. Yet I do not feel that joy and awe that I usually associate with it.

It's not that I have never felt this distance before. But I have never felt it when I was still trying to strengthen my testimony, to do what is right. I have never felt more keenly my separation from God, this ever-present trial of mortality. And it has never seemed such a struggle to maintain my faith.

When it has seemed too much to bear and doubt has threatened to overtake my faith, I have been sustained by remembering God's tender mercies in the past.

I've had many opportunities to be grateful for that reserve these past few weeks. Although I know that great faith has a short shelf life and that I must regain my spiritual footing soon, still I have felt a small measure of renewal by tapping into my memories of faith. When I have taken the time to review God's constancy, I have not felt a sudden burst of enlightenment but I have been granted the grim determination to continue.

In looking back on the experiences recorded in this blog and in my journal, I have remembered, as though from a dream, "in whom I have trusted." Like Nephi, "my God hath been my support; he hath lead me through mine afflictions ... he hath filled me with his love, even unto the consuming of my flesh". Because of this, I cannot allow my heart to weep or my strength to slacken. (2 Nephi 4)

I must instead trust that God is with me, as He always has been.

Religions of the World

2009-03-06T07:57:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading a book about world religions last week. In spite of the fact that it was very educational, I enjoyed it immensely and would recommend it as an interesting and quick (for a textbook) read.

In reading this book, I discovered that there is much of goodness and truth in the religions of the world. I came to understand, in part, how the light of Christ is "in all things". And I gained a testimony that people all over the world have had their eyes enlightened by their Creator, who loves them.

I have come to appreciate the many founders of world religions. Just as I learned long ago to love the story of Joseph Smith and his quest to find--and then restore--truth to a floundering world, I now love the stories of many other enlightened leaders.

Like Buddha, who urged his followers to be freed from their worldly desires and seek spiritual knowledge instead.

Like Mohammad, who led an idolatrous people away from their false pantheon to the God of Abraham.

Like Confucius, who taught the importance and eternal nature of family relationships.

Like Zarathustra, who preached of one God, who could save His people from sin and death.

But of all the stories and all the philosophies, none impressed me so much as the story and teachings of Christ. Although I found some portion of His influence in all the religions I studied, there was only one that actually had a correct understanding of Him.

When I read the opening paragraphs of the chapter about Christianity, I felt the Spirit wash over me with great strength, testifying of His divinity and His glorious mission.

In that moment, I knew again that He really was the Son of God, a being of power and perfection, and that he died to atone for our sins. I knew that he really did rise again and can accomplish that same miracle for all of us. I knew that it is only through Him, the Only Way, that we can be made holy and worthy to enter our Father's presence.

Although it is important for the peoples of the world to practice moral thinking and behavior, it is imperative for them to believe in the Savior, Jesus Christ. There is transformative power in learning of and accepting His atonement, power we all need. Because of this, Christianity offers the truth that really matters: the truth about Christ.

I am grateful to be a Christian.

The Reverent Baby

2009-02-25T07:57:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I feel like I spend a significant amount of space on this blog complaining about how naughty my boy is in sacrament meeting.

There is a reason for this. I can say--without a doubt in my mind--that sacrament meeting is the hardest hour of my week. My dear, rambunctious son makes that hour my crucible of fire. But because of my struggle, it is also the hour when God can bless and uplift me the most. It has the capacity of being an hour for tender mercies, which is what this blog is all about and why those stories keep popping up on my website.

Still, I often feel that I am disproportionately whiny about my son, who is actually one of my life's greatest joys. I feel like I am doing him an injustice, putting up on the web how he kicks and pees and shouts in church when I never write about the way he smiles and plays and sleeps and touches my heart at home.

But today that all changes. Today I want to share how mild and agreeable my son was in church this past Sunday.

Soren and I went to church alone. Scott was home, sick in bed, leaving me to face my most trying hour alone. Or so I thought, in my melodramatic worrying. All alone; how would I manage all alone? I spent the drive to church bracing for the impact.

Which couldn't have been more unnecessary. I have never had so much help as I did on that Sunday. How could I have forgotten? We are never alone.

First, Soren's friend, Sequoia, and her family came to sit with us. Soren and Sequoia swapped toys and treats, enjoying the novelty of someone else's stuff. Soren shared his Book of Mormon pop-up with Sequoia and she lent him The Amazing Life of Jesus, with enough flip tabs to occupy him for the majority of the meeting.

That family was a tender mercy of my God, a timely blessing in my moment of need.

Then Amy and Kathy, my two baby-loving visiting teachees, came to sit behind us. Whenever Soren turned around and looked at them, they made silly faces and invited him into their laps. Thee change back and forth between rows was like a dream come true for Soren. He didn't have to be constantly attempting escape from his one confining pew; that escape was offered frequently and used up his need for constant movement.

I think that those women were prompted by my Heavenly Father to help me.

Finally, I felt like the Holy Ghost was there, aiding me, and that Soren could feel His presence like never before. I felt that God placed an invisible, calming hand on my son. He folded his arms and sat quietly for the sacrament prayers, a hitherto underheardof event. He sat in my lap and waved his arms to the music during congregational singing. And all his babbling was in a whisper, as though he felt the sacredness of the time and place.

I can only describe that sabbath day as a miracle. I got to hear the messages present, feel the sacredness of the ordinances performed, and enjoy the feelings of love and peace that can be present in our worship services. It seemed that even Soren could feel how special that time was.

I am so grateful that, once again, my loving Father made Himself manifest to me in during that sacred hour.

The Only Alien on the Planet

2009-02-21T21:20:00.000-08:00

"The overall impact of this psychological novel is so powerful." - Booklist

I have a friend who never fails to recommend only books that I will absolutely love. Everyone needs a friend like this; I'm glad I have found mine.

Last week she lent me The Only Alien on the Planet, by Kristen D. Randle. It was actually a book I had heard great things about and seen prominently displayed in local bookstores. But the cover art was distasteful (strike one) and the back-of-the-book synopsis seemed boring and possibly weird (strike two). I was quite sure there weren't any aliens in it (strike three) and so I never read it.

But my always-reliable friend had lent it to me and if she liked it, I could at least give the first chapter a glance.

From the first chapter to the last page, I couldn't put The Only Alien on the Planet down and the first word out of my mouth when I closed the cover at the conclusion was, "Wow."

It's a book about the transformative and redeeming power of friendship, as explored through the relationship between Ginny, the new girl on the block, and Smitty, a strange boy at school who never speaks. The book explores man's power to choose his own destiny, a topic that has interested me very much lately. In spite of the non-textbook resolution, the ultimate triumph of the characters (over external and internal battles) was very satisfying and empowering.

When I picked it up, I wasn't expecting to enjoy it, much less give it an honored place among the many books I read each week. But this was a book that invited the Holy Ghost into my heart and one that I definitely feel was inspired of God.

Laughter

2009-02-18T15:34:00.000-08:00

I think laughter is a gift from our loving God and I am grateful for this gift.

There is something powerful in this simple response. Laughing can change frustration into mirth, anger into forgiveness, and bitter grief into sweet recollection. I can think of countless occasions when laughing has transformed me, pushing out the bitter and making room for the love of God. Laughing at my life makes me more grateful and optimistic.

And laughing makes me a much, much better mother.

An example: A few weeks ago in church, Soren was having his usual squirming-and-squawking fit. His little body seemed to take up our whole pew as he flailed about. His voice seemed to fill the whole chapel. I couldn't hear a word that was being said at the pulpit and I was sure that none of my neighbors could, either.

Many of you more patient parents may not understand the way I felt: I wanted to dump him in Scott's lap, run away, screaming in frustration.

Instead, I held out until the intermediate hymn. Surely I could juggle Soren until the intermediate hymn and then I would let Scott take a turn. There was respite in sight.

When the chorister stood up and the prelude to The Time is Far Spent began, I gratefully stood up to join the congregation in singing. I balanced Soren on my hip and hoped that the music would calm him.

Shrink not from your duty, however unpleasant

Instead of listening in awe, like he usually does during the singing of hymns, Soren squirmed to be let down. Then he wailed when his feet hit the floor.

But follow the Savior, your pattern and friend.

So I picked him back up and tried to hold him steady while he clawed at my shoulders and face. I wanted to throw him from me in frustration. Instead I sang and bounced with all my might.

Our little afflictions, tho painful at pleasant

Soren grabbed at my hair and gave it a powerful yank, perhaps thinking he could use it to climb up on top of my head, the only place he had yet to be that morning.

Ere long with the righteous, in glory will end.

How can I explain how funny that was to me at that very moment? "Our little afflictions, tho painful at present, ere long with the righteous, in glory will end." I suddenly couldn't stop laughing. Soren was definitely being a Little Affliction, quite painful at present, and the hymn promised an end to the pain. It was too perfect, too appropriate and I couldn't keep myself from chortling through the remaining verses. Much to the dismay of those in the pews in front of and behind me.

I don't think I can ever appropriately recapture that moment. It won't make you laugh when you read about it and I don't laugh thinking about it now. But in that moment, the laughter that bubbled out of me felt like a gift from my Heavenly Father. He loved me and knew exactly how I felt, there in church with my beloved son and little affliction.

I squeezed Soren tight, so tight that he let go of my hair and then laughed too. Then I whispered to my husband (with a meaningful look at the hymn-book lyrics), "Soren is our Little Affliction". He gave a little chuckle, then seemed to take heart as we sang the remaining verses, which all dealt with the need to endure.

The rest of the meeting passed much more happily. Even though Soren wasn't a bit more still or quiet, we were awash with gratitude for him and for that moment of mirth. I felt transformed by that laughter and I know that it helped bolster my patience and love.

Spiritual Evidence

2009-02-10T07:51:00.000-08:00

I was washing dishes about a week ago and thinking about the Book of Mormon. I was thinking about the extraordinary circumstances surrounding its translation and publication in the 1820s. In particular, I was wondering how any clear-thinking person could doubt that God himself had aided Joseph Smith in bringing forth this remarkable book.

"Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon (over 500 pages) by the gift and power of God in about 60 days. During the translation process, Joseph dictated one line at a time, but did not pause to review previous sentences or pages. There is no evidence that he had any notes, manuscripts, or documents to assist him during the translation. There is also no evidence that Joseph Smith did any research or much reading at all before he published the Book of Mormon. The resulting book, with its complex account of individuals, communities and nations, religious teachings and source materials is internally consistent and evidence in itself that Joseph Smith did not write it. That Joseph Smith actually had the golden plates for a period in the late 1820s has been established by 11 witnesses who saw the plates and handled them" (Gospel Topics).

That is absolutely amazing. However much of Joseph Smith's testimony and the testimonies of his associates you choose to believe, one fact is undeniable: it was brought forth by an uneducated man in an unthinkably short period of time. Read it and you will be unable to believe that Joseph Smith just made it up. Read it and you will know that he was a prophet of God.

Sometimes I know the scriptures are true because there is no other logical explanation.

***

But then on Sunday I was talking to Scott about the Genesis account of Adam and Eve, which we have been studying in our Gospel Essentials class. I wondered how I could possibly reconcile my belief in the veracity of the Bible with my modern knowledge of human history. How could Adam possibly have been the first man when, according to the Bible, he lived only 6000 years ago? Not only is there significant scientific evidence to suggest that the human species has existed for upwards of 100,000 years, there is archeological evidence that even human civilizations predate the creationist time line.

It seems probable to me that some significant chunks of the creation story are missing from the book of Genesis. Perhaps they have merely been oversimplified.

My doubts about a literal interpretation of the Old Testament do not diminish my belief in the Earth's divine design and God's direct hand in the creation of man. But it does leave me wondering how much of the Bible I should take at face-value and how much of current scientific thought I should withhold judgment on.

Sometimes I can't decide between any number of unconvincing explanations to reconcile my testimony and the "real" world.

***

For the past couple of days I have been thinking about these two experiences and the possible dichotomy they present me with.

On the first occasion, I remember thinking, How could any intelligent person doubt the truth of the gospel? It's the only explanation! And yet on Sunday, I thought, How could any intelligent person buy any of this? It just doesn't make any sense!

Which is why, in the end, I am grateful for the witness of the Holy Ghost.

There is another way to know the most important truths of life. We do not have to rely on empirical evidence alone to learn the principles of salvation. When we try to approach God's truth with our minds alone, we will sometimes be rewarded with very convincing evidence. But the most definitive and enduring witness comes not from man and his limited intellect, but from our God, who knows all and cannot lie.

I am grateful for my faith, which sustains me in the face of all opposition. I have gained a spiritual witness of the existence of God, the Atonement of Christ, the truth of the Book of Mormon, and the plan of happiness, which encompasses both the origin and destiny of Man. Those vital spiritual truths make up the most precious knowledge that I have and are more sure to me than anything I have gained through logical or scientific methods.

My testimony is strengthened by the historical evidence of Joseph Smith's remarkable work. And it cannot be diminished because I don't know exactly how or when God created the human race.

Endure to the End

2009-02-04T14:20:00.000-08:00

I am very grateful for the simplicity of the gospel.

Some days I love to sink deeper and deeper into layers of meaning found in the scriptures. On occasion I like to contemplate the big picture and try to wrap my mortal brain around a divine (and possibly 4-dimensional) design. Often I find a new way to understand and approach the gospel, which awakens and rededicates my soul.

But most of the time I am very grateful that God's plan for me is simple enough for even a child to understand.

This is what I must do to be saved:
1. Have faith in my Savior, Jesus Christ.
2. Repent of my sins.
3. Be baptized, by proper authority, into His church.
4. Receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.
5. Endure to the end.

On days like today, I am very grateful for this very simple plan, made possible by the Atonement of Jesus Christ. When I feel overwhelmed or spiritually-detached, it is a comfort to remember what is required: faith and endurance.

Faith and endurance.

That means I keep trying. That means I get up and do the best I can. That means set-backs are only temporary and the only way I can fail is if I give up.

And in the end it means that it all hangs on Christ and my trust in His power.

Update on Goals

2009-01-31T08:02:00.000-08:00

A good friend of mine put up a post the other day that reminded me of how important it is to keep striving for goals, even when it seems that I am failing.

And so I thought it would be useful for me to report on my New Years Resolutions, some of which are not going so hot but which I now definitely intend to keep working on. I am grateful for the experiences I have had this month, which reaffirm my belief in every person's ability to reach goals and make positive changes in their life. It just might not be as immediately as we would hope.

On reading the Old Testament: I just barely started it this past week and so far, I've been able to get a handful of chapters in every day. But boy-oh-boy, it is very challenging. It is hard to pull the gospel principles out of the strange and truncated stories in the book of Genesis. I have found that a prayer before I start doesn't really illuminate the text but it does give me a sense of its sacred character and its importance in my life.

On my insurance's health program: Well, I gotta laugh at myself about this one. The cutback on refined sugars was really too sudden for me. I did great for about a week and then the serious cravings set in. So, I caved. The first ice cream pie could never have been the allowed 20% failure rate. It was the first in an avalanche of delicious treats and easily accessible goodies. Needless to say, I did not succeed in this particular challenge. But that doesn't mean I can't keep trying. We'll see what next month's challenge is.

On giving a harp recital: I am picking up a new song this month. It's the Bach-Grandjany Fugue No. 12. But, because of a long trip visiting my family, I haven't had time to finish learning it yet. That (and memorizing the Jolly Piper) will be my goals for next month.

On our gospel-sharing home: We invited our downstairs neighbors over for Family Home Evening this month. I was super nervous about it but it turned out to be a great success. We prayed together and then read a story from a book my brother, Brinton, gave us for Christmas (The 7 Habits of Happy Kids). We made cookies and then the girls played Phase 10 dice while the boys played Lego Star Wars, the video game. All in all, a very successful evening.

Thomas S. Monson - Prophet of God

2009-01-26T08:09:00.000-08:00

I was listening to the first session of the last general conference while I was doing the dishes this morning. For some reason, I decided to play the whole session rather than picking just one talk. That meant I got to listen to some of the parts I usually just skip (like the choir, the prayer, and President Monson's opening remarks).

I was scrubbing away at a filthy glass baking dish when, quite suddenly, the Spirit washed over me. I looked up from my work, a little confused. President Monson was describing the folkloric costumes worn by dancers at a celebration he had recently attended. I couldn't understand why I would feel so very strongly about that.

Then the Holy Ghost spoke to me in its penetrating but inaudible way. The words entered my mind with great force: "That man is the prophet of God." And I felt the witness of the Spirit, undeniable even though it is inexplicable. It feels like a burning in my chest, like a bolstering of my soul, and like a moment of clarity, lifting a haze of mortality I didn't even know was blinding me.

I know what the Holy Ghost feels like and when it speaks to me, I know that I can be as sure of its witness as I can of any other empirical evidence. And so, especially today, I know that Thomas S. Monson is the mouthpiece of God just as I know that there is snow out my window.

I am grateful for that unexpected witness, which I definitely count among the tender mercies of my Father.

My Missionary Miracle

2009-01-21T13:04:00.000-08:00

In November of 2008, I decided to take up an oft-cited and oft-ignored challenge regarding missionary work. One iteration of this challenge is from Ezra Taft Benson's prophetic general conference address from April 1988. He said, "The Lord needs every member of the church having the faith and the courage to set a date to have someone prepared to be taught by the missionaries. Would each member of the church prayerfully consider this sacred challenge?"

I've heard this challenge offered by many general authorities and local leaders in my lifetime. In November of last year I finally decided to take it seriously. I began to pray daily that by January 31st I would be able to share the truths of the restored gospel with someone and invite them to be taught by the missionaries.

That was in November. You can imagine how disheartened I was to be leaving on a trip to visit my family mid-January having not yet met my goal. I felt that I was waiting for a miracle and, having found out that my one non-member friend was in fact a member, it seemed increasingly unlikely. I must admit, my faith was flagging.

While visiting my mother's ward in Houston, TX, their high-counselor gave a talk that gave me new hope. He shared an experience that had me on the edge of my seat. He spoke of a very familiar challenge and said that he had, in the past year, set a date to share the Book of Mormon with someone. His date had been December 31, 2008. He said that when he set the date, he had no one in mind to share the gospel with and that the time given elapsed quickly. He said that he had been traveling on the 20th of December (just 11 days before the deadline for his goal) and found himself on an airplane flight sitting next to a young mother. He said that they struck up a conversation about history, which led to a discussion of religion. He said that he felt impressed by the Holy Ghost to share his beliefs with her and invite her to read the Book of Mormon. She responded very positively. He concluded by sharing his testimony that God had answered his prayers and helped him to reach his goal. He said that the woman had been prepared to receive his message and that when he had opened his mouth to talk to her, the Lord had filled it.

I felt tingles up and down my spine. Here I was, about to fly home to Utah on the 20th of January (just 11 days before the deadline of my goal). The Spirit whispered to me in its piercing voice, And so it will be for you.

Because I am writing this post, I am sure you can guess the ending. But it is still a wondrous miracle to me. I was on the last leg of my plane flight, about to take off and sitting in a completely empty row, when a man rushed up and sat down next to me. He joked about having nearly missed his flight over a Bloody Mary in the Admiral's Lounge. He was course and intimidating. Surely this could not be the man I was supposed to bear my testimony to. Surely he could not be the answer to my prayers, the person I would invite to hear the missionary's message. I must have misunderstood the Spirit's prompting because there was no way this man and I could have anything in common from which to start a conversation.

But he was a talker. He asked me if I was going home and did I live in Utah? I told him I was from Salt Lake City. I do not kid when I share his words. He said, "Oh, so you must be a Mormon. Tell me about your church." I think my heart jumped up in my throat. I had been too timid to initiate the conversation myself but God had surely prepared this man to restore my faith, just as He prepared me to share truth with him.

I told him about the first vision and the restoration of God's true church. We talked about the reality of the apostasy and the wonderful truth of continuing revelation through modern prophets. We backtracked a bit and spoke about the reality of God's existence and the necessity of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. He believed in a loving God but struggled with the concept of a divine Redeemer. I had the opportunity to share my testimony about Jesus Christ with Him and we discussed the concept of truth that is spiritually known. He was very affected during that part of the conversation.

When the three-hour trip was over, I invited him to visit some of the sites in Salt Lake, particularly temple square and welfare square. I told him that there would be representatives from our church there who could teach him further about the truths we had discussed during our flight. I fulfilled my challenge to invite someone to listen to the missionaries.

I do not know what has happened to him now. I do not know what will happen with him in the future. I do know that the Lord helped me to fulfill my goal. I do know that God wants me to take very seriously and optimistically His commandment to spread the good news of Jesus Christ and His restored church.

A New Year

2009-01-06T09:25:00.000-08:00

Obviously, this post is a little belated. But I've been ruminating on the topic of new beginnings for a week or so now and those musings have finally resulted in the urge to write. So we have this post about the new year a week after its time.

I am very excited about 2009. I usually am really stoked when the year turns over. Nothing seems as auspicious as setting a goal with a bran-spanking-new year stretching out, unblemished, before me. I never feel quite as empowered or so granted the gift of renewal as I do upon waking up on January 1.

That gift of potential change is manifest in goal-setting. I believe in New Year's resolutions. Even if I fall short of my year-long goal, those resolutions embue an otherwise cold and dreary January with optimism and hope. And sometimes I have even had the surprising joy of remembering a goal I made the year before and seeing how closely I was able to realize it. Sometimes December 31 is a time to celebrate changes that have already taken place, just as January 1 is a time to celebrate changes that may occur.

My New Years Resolutions this year are ambitious, but attainable. I want to share them here, in this pseudo-permanent and definitely public forum, to encourage myself.

***

1. This year I want to read the Old Testament. I've never read it cover-to-cover before and I know that it would be a valuable experience. I believe the Bible is the word of God and I think it's time that I remedied my neglect of the first half of that holy book.

2. This year I want to complete my insurance's health challenge program. They set reasonable goals (meaning an 80% instead of 100% expectation) and offer a cash reward for completing them. This month's challenge is to replace sugary snacks with fruit and vegetables 80% of the time. I'm excited about pitting myself against that beastly goal.

3. This year I want to give a harp recital. The real thrust behind this goal is to encourage myself to practice and learn new music. Performing is more the reward.

4. This year I want to implement Elder Ballard's 2006 General Conference address, "Creating a Gospel-Sharing Home" by inviting a non-member over to my house once a month. As I only know one non-member family right now, this will probably be the biggest challenge for me.

***

I believe in man's power to change. This is the greatest manifestation of God's gift of agency in our lives. Because we are free to choose, no one is stuck in a cycle of repeating past mistakes. Because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, everyone can repent and start anew. Because of His eternal and infinite sacrifice, we can access divine power when we desire real change in our life.

I am grateful for Christ's Atonement, the greatest gift of Christmas and the hope for a happy new year.

The Church is True Everywhere

2008-12-29T10:24:00.000-08:00

Scott, Soren, and I are still visiting family in Illinois and yesterday we attended church at my in-laws ward.

It was a wonderful meeting. I was comforted to find that, even while away from my usual routine and predictable surroundings, my church meetings are pretty much the same: rejuvinating.

While some people may joke that the church is more true in Utah, that's just not the case. We really can rely on the presentation of true doctrine and exactness of sacred ordinances wherever we go.

And, while trying to figure out why this amazed me so much, I realized that it hasn't always been the case.

In the years following the death of Christ, His church was definitely more true in some places than others. Or at least, some doctrines were better preserved in some places than others. In fact, the epistles seem to suggest that nearly everywhere had major doctrinal issues. Even before world-wide apostacy, some congregations twisted the doctrine of Christ and then disceminated their warped teaches. Sometimes they went uncorrected for long stretches of time. Paul was constantly trying to correct funny ideas people had allowed to corrupt the church in their area.

In the early days of the restored church, the saints were commanded to gather in one place, which helped to keep the gospel standard. It wasn't until communication and travel improved that we were admonished to build up Zion where we were.

And now, with near-instantaneous communication and ease of world-wide travel, we can have a church of God that is consistent throughout the world. Our doctrines are no longer subject to regional boundaries and the whims of misguided Christians. The truth can be uniformly presented the entire world over and the same Spirit can touch hearts in many tongues and lands.

And I can't tell the difference between a meeting in Utah and one in Illinois. That's amazing! Surely the Lord's hand is in this work.

Heat

2008-12-22T20:43:00.000-08:00

We're visiting Scott's family in Illinois for Christmas and it is 2 degrees Farenheit outside.

The wind is blowing furiously, as though to force that biting chill into bundled-up passersby and through tightly-sealed cracks. The snow is piling up around the doors and windows. When I stepped out for a moment, the frigid air clean took my breath away and I could have sworn that my nose hairs froze.

I'm pretty sure that it's fatally cold out there.

It makes me grateful to be safe and warm in my in-laws home. It's a marvel that I can be appreciating air about 70 degrees warmer than the natural conditions.

A Christmas Carol

2008-12-16T09:48:00.000-08:00

"Why is the story A Christmas Carol so popular? Why is it ever new? I personally feel it is inspired of God. It brings out the best within human nature. It gives hope. It motivates change." - Thomas S. Monson

This Christmas, I finally read Charles Dickens' classic, A Christmas Carol. It was the perfect accompaniment to the holiday season, just what I needed to stir up some Christmas cheer.

Of his purpose in writing this tale, Dickens said, "I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it." He was trying to infuse our homes with the Christmas "Ghost", or Christmas Spirit as we call it.

And he accomplished his goal marvelously. I am now haunted by a spirit of goodwill and bothered by the urgency of mortality.

I recommend this book to everyone at any time, but especially at Christmas. When you read it, you will want to shout out (as Scrooge does), "I am not the man I was before!"

Christmas-time

2008-12-14T16:25:00.000-08:00

I had a thought today in church. Since I was juggling a wriggling, squawking baby who wanted nothing more than to fall to the floor and crawl through the pews at lightning speed, it's a wonder that I could think anything at all.

But I did have a thought today.

I was trying to look over my lurching child's head at the podium. There were potted poinsettias on either side of the microphone and a youth speaker, the daughter of my visiting teaching companion, was beginning her remarks. She was addressing the topic of gratitude.

"I thought gratitude was an appropriate topic, since this is the holiday season," she began. And although that was only an opening comment, it sent my brain on a tailspin that occupied it for the remainder of her talk.

I thought about why gratitude would be particularly pertinent during the holidays. And in pondering that, I thought about how people are so much more Christian at Christmas.

I thought about the spirit of giving and gratitude that infuses our nation with new life. I thought about the charities that spring up on street corners, confident that people will be willing to share more of their time and money. I thought about the families that make a special effort to go to church, or read the scriptures, or pray. I thought about our desire to beautify our surroundings at Christmas and our increased willingness to forgive.

I thought about the changes Christmas affects in me: how I want to smile and say "hello" to everyone I pass on the street, how I want to show special attention to my family and friends, how I want to share the rich things of life with strangers.

And then I thought of other times when a similar change has been wrought upon me or upon the world. I thought of how that enthusiasm for giving and that fierce faith and optimism is rarely ushered in without tragedy. Our stories of faith, hope, and charity seem to be most concentrated in one of two times: Christmas or following a large-scale disaster.

How extraordinary! It usually takes drastic measures for God to rekindle the faith of His people. But His spirit touches us even in our wealth and security at Christmas-time.

I was thinking about this while Soren was peeing in my lap. I was still marveling while I changed his diaper (and clothes) in the mother's room. There is such power in this season. For those who believe, it is the power of a love that can change the world.

Oh how grateful I am for Christmas-time! Today it seemed to me a divinely appointed season, a chance to remember the Savior as He commanded without being compelled by tragedy.

The First Gift of Christmas

2008-12-11T15:07:00.000-08:00

Today Soren and I walked Scott to the train stop a little earlier than usual. It was very very cold. Soren was wrapped snugly up in a blanket with a hand-knit hat on his head when we started the trip but, due to his irrepressible need for constant motion, he was free of both hat and blanket by the time we began the walk back. His little socks were slipping off his feet, his nose was bright red, and standing tears were nearly frozen in his eyes.

I wrapped my enormous Hufflepuff scarf around his little body for extra warmth while we waited at the last crosswalk.

When it was our turn to cross, Phyllis the crossing guard, who had been standing on the opposite street corner, pulled out her big orange sign to escort across the street. Once we were on the other side, she pulled an oversized Christmas bag out of her wire buggy.

"Someone left this here with me this morning with instructions to give it to the first mother and baby I saw," she said, passing the gift bag to me.

"Thank you," I gushed, very flustered and curious.

"Well, it's not from me," she said, smiling.

"Soren, do you want to see what you got?" I asked in an animated voice to my swaddled but still shivering son. I opened the bag and almost wanted to cry.

There was an enormous fur hat with ear flaps, two tiny pairs of mittens, warm 12-month-sized booties, and a weather protection cover for the stroller.

I had worried that it was getting too cold for Soren and I to walk with Scott in the mornings anymore. But because of the generosity of a stranger, we all went out the next day and Soren was the warmest of us all.

In Memory of Joseph B. Wirthlin

2008-12-06T10:34:00.000-08:00

Each life that touches ours for good
Reflects thine own great mercy, Lord;
Thou sendest blessings from above
Thru words and deeds of those who love.

In my freshman year of college, my religion professor encouraged each of his students to find out which scriptural prophet or latter-day apostle spoke most clearly to us. Just as Nephi loved the words of Isaiah and delighted in the gospel through those teachings, my professor invited all of us to better love the words of God through one of His most personally potent mouthpieces.

I knew immediately who it was for me. Although I appreciated the writings of every ancient authority and the teachings of every modern mouthpeice, it was the words of Joseph B. Wirthlin that sunk deep into my heart and propelled me toward repentance.

I first appreciated his orderly mind. Elder Wirthlin gave step-by-step instructions for salvation, as in his general conference address, "Three Choices". He made the gospel seem manage-able and in this way was able to encourage me to be better without overwhelming me with my unending list of faults.

Although it was the structure of his teachings that first caught my attention, I was later impressed by the simplicity of Elder Wirthlin's message. In his most recent remarks ("Come What May, and Love It"), he said, "The simple secret is this: put your trust in the Lord and do your best. Then leave the rest to Him."

His unshakable testimony became a light in my life. I was particularly impressed by his October 2006 talk entitled "Sunday Will Come". It was given in the year of his wife's passing and focused on Elder Wirthlin's mighty testimony of the resurrection. As it was also given during the first few months of my marriage, that example of love and hope became the bedrock of my testimony of eternal families.

This week Elder Wirthlin died. He lived and served for 91 years. His wisdom and compassion enabled him to touch many souls. His teachings have been a tender mercy in my life.

The Living Water

2008-12-05T10:33:00.000-08:00

On Wednesday night I went to a Relief Society Enrichment activity that will probably stand forever in my mind as the most enriching Enrichment I have ever been to.

As a part of the beautiful evening, a dozen of the sisters in our ward performed the program "Women at the Well" by Kenneth Cope. It's a musical presentation that tells the stories of women who knew the Savior during His mortal ministry. What a perfect accompaniment to the Christmas season! How better to celebrate the birth of our Lord than by remembering the lives of people He touched?

I felt richly blessed listening to the singers. I was grateful for their testimonies and preparation, which were a tender mercy of the Lord in my life. They were instruments in God's hands that night. Their music was so much more than the words or the notes; the spirit and love they sang with was almost tangible. Every one of them was a ministering angel to me that night.

The message of the program was taken from Christ's words to the Samaritan woman who had come to draw water from a well were He sat resting. "Jesus answered and said unto her, Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." (John 4:13-14)

Christ is the living water. Through daily prayer and scripture study, I have caught a glimpse of the fulfillment of that promise He made to the Samaritan woman. As I learn of Him and by the power of the Holy Ghost, Christ fills my cup with His living water every day.

But while attending that activity on Wednesday night, I felt my already brimming cup become like a well springing up inside of me. I was overflowing with the love of God. The combination of music and sisterhood and spiritual affirmation was more than my little cup could hold.

What a tender mercy. What a special experience.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-30T23:01:00.000-08:00

I love Thanksgiving! I'm sorry I didn't get in on the online spirit of thankfulness and put up a big list but I was a little busy over the holiday. Wonderfully busy.

I did take time to be grateful. Even better, I got to hear friends and family members be grateful. We counted our blessings while we ate our pomegranate, sitting around the picked-over table and feeling satisfied. The time spent united in thankfulness was a wonderful blessing in and of itself.

Now that I'm back on the internet, making the rounds, the joy of Thanksgiving is hitting me all over again. All of your blogs are tender mercies to me today. Reading about the things you are grateful for reminds me all over again of God's love.

In church today, one of the speakers said something that encapsulates how I feel about Thanksgiving. He said, "Gratitude helps us feel the constant flow of blessings between the heavens and us." And that's so true. God loves us and He is always blessing us. But when we are grateful, we notice those blessings.

From personal experience, I know that recognizing His tender mercies makes them that much more powerful.

And at Thanksgiving, we're all doing it! We're all being grateful! We're creating our massive lists and recognizing God's hand in every aspect of our lives! No wonder the world seems a little brighter and more full of hope on Thanksgiving.

I've been thinking today about how glad I am that we kick off the holiday season with a day of gratitude. It's a day when no one receives anything but is grateful for the things they already have.

With this blog and in my daily prayers, I try to observe a spirit of gratitude every day. But oh, how I love Thanksgiving! There is power in that special day.

Pomegranates

2008-11-26T12:06:00.000-08:00

I am so grateful for food, in all its marvelous varieties.

Last weekend, Scott and I went grocery shopping to pick up our Thanksgiving essentials. We purchased turkey and potatoes and onions and garlic (lots of garlic). We got pumpkin for a decadent pie and creamed corn for a hearty stuffing. We also picked up vanilla ice cream and assorted aromatics.

But most importantly, we got our yearly pomegranate.

A few years ago, Scott and I started our very first tradition as a fledgling family. It was Thanksgiving and pomegranates were on sale at Smith's. I'd never had one before and they looked so tasty. Scott taught me how to pick a good one: you pretty much want the heaviest one you can find--as long as it's without blemishes.

I remember how we carried our Thanksgiving purchases home that year. The bags banged against my legs as we walked across the street to our complex then carried them up the outer staircase and turned the key to our door. Our one-room studio apartment was small and frigid; it seemed completely incongruous with the rich mound of groceries we piled on the kitchen table. And the most exciting treasure in that plentiful collection was our pomegranate.

As soon as the rest of the food was put away, we broke into the exotic delicacy. As we peeled away the rind and filled a bowl with the tiny fruit-covered seeds, Scott told me about pomegranates.

The pomegranate carried great significance for the Hebrews. Firstly, it was a symbol of fertility. One fruit carries upwards of 600 seeds! The Hebrew high priest wore a robe decorated with a trim shaped like dangling pomegranates to remind the people of God's promise that Abraham's seed would number more than the stars in the sky or grains of sand on the seashore. In the desert, the people would multiply just like the pomegranate.

In addition, the moisture-hogging plant that bore pomegranate fruits was expensive to maintain in the desert, at least in the time before Christ. In spite of their delicious and useful yield, pomegranates were very rare and consequently associated with royalty. Tradition has it that Solomon modeled his crown after the calyx on top of the fruit. From this comes the traditional spiked ring we think of as a crown today. The delicious little seeds were rarely eaten and the bright dye was jealously hoarded to make a king's purple robes.

This fruit of priests and kings, this rare delicacy of ages past, was ours to enjoy on that chilly November afternoon. Scott and I were students and newly married, living on below-poverty-level wages in the cheapest apartment we could find. But we could afford that pomegranate, a luxury anciently reserved for royalty.

That stark contrast between our bountiful lives and the meager lifestyle of our predecessors brought into sharp relief our need to be grateful. As we enjoyed the sweet fruit of the pomegranate and stained our fingers with its purple dye, we talked about God's tender mercies. Our gratitude was especially sweet that year as we considered what we had, not what we lacked.

This year, our circumstances seem opulent to me. Yet with our cupboards overflowing with bounty and our stomachs rumbling in anticipation, it is the tradition of the pomegranate that I most look forward to. The symbol of the pomegranate seems even more potent to me now. I have been granted queenly blessings for the time being and promised a divine inheritance in the life to come.

There is much to be thankful for.

Trials?

2008-11-25T13:55:00.000-08:00

Scott often teases me about my desire for trials. Yesterday he painted a verbal picture of our family in apocalyptic times for me. He said, "I can just see us, gathered around a pitiful fire in the freezing cold. Over the coals would be hanging our dinner: a pot of water with chopped up leather shoes floating in it. And still you'd be saying, 'It's just not fair! There are people out there without even shoes to eat! We're not being tried enough!'"

His jokes sting because they're true, to a certain degree. Sometimes I really am that ungrateful.

While I have so much to be thankful for, I'm increasingly uncomfortable with my ease, happiness, and prosperity. I don't have to look far to see people who are hungry, cold, lonely, confused, or ignorant through no fault of their own. I sometimes wish I could trade places with them. Sometimes I wish I could give them my secure and comfortable life while taking on their challenging one.

It's never a good idea to wish for trials.

But I sometimes wonder: Does God think I just couldn't handle it? Then I realize it's my pride and not my compassion that has got me pining for trouble.

I told Scott yesterday, "One of these days we're going to wake up and find we've lost everything. And you won't be cursing God, you'll be cursing me. It'll be my fault for wishing some great challenge on us."

So, instead of wishing for challenges, I'm trying to understand why I've been blessed as I have. And when I'm feeling particularly brave, I'm trying to gather my resources and pit myself against my neighbors' challenges.

Because I have been given much, I too must give.
Because of thy great mercy, Lord, each day I live.
I shall divide my gifts from thee with every brother that I see,
Thus shall my thanks be thanks indeed.

When I see the inequality in this world and wonder why I emerge unscathed, I learn about the efficiency of God. He allows some of us to be rich and some of us to be poor (either temporally or spiritually) so that we will rely on each other. And the long-suffering saint who gives her widow's mite is no more tried than the wealthy man who is asked to give up everything.

As one who has known little sorrow or misfortune, I am still called to give everything that I have for the building up of Zion. I must gladly receive God's blessings and then turn around and consecrate them all to His work.

Spiritual Fuel

2008-11-24T20:23:00.000-08:00

In Relief Society yesterday, we talked about L. Tom Perry's most recent conference address, "Let Him Do It with Simplicity". In this talk, Elder Perry discusses the four basic necessities of life: food, clothing, shelter, and fuel (both temporal and spiritual).

In these trying financial times, it's easy to be grateful for the necessities (and comforts) I have that money can buy. I try to acknowledge daily that it is by the grace of God that I am fed, clothed, and housed.

But sometimes I forget to thank my Heavenly Father for the bountiful spiritual fuel I receive. It is that most vital fuel that lends me energy and optimism in trying times.

And although I'm usually not as grateful when life is cushy, spiritual fuel is vital in more than just trying situations. My spirit needs constant feeding just like my body does. Christ calls himself the bread and water of life and we are counseled to feast of His words. Too often, though, I find myself starving and thirsting unnecessarily. Denying my spirit sustenance stunts my spiritual growth and leaves me weak and unprepared for challenges. On the other hand, when I spend time every day in prayer and scripture study, I enjoy the attendant blessings.

And still, just as with the temporal blessings I work to enjoy, spiritual fuel is a gift from God and always will be, no matter how hard I work to receive it. My Father has given me His Word, which alone is a tender mercy. In return, He asks that I study and obey. As I try to show Him my gratitude for the words of the prophets by reading and pondering on them, He in turn blesses me with the even greater gift of personal revelation and the accompaniment of His Spirit. Still in His debt, I try to use those gifts to better serve Him but, as I do so, He increases my faith, my hope, and my capacity to love. He makes me over in His image, which is the greatest blessing I could ask for.

These are blessings I could never earn. They are tender mercies from a loving God.

Enough Eggs

2008-11-16T15:44:00.000-08:00

I was sitting on a stool in Alisha's kitchen, crunching graham crackers in a plastic bag to make cheesecake crust. The window behind me was open and frigid air was brushing against my back and up my skirt. The oven in front of me was preheating and even with the door closed, it's warmth spilled into the room. Between the chilly November afternoon at my back and the powerful heat of baking at my front, the room was very comfortable.

Alisha and I were baking for a bridal shower. Our sons were squawking at each other in the next room and the kitchen air was thick with devastatingly delicious smells. I couldn't think of a more pleasant way to spend the afternoon.

"You know, I have exactly the right number of eggs," Alisha commented to me, while cracking a few into her whirling blender.

I smiled and kept crunching crackers, turning them to powder between my fingers.

"I mean, exactly the right amount," she said, turning off the blender and facing me. "Enough for all my baking and then exactly enough left to make deviled eggs to fill this dish."

She wiped her hands on her apron and left the spinning blender blades to hold up a plastic serving dish. I looked up from my task and saw it was a round platter with grooves set in for about twenty eggs.

"Wow, that's cool," I said. "What a coincidence."

Alisha chided, "No, it's not a coincidence. It's because God understands." She smiled as she checked on her batter. "God loves me and He made sure I had enough eggs."

***

Later that evening, I was fixing dinner for my downstairs neighbors.

I would have survived without, but when I opened my egg carton and found just enough eggs for the baked macaroni and cheese I had planned, I felt God's love wash over me. Tears filled my eyes and I fell to my knees in a prayer of thanksgiving.

Such a simple thing. But God loves me and He made sure I had enough eggs.

Scott's Work with Translation

2008-11-15T18:50:00.000-08:00

After I finished my post yesterday, I continued thinking about the value of the scriptures. In particular, I was thinking about the peace I had found while reading the Doctrine and Covenants.

Then my husband came home from his business trip in California. He spent a week there, assembling and training the team who would translate the Doctrine and Covenants into Hmong. It was a long week for me and I was so glad to see him again.

But even as I embraced him, I realized how important that trip had been. I wouldn't have kept him here for anything. I am so proud of him and so grateful to be a part of the work he is doing. After enjoying that very book he was working to offer the Hmong people, I want to offer everything I have, even the precious time spent with my husband, to build up the kingdom of God.

Scott's job is a tender mercy from the Lord to us. Even when he is traveling.

There is Hope Smiling Brightly Before Us

2008-11-14T08:47:00.000-08:00

It seems I can't turn around without reading or hearing another scary story. Financial ruin all over the world; "anthrax" at the Salt Lake and Los Angelos temples; wars in Israel, Iraq, Afghanistan, Congo, Somalia, and South Osetia; devastating earthquakes and hurricanes; parents killing children; children killing parents; and people dying from hunger, disease, and cruelty all over the world.

This is a frightening world we live in.

Sometimes I wonder who's in charge here. Sometimes I want to cry out, "O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?"

God answers even those doubting cries, as he answers all my prayers. He answers them with knowledge, strength, and peace. He answers them through His holy scriptures and the gift of the Holy Ghost.

The prophets have written about our day for millenia. The calamities we face daily have been prophesied and their resolution has been promised. And these prophesies, especially those found in the book of Revelation and section 88 of the Doctrine and Covenants, have been a tender mercy from my Father this week. As I have read and seen our day reflected in the sometimes obscure language, I have been strengthened. My mind has been expanded to include more than our present tumultuous circumstances; it has seen through this crucible to the great day when our Lord comes again.

Because of this scriptural study and the affirming power of the Spirit, I can say this with certainty: God is real. When He set His plan in motion, He knew all of this would happen. He knew it and He still gave us our agency. He gave us the power to choose it for ourselves. Then He prepared a way to save us all, to heal our broken society, and to usher in His kingdom. That way is Christ. Christ can heal each of us individually--this very day!--if we choose to follow His plan for us. But the day will come when Christ will return to set the whole earth aright.

We cannot know the hour of His coming but we can see the signs all around us. Some of the prophesies are still unfulfilled, but I know that God cannot lie and those events will take place. Perhaps it will not happen in my lifetime, but there is hope in knowing that all the promises of God will be fulfilled.

And when the signs of His coming have all been shown, I know He will come again.

The Election is Over

2008-11-05T18:26:00.000-08:00

Scott brought home a copy of a speech given by a general authority of the LDS church in 1978 for me today. It was very pertinent to the dilemma church members in California faced yesterday when voting on Proposition 8. I found it reaffirming and my first thought (after thanking God for the foresight of our leaders) was, I have to put this on my blog!

And then I remembered that the voting is over, Proposition 8 was successful, and the time for arguments is over.

I'm glad that California, Arkansas, and Florida were successful in banning gay marriage in their states. I'm disappointed that my presidential candidate of choice, Bob Barr, took 0 electoral votes (although that was to be expected). I'm glad Jim Matheson will be representing my district in the House of Representatives and wary of the pricy bonds my city will be taking out to finance zoo and aviary renovations.

However, the emotion I feel most strongly is relief. I am so glad that the time for debating is over and the time for peacemaking has come.

Which is true for every election or proposition voted on yesterday. No matter who or what won, I'm just glad that the races are over and the contention can cease. Whether or not we agree with the politicians and policies in place, it's time to band together as Americans and do the best with what we've got. It's time to pull up our bootstraps and get to work. And it's definitely time to show a little more love for those with a different worldview.

Happily, I heard a reiteration of this in Obama's acceptance speech. I'm glad he understands that, in these rough times, every hand is needed to alleviate suffering and right wrongs. I heard in his speech an admission that the government can't solve our problems, it can only lead us to solve them ourselves.

And so this is definitely not the time to throw up our hands and abandon our leaders or laws just because we didn't vote for them. Voting is not the only contribution we make to our nation. It's only the beginning. Now is the time to really get involved.

And that's the blessing of an ended election. As "exciting" as these past few months have been, the important work begins now. And a great day of unity is coming.

The Vote

2008-11-04T11:27:00.000-08:00

It was sleeting so I didn't walk to the polls. I strapped Soren into his car seat instead of his sling and we drove the half-mile to our voting location. I ran from the car into the elementary school, carrying Soren, hunched over to shield him from the freezing rain.

My neighbor, Steve, was one of the voting administrators. I showed him my ID and registration card, explaining that they'd spelled my name wrong (shocker) and would I still be able to vote? He said, "No problem" and gave me a pen to sign the list. Then he passed the voter access card across the table to me and offered a sticker to Soren.

It was still early so there weren't any lines. I balanced Soren on my hip while I touched the electronic voting machine's screen. I got a thrill when my votes were recorded and, although I knew my preferences wouldn't be upheld in every circumstance, I was proud to be a part of the decision-making process. This is my America.

I waved at Paula and Pedro, more neighbors, on my way out. Their 3-year-old daughter was dancing on the auditorium stage while her parents cast their ballots. When she saw me, she stopped and stared with solemn eyes. I hugged Soren tight to me; this is their America, too.

And since then I've been thinking about America and democracy. I've been grateful for God's hand in the forming of this nation, which makes my right to vote a gift from Him. I am grateful for God-given agency and its political counterpart: suffrage. With that right to choose comes the responsibility to choose wisely, to refrain from abusing our power and to keep the good of the whole, not just ourselves, in mind.

I know God's hand directed the founding of this nation. I pray that we will not abuse our powers of agency but will allow Him to continue to direct us.

Happy Arithmetic

2008-11-01T16:33:00.001-07:00

A few days ago, a column in our local newspaper was offering financial advice to the worried consumer wondering where to invest his savings. The advice given by The Salt Lake Tribune was to pay off any consumer debt, which would offer a higher and surer return in the long run than any other investment. The theory is that it would be much better to pay of debts now than it would be to save money for a future in which you are paying off those same debts, only at greater cost.

This advice, and related counsel given by religious leaders, got me thinking. I called our related financial institution and got a payoff quote for the car. Then I looked up our savings account balance. The two numbers were within $50 of each other. Now that's what I call happy arithmetic.

I looked at the numbers. Scott looked at the numbers. We took the leap.

Now we are debt-free.

It's not like our debt was a huge burden or something I worried about very much. It seemed worth incurring and I was always fairly certain we would be able to make the payments. Still, I am elated to be free of it. There's not really a down-side to paying off a loan and making sound financial choices always excites me.

I am so glad we are now free from debt. However, it would be very arrogant of us to take all the credit. Things could have turned out very differently. The Lord has been good to us and we are enjoying relative prosperity. All that we have is really His, a universal fact that is particularly applicable to us since all Scott's paychecks come from God's coffers. And so it is only through His providence that we are (currently) financially secure.

I hope I would still praise and honor Him if all this were taken from me.

A Blogger, Perhaps a Ministering Angel

2008-10-30T15:02:00.000-07:00

There are a few rare and glorious occasions when I stumble upon a blog whose author or purpose really speaks to me. Those are the blogs that inspire me and the people that I thank God for.

Because of Proposition 8, the pro-gay movement has been in the foreground of my thoughts this month (if you couldn't tell). And, although I don't really know very many Californians, there are people I know who are affected by this debate. I knew a lot of homosexuals in high school; some of them were close friends. And then, at BYU, I watched friends struggle with the split between their faith and their sexuality. I have thought of them often and wondered how they felt, a minority watching the rest of the nation argue over their heads about what they should or shouldn't be allowed to do. My heart has especially been grieved for those trying to reconcile an unyielding stance by their church on homosexuality with the reality of their passions.

I always stand behind the leaders of the church and, in so doing, believe I stand where God would have me be. But I mourn for those who are left bereft or confused at their place in His kingdom. I've spent a lot of time on my knees trying to understand God's plan for them.

He ultimately told me that it wasn't my place to request revelation on their behalf. I realized that what was needed on my part was trust, obedience, and compassion. (Which, coincidentally, applies to any commandment. This epiphany has strengthened me in all areas of my life.)

Having come to that conclusion, I prayed to have my faith strengthened. And He gave me an example, an extreme example that would take away my excuses and doubt. I found hope and peace (but not all the answers) at this blog.

And because I know that sometimes God's ministering angels are mortal beings like you and I (who use the internet), I feel confident saying that this blogger writes, in part, as a tender mercy from my Father to me.

Living Oracles

2008-10-28T13:43:00.001-07:00

We thank thee, oh God, for a prophet!

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we hold a semi-annual general conference. At the five-session conference, leaders of the church present gospel messages and counsel pertinent to our day. After the conference, their remarks are published in The Ensign and available online at the general conference archives. The most current general conference talks are God's word to His people in these days and are comparable in value to ancient scripture.

I try to study a talk from the archives every day. Since the most recent session of conference this October, I have received counsel from those talks directly pertinent to the world's turmoils and my place in them. I have received great peace and reassurance. I have had cause again and again to praise God and thank Him for sending us living oracles.

I am sure that every message shared in that conference spoke directly to someone. However, I would like to share a few of the messages that spoke to me and that I found very pertinent to our time:
* To the family wondering how to respond to the world's financial crisis, Elder Perry recommends simplifying.
* To the people living in a climate of contention, Elder Eying calls for unity.
* To the youth encouraged to stand up for themselves and yet to be kind and tolerant, Elder Hales outlines what it means to have "Christian courage".
* To the church member dissenting to the Church's support of Proposition 8 (and perhaps those supporting it with wrongful prejudice), Elder Christofferson offers this call to Zion.
* To the doubters who struggle to reconcile a loving God with the uphill journey unfairly meted out to some of His children, Elder Corbridge reaffirms that Christ is The Way.
* To the child of God who is tried and afflicted, our compassionate and long-suffering Elder Wirthlin shares the advice of his mother: "come what may, and love it."
* To the citizen who cultivates an attitude of entitlement and is racing to acquire more and more worldy goods, our beloved prophet, President Monson, cautions us to live with gratitude.

Each of these messages was a lovingly crafted "tender mercy" of the Lord to me. Each bolstered my testimony when the winds and rains of a sometimes cruel world attempted to shake me from the Rock of my Redeemer.

I invite all of you, members of the Mormon church or not, to read these inspired messages and take heart in troubling times. Which counsel, in its timely arrival, was a tender mercy in your life?

Home

2008-10-25T20:21:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, Scott and I went to a devotional for temple workers in the Salt Lake temple assembly hall. It was a very special experience: we met in a holy place with white-clad saints to hear the prophet of God bear testimony of the living Christ. The Holy Ghost was very strong in that sacred setting. Scott turned to me and gave me a squeeze. He said, "This is my idea of heaven." Then he amended, "Except the boy's not here."

Later that evening, the three of us sat together on the couch in our living room. Scott and I were discussing the lessons that had been taught in Sunday School and Relief Society. As we quietly and simply bore testimony to each other of the beautiful gospel truths we had been reminded of that day, I felt that same spirit wash over me. In my mind, I heard again those words, This is my idea of heaven.

In thinking about that experience over the last week, I have come to realize the holiness of my home. Although it is not quite the temple, God's house on earth, it can be a place where His spirit resides permanently.

My home is a place that has been sanctified by study and prayer. It is a place of revelation. I have said more prayers here, in my home, than in any other place. I have received more answers here, both through study and through personal revelation. I have listened to uplifting music here. It is in this place that I have been converted to the Lord again and again.

My home is the starting point. It is the place in which I have been prepared to face, and even change, the world. It is the faithfulness and love that is cultivated in my home that I carry into the church, into the temple, and hopefully into the world.

I am grateful for this holy place.

Welfare Square

2008-10-21T07:11:00.000-07:00

My emotions have been very close to the surface this past week. So when I tell you I burst into tears yesterday pulling up to Deseret Industries, I hope you won't judge me.

Halloween is coming up and, as my friends know, I'm a sucker for costumes. I've been gathering all the necessary bits for our family's costumes way ahead of my usual schedule this year (aka not the night before!) but couldn't find one necessary piece. A friend told me there was a really great DI on the other side of the freeway and, with few options left, I decided to check it out.

I drove down 800 S, listening to the BBC and passing pens back to Soren, trying to keep him awake. I also looked for the big red and blue DI logo. That's why I almost missed the understated gray sign proclaiming the entrance to Welfare Square. An arrow for the Cannery, an arrow for Employment Services, an arrow for the Bishop's Storehouse, and then--ah!--this way to Deseret Industries. We took a sharp turn into the gated area.

It was the huge grain elevator that did me in. I'd never seen it before but the logo on the side was instantly recognizable as a symbol of provident living and the joy that comes as we help people help themselves. President Monson said that if we visit Welfare Sqaure, "your eyes will glow a little brighter, your heart will beat a little faster, and life itself will acquire a new depth of meaning." I felt that. It was because I caught a glimpse of the efficiency, compassion, and wisdom of God's plan for His saints. That place is a little piece of Zion.

Although we may not practice the law of consecration as the United Order did during the early years of the church, current-day members (and endowed members doubly) have made a covenant to care for the poor and the needy. The demands of this covenant are partially fulfilled when we pay tithing and fast offerings. And with those funds, through the Welfare Plan, God can ensure that the temporal needs of all His saints are met.

In working as a Relief Society president and at Step Beyond, I experienced a little bit of what the Welfare Plan is all about. To those who join with us, we as a people can offer relief from poverty. At the bishop's storehouse, we feed the hungry. At the employment center and the DI, we put people to work as well as educate them. At the cannery, we prepare for the future. With the perpetual education fund, we lift generations out of ignorance. In the bishop's office, saints receive the funds necessary to clothe and shelter their families in times of financial hardship.

I submit to you that the laws of tithing and fasting are the modern-day law of consecration--and they work! This comprehensive plan for the provident living of all church members is a tender mercy of the Lord.

Enlightenment

2008-10-20T09:35:00.000-07:00

Christ has opened my eyes and offered me spiritual rebirth. Now, not completely but more than ever before, I understand God's plan of happiness and the wisdom and love with which He guides His children.

And, after months of frustration, I have realized that this cannot be taught. I cannot give you the path my spirit took to arrive at a glorious truth. I can only urge you to open your heart to the Holy Ghost, "for by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things."

I know that Jesus Christ is the Only Begotten Son of God, the Creator and Savior of the world.

I know that He was the greatest teacher and exemplar there ever was. He bade us follow Him and I know that although that path may seem at times to be fraught with trials and sorrow, that His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

I know that He healed the sick and raised the dead during His mortal ministry. I know that He can heal and revitalize souls sickened or deadened by sin.

I know that His sacrifice in Gethsemane and on Golgotha prepared the way for us to return in glory to our Father in Heaven. He is the only way, the only name through which we can be saved.

I know that He lives and that He loves us.

And while I struggle with temptation, with pain, and with inequality, I know that through Him I shall obtain eternal life. I know in whom I have trusted.

These things cannot be taught. But I have obtained these truths--and countless more I cannot put into words!--through the Holy Ghost. That gift is one of God's greatest gifts to me. And every experience I have that invites me to learn line upon line from this spiritual teacher is a tender mercy from my loving Father in Heaven.

Yes to Proposition 8

2008-10-18T16:47:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about the difference between opinions and truth lately.

The Bible says, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8-9). And I, for one, am so grateful. I'm glad the God I trust is smarter than us all.

I can plan and theorize and formulate and wonder. In fact, God wants me to do that. But I must be willing to give those ideas up when God speaks to me, even if I don't understand His plan. He has all knowledge and wisdom and power. And His plan is always better.

Sometimes, God wants me to study things out in my mind and come to a conclusion through logic and reason. But more often than He speaks to my mind, He speaks to my spirit. He wants me to accept a spiritual confirmation and exercise my faith. He is asking me to offer obedience to a plan that might fly in the face of contemporary thought. And when I receive that spiritual confirmation, I can proceed with confidence, even in the face of great opposition.

Today we have a prophet who speaks for God. His name is Thomas S. Monson and through him, our all-wise and all-loving Heavenly Father disseminates essential knowledge and counsel particular to our time and circumstances. When President Monson speaks, we do not have to wonder which course of action is best. We should pray for confirmation and then accept on faith that God's plan is always better. When my Father commands, I will give up whatever half-formed notions I've constructed and obey Him. "For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God" (1Corinthians 3:19).

And so it is because of the spiritual confirmation I have received, more than anything I've reasoned out, that I support Proposition 8.

I feel a great deal of anguish for those people who will be left with sorrow, confusion, and doubt if this amendment is passed. Still, I think it is important and will do a great deal of good. This must be what Nephi felt like, commanded to slay Laban, knowing it was the right thing to do, but struggling with the ramifications. Or perhaps what the Israelites felt like, commanded to look at the serpent of brass and live yet wondering why their prophet Moses would suggest something that was so similar to idolatry. It was right because God commanded it and sometimes that needs to be good enough.

I, along with God's prophet, urge anyone with the vote in California (and Florida and Arizona) to define marriage as the union of one man and one woman. If you can't vote on this issue in your state, you can still talk to friends and family who will, donate to the initiative here, or speak up on the internet. If you are grateful to live in an age where God speaks to man again, don't disregard His counsel! It comes from someone smarter than us all.

And if you can't accept my testimony and spiritual knowledge as a sound enough support, click here for an excellent and reasonable defense of the issue.

Linguistic Anomalies

2008-10-14T14:36:00.001-07:00

My husband is a linguist and so I knew I he would be dorky about our first child's language acquisition. I knew that when our son stopped squawking and started babbling, my husband would take a great deal more interest in him. I expected that.

So when Scott started talking about the unusual phonemes our son was acquiring, I figured it was just lingo-babble and fatherly pride. I didn't really understand what was peculiar about Soren's aggregate of sounds and so I guess I thought Scott was just exaggerating. Kind of the scholarly equivalent of me propping Soren up against a table and then snapping pictures of him "standing" at 6 or 7 months. That Soren would be standing then seemed as unlikely to me as him aquiring difficult and non-native sounds before typical baby babble. I mean, it was just a bizarre hubris to think our baby would defy the bell curve, right? And average was more than good enough for me.

Then another linguist friend came to visit our family on Sunday. She and Scott huddled together around Soren and began talking in a language of linguistic scholarship, unintelligible to me. What I gathered out of the conversation was that they were talking about Soren and that it was generally agreed that he was making some unusual sounds. Scott was beaming.

Yesterday I had a thought. I thought that maybe Soren's unusual babble was a gift from our Father, a tender mercy. It's such a small, seemingly unimportant thing. But I believe God is involved in the minutia of our lives. If there was going to be a baby like Soren (and face it, statistics do say there should be at least one), then why would he not send the little tike to a father that would thoroughly appreciate it? Yes, his phonetic inventory is going to realign to normal before he starts talking. No, it's not an earth-shaking miracle or life-altering blessing. But it's a beautiful detail that brings more joy to our home right now. And I believe it's a tender mercy from a loving and involved Father in heaven.

First Snow

2008-10-12T20:14:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning and wandered, bleary-eyed, into Soren's room. The window blinds were open and morning was streaming into the nursery. Cold, white morning. I don't think there is a more magical day of the year than the first morning you wake up to snow.

***

Yesterday Scott and I were walking to the library when it started to rain/slush. I couldn't really suppress a little hop-skip-and-squeal; for some reason it felt marvelous to turn my face up into the falling slurry. I pulled Soren's wrap up over his head and he fell asleep while we walked, getting wetter and wetter. It was absolutely wonderful. I said to Scott, "I love weather." I loved walking, all bundled up in hand-knit items, and feeling how different it was from walking in the heat only a few months ago. The newness of it made it feel like a special gift, falling on my head straight from heaven.

Then we passed a panhandler standing head down in a wet sweatshirt, cold and with no place to go. Here I was, enjoying a jaunt out in the invigoratingly chilly air while he was enduring it, hoping it would stop. I'm sure there's a lesson in this. Compassion, empathy. I was grateful for the sudden slush shower because I had a warm apartment to go back to. Or a library to hurry on to. He didn't have either of those things; surely the cold rain was no blessing to him. Still, I'd felt the love of God in that bitter sweet condensation.

The library was full of hobos. I was glad. Perhaps it wasn't so callous of me to be grateful for the fluctuating weather. Because of the great economy of my Father, I could feel His love in chilly, melted fingerprints on my face even as they could feel His love while sinking into a warm, public armchair.

Things I was grateful for on this walk: changing weather, my comfortable apartment, a lesson in compassion, and the public library.

Help for My Sister

2008-10-09T09:33:00.000-07:00

Calling all conscientious eaters: my 13-yr-old sister is thinking about becoming vegetarian (because of a fantasy book she read, of all things). She is looking for advice on whether or not this course of action is for her and how she should broach the subject with our mom, who makes meat and potatoes for every meal. Please follow this link to her post and offer her your opinions, advice, experiences, and recipes. Although I have given her my input, based on my knowledge of her and our family, I know that I have a lot of friends who have struggled with this issue before. Even if you are not vegetarian and have never considered becoming vegetarian, could you share with her how you balance your diet, how you interpret the counsel to "eat meat sparingly", or of a time you might have made a lifestyle change that affected those you love? It would mean a lot to me if you could lend her a hand.

Boy, I'm grateful for an internet community that can help with these kinds of things.

50 Tender Mercies

2008-10-08T17:42:00.000-07:00

I felt the love of the Lord today:

1. when I woke up this morning and realized that Scott, Soren, and I had all enjoyed a full, uninterrupted night of sleep.
2. when I pulled on a hand-knit sweater.
3. when we had the time and foresight to pray together before walking to the train stop.
4. when we chatted with Phyllis, the crossing guard.
5. when there were enough seats at the train stop for all of us.
6. when a woman getting off the train gave me a piece of good advice.
7. when I had a stroke of genius and ensured that Soren will never be hatless on a morning walk again.
8. when a bird's feather fell right in front of my path.
9. when Soren was happy to eat taco soup for breakfast, since we have a ton and no one else wants it.
10. when I read the paper and was grateful for our democratic government, flawed as it is.
11. when I listened to the first disk of Handel's "Messiah".
12. when I thought about the perfect government Christ will set up at his second coming, when we will be ruled by he who is called Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace!
13. when Soren curled up next to me and laid his head on my chest, if only for a moment.
14. when I bit into a crisp autumn apple.
15. when I remembered other apples and harvesting the bounty of the earth from our yard at Step Beyond.
16. when I was able to get ahold of Aaron Fernuik and cancel our harp lesson to take care of my feverish son.
17. when I stopped to feel it.
18. when I spent a little bit of time cleaning, then stepped back and look at the difference I had made and thought of President Uchtdorf's talk on the divinity of creation.
19. when I explained the geometry of a soccer ball to Soren and he seemed to listen the whole time.
20. when I used the miracle that is Vick's Vapor Rub!
21. when I felt the energizing power of the Spirit, sustaining me as I was trying to sustain my baby boy.
22. when I opened the window blinds and let in the sunlight.
23. when I thought about how God wants me to nourish my body, then actually sat down and ate lunch.
24. when Alisha Stamper came to visit.
25. when Wallace Stamper smiled at me (truly a rare gift).
26. when I used the internet to read up on my extended family.
27. when Soren and I danced to "Here Come the ABCs" and he laughed (if a little wetly).
28. when Jill Fetzer called and gave me an opportunity to magnify my calling.
29. when I curled up on the couch in my comfortable apartment and read unstoppably through my chance to nap.
30. when April Clauson brought me some fresh basil and mint from her garden, as well as an example of service and friendship.
31. when Soren woke up from his afternoon nap, contently babbling.
32. when I listened to Henry B. Eyring--again.
33. when I put down my book and watched Soren play with a Baby Ruth wrapper.
34. when I saw the motto for Attachment Parenting Month, "Giving Our Children Presence".
35. when I commented on your blogs.
36. when I looked at pictures of my family.
37. when Soren looked up at me and smiled.
38. when Scott came home from work and said he'd had plenty to do and felt more like a linguist than a bureaucrat.
39. when Scott had his new work shirts and I remembered what a blessing his job is.
40. when I realized we had so much good leftovers I wouldn't have to cook!
41. when I made a very tasty pesto anyways with lots of basil and lots of flavor.
42. when all three of us sprawled out on the floor to play.
43. when it kind-of looked like Soren was combing Scott's hair.
44. when Scott and I watched Soren play in the bath tub.
45. when Soren and I went on a babywearing walk in the cool evening air.
46. when I saw Earl Gilmore at the church building and saw him smile, in spite of everything.
47. when I walked into my warm house and put on my warm robe.
48. when Soren fell asleep and peace descended on him and our home.
49. when Scott came home from a church meeting and held me close.
50. when I wrote this list.

Can I start a tag? How have you felt the love of the Lord today?

Divine Maternity

2008-10-07T19:49:00.000-07:00

Every mom is different and so is every child. There is no one right way to parent.

I learned something very valuable in General Conference this weekend. I learned that we have more in common as mothers in Zion than we have differences. All the important things we have in common. I've been secretly bitter and antagonistic towards other moms who, in their zeal and love for their babies, left me feeling inadequate and then, as a defense mechanism, spiteful and self-righteous. But I was wrong and if I have offended you, I'm sorry.

President Eyring talked about the need for unity in the church and, although he wasn't talking about our need to come together as mothers and women, that's what I heard. That's what I needed to hear. A great day of unity is coming and I want to be a part of it. If that is to be, I knew I needed to give up my pride. Eyring said that we focus too much on our differences. We exaggerate them, trying to seperate ourselves from eachother, trying to be better than each other. He was talking about me. He admonished me, reminded me that our differences are insignificant when compared to the similar heritage we share. Those differences are shades of divinity. They are not polar opposites but slight shifts in focus.

We are all daughters of God and our divine spirits all yearn to become like our Heavenly Parents. Whenever we feel strongly about something, it is because we can sense that it is an echo of our God's love. Whenever another mother feels strongly about the way the she parents, it is because she knows something about the character of God.

And now I see the character of God in those mothers around me. They are amazing; they inspire me even when I choose to do something different. Because our differing styles are similar in love.

I chose to bear my son, Soren, in a hospital with pain medication and his birth was wondrous and absolutely perfect. So was the birth of Margaret, whose mother labored for days in her very own home and triumphed over fear and pain without the assistance of drugs or medical personel. We both experienced the spiritual and empowering gift of childbirth. But I respect so much those mothers who have to give up their plans of vaginal birth and offer the escape hatch to emerging life. Mothers who end up choosing cesarean are a great example to me of both physical and emotional sacrifice on behalf of their infant.

I chose to breastfeed Soren for the first 9 months and I cherished that physical representation of the link between us. I am amazed by this mother who, at great personal sacrifice, continues to nurse to the great benefit of her toddler. I am also amazed by this mother who, in the face of great (dare I say?) persecution, bottle-feeds her baby with love, tenderness, and humility that in no way diminishes the mother-child bond. We are all nourishing our babies with emotional and physical sustenance.

I chose a crib for my son, and his very own room. I chose early sleep training; Soren and I both needed it. But I have learned that mothering is a 24-hour job from a good friend who sleeps with her baby and feeds him several times in the night. In spite of all my nights of good sleep, sometimes she has more energy and optimism during the day than even I can muster up. We both guide our sons with love, making sure they are well rested.

I chose to implement a 1/2 hour long "room time" each day for my son when he plays alone in his room and I tidy up. But I am inspired by Paula from my ward, who carries her daughter Penelope in a sling while she does housework! I can see how happy it makes Penny to stay close to her mother and it reminds me that all children need special time with their parents.

I chose not to babyproof my house, at least not most things. I am *trying* to teach Soren self control by imposing boundaries on him and sometimes it seems like he gets it. But I love to see moms who have made their homes a safe haven for their child, a place to explore and enjoy. And I don't think these values are mutually exclusive! I am never surprised to meet children who are both creative and obedient, self-managing and confident.

I chose to feed my baby on a schedule, which (when implemented at 3 months) improved his temperament (and mine) drastically. But I understand and value the lesson of trust and tenderness given with milk by mothers who feed on demand like my favorite mom blogger. But in spite of the fact that I no longer feed for comfort, Soren has learned to trust me. He knows that I will meet his needs and show him a way to be happy and comfortable. Any mother can share that bond of trust with their child, no matter their feeding philosophy. We will all rush to their aid and respond according to the spirit when our sons and daughters call out to us.

I chose cloth diapers mostly because I am so cheap. But I don't think that what we put on our child's butt is any good indicator of our quality as a mother. I am blown away by TopHat, who is learning to identify her baby's elimination signs and teaching her 6-month-old to use a mini-potty. I am impressed by Liz, who makes her own wipes! But the contemporary mother who has most inspired me is April, who uses disposable diapers and, as a consequence, has one less worry getting in the way of having fun with Sequoia. Diapers do not make the mom.

To all mothers earnestly loving and raising a valiant generation, I honor you. Especially those of you who feel inadequate. Our children need us to be their mothers, not a philosophy and definitely not another. I know that every baby needs his or her unique mother and that each mother can have the Holy Ghost with her to give individual tailored help. And that all of us, even when we choose "opposites" can be love incarnate to our family. I grateful for this lesson and so sorry that it took me so long to get it.

The Lord's Organization for Women

2008-10-02T09:10:00.000-07:00

Everyday I am reminded that life isn't fair. The world is full of injustice and suffering. There are people everywhere struggling with physical, emotional, financial, and spiritual losses. There are children growing up hungry for the love and leadership of a stable parental unit. There are teenagers struggling to find meaning and identity in all the wrong places. There are women who do not understand their infinite worth. There are men floundering without the confidence that comes from gospel truths. There are children of God who are sick, neglected, lonely, undernourished, oppressed, heartbroken, confused, and dying. In these last days before the Lord's second coming, our fallen world seems to weigh even more heavily on the weary shoulders of humanity.

It is not hard to see that this is a time that calls for courage and sacrifice. We are surrounded by extraordinary occasions and pressing calls. We should not be idle when there is so much to be done, so many wrongs to be righted. But sometimes I wonder where I can put my effort so that it will not be wasted. Which charity or group or volunteer work should I be involved in? There are so many and I cannot do them all. There are many good things to do but which is the best? And will my widow's mite of service even make a dent in the injustices of mankind? Perhaps I should just cling tight to me and my own and hope that the plagues of this era pass over our door.

In this time of suffering and climate of perceived helplessness, the Lord has organized the women of His church. He has formed the Relief Society to perform His miracles, spreading relief, knowledge, and joy as the Savior did during His early ministry. He has laid down a plan in the compassionate service, visiting teaching, education, and enrichment arms of this organization that can, if we catch hold of the vision, alleviate suffering. And He has promised us that charity never faileth.

"We need not rush about trying to find things to do or causes to take up," Barbara Thompson said in last Saturday's General Relief Society broadcast. "Remember, most often the help needed is in our own homes, neighborhoods, and communities. A kind word of encouragement, a note of thanks, a phone call, a loving smile, a helpful deed, and a reminder that God loves us is often what is needed most." Those things seem like only a drop in the bucket and yet that is the Lord's plan for His children. Drop by drop we will become a cascading torrent, filling the earth with God's tender mercies.

And when I wonder if I am doing enough, when I am frustrated that I cannot fix the entire world, when I want to be do something grand and heroic, I must exercise faith in God's plan. Relief Society is His organization for the women of the world. I know it is effective and important because it is His plan. I will no longer doubt the power of Relief Society. I will no longer scorn the impact of visiting teaching. I will not deny the power of a thought-provoking lesson or activity to soften hearts and invite the Spirit. I will no longer stay my hand when I am called upon to serve in little ways. For "by small and simple things are great things brought to pass."

The Woman I Become

2008-09-25T15:54:00.000-07:00

I believe that the people that you love most have the power to change the person that you are.

Falling in love with Scott forever changed the woman that I am. I look back with fondness on the girl I was. She is someone I was always happy to be. But I'm different now. And although as I was content before, I became even more so afterwards. I became more open and trusting. I felt more stable and peaceful. I think I gained wisdom. I don't think you can love and not be wiser.

Loving Soren has irrevocably changed me too, as I hope every child I have will. Sometimes I feel as though I have borrowed his driving need for self-discovery and his refreshing lack of inhibitions. Sometimes, when I look in his sleepy eyes, I feel as though I have regained a lost innocence. And, again, I believe I am wiser now.

This is how it happens: I'm sitting on the couch reading a book or a blog. I am encompassed by my own affairs and my own interests; I am an island and happy to stay that way. Soren is balanced by the coffee table, excited to touch and move everything. He is babbling in a way that seems absent-minded. Look up. Behold your little one. I look up from my task, from myself, and see him. He is the flesh of my flesh. He is my son. He is innocent and full of potential. And, feeling my eyes on him, he turns to smile at me. He knows so little and yet mine is the face that makes him smile. My little perfect boy, and he loves me. Elder Russel M. Ballard has said that mothers must realize that "the joy of motherhood comes in moments". Often, this is one of those moments. It is a shining yet ephemeral piece of sacred time. I look up from myself. I love him and I become a new person. A mother, the realization of my potential.

Then, suddenly, the glow has faded. But the change remains. Love has the power to change us, to make us become more like He who loves us.

An All-Encompassing Commandment

2008-09-24T09:02:00.000-07:00

I've lately come to realize how important it is to study God's word. I have often listened in church meetings or in conferences and been discouraged by the sheer weight of God's commandments. I have thrown up my proverbial hands in despair and felt unable to make the tremendous life changes God asks.

Recently, however, I have come to understand that those changes are made in increments and that they are made naturally as we study the word of God and sincerely pray to know His will. I now know that if I read my scriptures and pray daily, every other commandment will fall naturally into place (eventually). If we can keep those lines of communication open between us and the heavens, then we will have access to God's help. We will have the Holy Ghost with us and He will tell us all things that we should do. He will change things about us that we never thought we could overcome. So much of what God wants from us is an attitude adjustment. Searching, pondering, and praying will soften our hearts and yield the necessary results.

As long as I pray sincerely and ponder God's word in the many ways it has been revealed to me, I do not have to worry about my Heavenly Father's judgment. As long as I do not willfully reject the teachings I receive, the Holy Ghost will make sure that my heart will be in the right place. I believe this is how the prophets of old could be so confident that they would meet us at the final judgment, standing on the right hand of God. It was not pride or knowledge that they had done everything right. It was a recognition of the power of the Atonement and a knowledge that they had the Holy Ghost with them, sanctifying them. They knew that their earnest desire would enable Jesus Christ, through His infinite and all-powerful Atonement, to do the rest.

I have the whole pie (and so can you!)

2008-09-22T11:36:00.001-07:00

I was appreciating the church's new website (mormon.org) this morning. I love all the videos connected to the site; I'm very much an aural learner. One of my favorite videos was about how The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has all the truth, not just some of it. And those who are baptised into this church have access to all of God's greatest gifts, not just some of them. The man speaking compared truth to a pie and he said that, after hearing the missionaries, he wanted the whole pie, not just a sliver of it.

Following the deaths of Christ's apostles and due to disobedience and loss of authority, a great deal of spiritual truth was lost. The beauty and wisdom of God's plan was obscured from man and His power was no longer on the earth. Those lost truths were restored through a modern prophet, Joseph Smith, and even now the veil between heaven and earth is peirced by continuing revelation via God's chosen mouthpeice today, Thomas S. Monson. This is a most glorious time to live! Now is the time that all of God's blessings are available to all of His children, according to their agency. Now is the time that, if you choose, you can have the whole pie!

I am grateful for many these restored and reiterated truths. They bring purpose and joy to my life. What more could I ask for? Simply stated, that these same truths might be available to everyone. I want everyone to know...
... that we have a Father in Heaven who knows and loves each of His children. He is all wise and all loving; if we follow His plan, we will be lead to eternal life and everlasting joy.
... that God's Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, performed an infinite Atonement and has the power to redeem and to change us. If we desire it, He will remake us in His image. In this suffering and fallen world, it is a comfort to know that He will return and make everything right.
... that the same Jesus which was crucified for our sins, was literally resurrected and that He lives. And so shall we someday be resurrected, reunited with our bodies and with those we love.
... that families are integral to God's plan. That in order to receive our inheritance as children of God, a man and a woman must be sealed together in God's holy temple and there become an eternal unit.
... that God speaks to each of His children through two channels. We can receive personal revelation through the power of the Holy Ghost and we can receive the unalterable commands and truths of our Father's plan through His prophet and the Holy Scriptures.
... that man is that he might have joy.

An Award

2008-09-19T09:19:00.002-07:00

Heather Farley (aka TopHat) passed along to me the "You Make My Day" award--and that made my day! It's always comforting to know that I'm not just yammering to myself here, and even better to know that someone else appreciates what I have to say!

RULES about this little award:
(1) give this to people whose blogs mean something special to you - or give it to the blogs whose persons mean something special to you
(2) leave a comment on their blog so they know they got it
(3) you get to pick the number of times you give it

I would like to pass this award on to:
* Jennie Yri, whose writing blog is my favorite and whose blog about politics routes out the cynic in me;
* Audrey Duede, my hillarious mother-in-law who writes about adventures in knitting and keeps me updated on the status of my husband's childhood pets;
* Alisha Stamper, a stay-at-home photographer who takes glorious pictures of things moms see everyday;
* and Russel Stevenson, who helps me stay abreast of issues in the news and challenges (and strengthens) the way I think about my faith.

I am grateful that I can stay in touch with my friends and family as well as be stimulated by their experiences and ideas. Reading your blogs keeps me thinking.

The Power of Prayer

2008-09-17T08:32:00.001-07:00

I am grateful for the supernal gift of prayer. This blessing and commandment is truly a tender mercy of the Lord to me. Through prayer, I come to know the will of my Father in Heaven and I access the power of the Atonement to experience greater conversion.

I have recently started adding an extra prayer to my day. In the middle of the day, when Soren is sleeping and Scott is gone, I kneel down and pray in complete privacy. I am able to pray out loud and to spend time pondering without any interruptions. This has become the foundation of my day. From that prayer, I try to decide what good I will do that day. I find motivation to study the scriptures with real intent. The Spirit I feel during that special prayer is something I yearn to keep throughout the day and that influences the ways in which I act. That prayer has great power. It always invites the Holy Ghost into my home and my heart. When I strive to keep that Spirit with me, I have power to make changes in my life.

I have found nothing to be more rewarding than praying, receiving insight into what I should do, and following that counsel. When I pray, the Holy Ghost whispers God's will to me and sometimes it is something I can do right away. That action brings great joy and confidence. Prayer is what allows me to be an able instrument in hands of God.

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane

2008-09-12T09:45:00.000-07:00

"An achingly beautiful story." -School Library Journal (starred review)

Four years ago I read Kate DiCamillo's The Tale of Despereaux, which won the Newberry Award for the greatest contribution to children's literature in the year of 2004. It was an enchanting fable and easily became one of my all-time favorite books. I never thought DiCamillo could write a more captivating story and, as a rule, I have not enjoyed her other books very much. So when I picked up The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, I was not expecting to become so entransed. I was certainly not expecting to be inspired, to feel my heart ripped from my body in sorrow and joy. It's a book about love in all its simplicity and pain and glory. I don't think I've ever read anything quite like it. "Achingly beautiful" is right. That's exactly what reading it felt like; I ached with the beauty of it.

Edward Tulane is a china rabbit loved and pampered by a girl named Abilene. On an ocean voyage he goes overboard and is lost. Thus begins his wandering at the hands of fate and a journey could teach him the importance of love.

It's a very simple story and a quick read. I made it through the whole book in less than an hour. And I would recommend it to anyone and everyone. Come and borrow it if you like but don't keep it for long. It's one I'll want to read again and again.

Aural Indulgence

2008-09-09T09:29:00.000-07:00

I am grateful for good music (and a nice sound system). I am grateful for great composers whose music inspires me and invites the Holy Ghost into my life. These are a few of my favorite recordings, in no particular order.

1. "The Messiah" by George Frederick Handel (as recorded by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir)
2. "Flute Concerto" by Christopher Rouse (as recorded by Carol Wincenc)
3. "Songs from the Trilogy" by Philip Glass (as recorded by the Phillip Glass Ensemble)
4. "Requiem and Magnificat" by John Rutter (as recorded by the Cambridge Singers)
5. "Kindertotenlieder" by Gustav Mahler (as recorded by Janet Baker)
6. "Crown of Ariadne" by R. Murray Schafer (as recorded by Judy Loman)
7. "Symphony No. 9 Aus Neuen Welt" by Antonin Dvorak (as recorded by the Berliner Philharmonic)
8. "Pines of Rome" by Ottorino Respighi (as recorded by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra)
9. "Appalacian Spring; Rodeo; Farfare to the Common Man" by Aaron Copland (as recorded by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra)

Feel free to add your own in the comments. I'm always looking for more good music.

In Defense of Cheerfulness

2008-09-08T08:46:00.001-07:00

Christ commanded us to "be of good cheer". Elder Holland postulates that this may be a commandment we break more than almost any other. He offers a maxim I find to be very true for me: "No misfortune is so bad that whining about it won't make it worse."

When I first heard those words, I thought they were quaint but made no effort to analyze how they could improve my life. There are negative things to face in life and I used to think that they could be improved by commiserating about them. Whenever something unfortunate happened in my life, I would immediately start brainstorming about who I could go complain to. If I could illicit a little sympathy, maybe I would feel better about myself. And when others came to tell me of their misfortunes, I thought to make them more comfortable by unburdening my own (or sometimes exaggerating them). When I worried about it, Scott told me that complaining is an inescapable fact of female communication. For awhile, this seemed an acceptable conclusion.

But I know that Elder Holland is a special witness of Christ, an apostle of God. I know that his words in general conference, and the words of the other prophets and apostles, are among the most pertinent words to me today. I had to ask myself, do I really believe that the prophet and the apostles speak for God? If so, then that particular counsel is from God to me. If so, then it is an immutable truth that no circumstance is improved by complaining. If so, I decided I must experiment upon those words.

I have found cheerfulness to be among God's most gentle commandments. In my life, I have found that there is no misfortune so bad that being cheerful won't make it better. Of course there are unfortunate circumstances that I must discuss with others to alleviate. But I am trying to think carefully before I lay my burdens at any feet but those of the Savior. Most of the time, I find there is no need to complain and great reason to rejoice, even in misfortunes. I believe that when we replace our negative communication with gratitude we invite the Holy Ghost to be with us. And He can comfort and uplift us.

As a Man Thinketh

2008-09-05T14:18:00.000-07:00

So I have been asked to teach Relief Society on Sunday and since it's the presidency message, they've given me free reign to talk about whatever I want to. WARNING: Anyone reading this from my ward, BEWARE! It contains spoilers!

I've decided to give my lesson on the importance of controlling our thoughts. This is a topic that gets a lot of attention in Priesthood meetings but is very rarely taught to women. I think this is because it is generally assumed that we have less problems with sexual transgressions. Be that as it may, I think that controlling our thoughts is about more than controlling physical desires. It is also about not being judgmental, maintaining a healthy optimism, and pondering spiritual things. It is about the state of our soul for "as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." I feel very strongly about this topic and I'm really excited to teach about it.

I have lots of things I want to draw from in a very short amount of time. The umph behind the message comes from Elder Packer's talk "Worthy Music, Worthy Thoughts" and (my all-time favorite) Elder Holland's talk "The Tongue of Angels". I am seriously considering beginning with a clip from Star Trek: The Next Generation in which the thoughts of the enterprise crew shape the reality around them. Does anyone think that would be blasphemous? It's very pertinent and the clip I would show is very short.

Mostly, I wanted to put up this post to see if anyone out there has ideas, stories, or pertinent talks they could share with me. Why do you think it is important to control our thoughts? And how do you accomplish it?

Temples and Covenants

2008-09-02T10:46:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, Scott and I had the opportunity to attend a sealing of a child to her parents in the Salt Lake City temple. It was very special to see a whole family there in the temple receiving the greatest blessings promised by God.

My Aunt Karen adopted a Cambodian baby a few months ago. The story of Kalea's adoption is a very special one and I know that Heavenly Father intended her to be a part of their family just as surely as He intended Soren to be a part of ours. But because Kalea was not naturally born to Karen and Mark Roylance, she was not born into their eternal family and she did not inherit the blessings granted to a daughter of a covenant union. So on Saturday, she was sealed into their family and became a rightful heir to the blessings of a child born in the covenant. She became a part of their eternal family unit. She is now linked forever to Karen, Mark, Tiffany, Ashley, Michael, and Matthew, as well as to the family of Christ.

At the conclusion of the short and beautiful ceremony, Scott turned to me and said, "She is so lucky." He was referring to Kalea who was born into very different circumstances but was now adopted into a family who could offer her a double portion of life's greatest blessings. She will partake of a very prosperous lifestyle and grow up with all her basic needs fulfilled and many of her wants met as well. She will have a mother and father (as well as doting siblings) who love her and are devoted to her success in life. But perhaps most importantly, she will have all the blessings of Father Abraham. She is now set on the path to eternal life. She will have the knowledge of righteousness and the priesthood power in her life to cement God's promises to her. Yes, when we thought of how different things could have been for Kalea, we agreed that she was very lucky.

But we also realized how fortunate we are as well. Through no actions of our own, we also have access to all those great blessings. It is only through the grace of God that we are blessed with temporal prosperity and spiritual knowledge. Sometimes I get a little prideful and I think of all the things I possess and all the correct choices I have made as though I had made my life this way. Instead, I must thank my Father in Heaven for His many tender mercies on my behalf.

Sickness and Health

2008-08-29T07:12:00.000-07:00

This past couple of weeks I've been pretty sick. First I had a horribly painful bacterial infection and then I got a really debilitating viral infection. I'm just started to regain complete functionality. Now, granted, this was a finite and blissfully short stint of illness. Still, it has made me enthusiastically grateful for my good health! However, that's not what I wanted to write about. I am also grateful for sickness. Not just because it provides a stark contrast for the rest of my life. I am grateful for the lessons it can teach and the beautiful experiences that can flow from it.

First, there is nothing that reminds me of my own mortality more than being sick. Nothing makes me more desperate to show and receive affection and service. And nothing inspires greater introspection. These past few days of limited physical labor have been an opportunity for spiritual labor. I'm not trying to melodramatic. I knew I wasn't going to die just then. But I did know in a way I hardly ever face that someday I will die. And no one knows when that time will come. We must use every precious breath given us to prepare to meet God. For when we die, we will be possessed of the same spirit that we give ourselves to in this life.

So there's nothing like being sick to get me up off my butt and working on the things that matter most to me. Every ounce of strength that is not directed towards getting well is spent on the things that really count. Although sick, it was vitally important to me that I show love to my son and my husband. And, while that was about all that I could do, now that I am better I feel revitalized to attack the projects I procrastinated about before. I know that if they are important to the Lord, He will provide a way for me to do them. It's my responsibility to get them done while I can.

In addition, that reminder of mortality and prick of fear that comes with sickness can, if we allow it, bring us to the Savior.

I also had the opportunity to receive two blessings during this period of time. I felt such an outpouring of my Heavenly Father's spirit at those times. Although I was experiencing frightening physical pain, I was basking in the peace and joy of my Savior's love. And the blessings were a confirmation of the revelations I had received for myself during that time. The Lord spoke to me through the laying on of hands but also through personal revelation by the Holy Ghost.

Out of the crucible of illness can come the resolve, peace, and knowledge necessary to finish our mortal probation with courage and kindness. It reminds me of something I think Jennie inferred once. When we are sick, we have an opportunity to be healed. And although that healing may not manifest itself in (only) physical ways, we can still reach through the veil to grasp hold of the greatest healing available to any person.

Rejected Petitions

2008-08-22T08:45:00.000-07:00

In sacrament meeting last week, someone made a comment about how you can tell how much the Lord loves you when you look back on the prayers that he has said, very gently, "no" to. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I've been thinking about the people in my life and the person that I am today and how grateful I am for the way the Lord has guided my life by saying "no" to things I really thought I wanted.

For example, I remember praying so long and so hard that I would get accepted at the Oberlin Conservatory so I could study harp with Yolanda Kondonassis. I knew that it would be a grueling musical education and would prepare me for almost anything I wanted to do in the competitive harp scene. I remember wanting so badly that degree. I wanted to be a fierce and independent, the paragon of dedication and technical prowess. How far that is from the life I'm living right now! And yet, how grateful I am for the change of plans!

I love being laid back about music. I love being a wife and a mother. I loved attending BYU and using my talents with the harp to help others tap into the Savior's love. Now, I love being a homemaker and sometimes music teacher. And, not to sound so corny, I love being married to Scott. I never would have found anyone remotely like him at Oberlin.

A Scenic Drive

2008-08-18T06:50:00.000-07:00

Have you ever experienced a sudden flash of awe, a burning in your heart? Almost like you were being touched by something much greater than yourself? Maybe it felt like an epiphany of the spirit? I felt that this weekend while driving up the canyon to a family reunion at Bear Lake. The mountains were solid pillars of majesty all around us and every once in a while we would catch a dazzling blue glimmer of the approaching lake. I felt a peace settle over me that I didn't even realize was missing.

Usually that is a feeling I experience when praying or when listening to edifying music. It feels like I'm being touched by the finger of God. I know that it is the Holy Ghost testifying of my Heavenly Father's love for me. I remember an old friend at Interlochen Arts Academy telling me that he knew there was a God because he could see his hand in the beauty and diversity of the natural world. Now I understand what he meant by that.

It's been a long time since I've driven out beyond the bustle and man-made aesthetic of tradition civilization. I'm grateful that I was able to go this weekend. And I'm grateful now to know that it's still out there. There's still a place I can go to where there is almost nothing interfering with the awe-inspiring simplicity of God's creation.

In Memory of Jonathan Berry

2008-08-14T07:17:00.000-07:00

Each life that touches our for good
Reflects thine own great mercy, Lord;
Thou sendest blessings from above
Thru words and deeds of those who love.

A friend reminded me today of another friend who disappeared about three years ago and is presumed dead. And so I've been thinking all day about Jonathan Berry and the short, sweet friendship we shared. I've been thinking about how he impacted my life and how grateful I am to my God for Christ-like friends.

When I first met Jon, I was struck by his big ears, ruddy complexion, and contagiously exuberant smile. He invited us to sit with him at lunch. He was a sincere and amusing conversationalist. He said he was going to play Frisbee and invited Jennie and I to come. Is it any wonder that I knew from that moment that we would be friends? He was leaving on a mission at the end of our first college semester and so if we were going to get to know each other, it was going to have to be fast.

Jennie, Jon, Jason, and I played card games together almost every night. Jon was the life of the party. He was hillarious to watch when we played spaz and was always good-natured and energetic.

Jon played the cello and was in my music history class with me. Most mornings we would walk to class together and he would tell me about the graduate level class he was taking in modern music. He was very intelligent and enthusiastic about learning. We studied for our music history tests together and he always had a thorough and thought-provoking grasp of the material.

Jon suffered from depression and there were times when I could tell he needed someone to listen and uplift him. When given the opportunity, I always listened but I never knew what to say. Sometimes we would just pray together. Most of the time, though, he tried to keep it to himself. He thought that his depression was a burden he should carry alone.

Jon was a crazy dancer. We went to Homecoming together and he was not afraid to move! He wasn't really very graceful but his joy in movement was obvious.

When I knew him, Jon lived life to its fullest. He always wanted to extract every last ounce of experience from every occasion. He wanted to learn as much as he could. He wanted to laugh as much as he could. He wanted to move as much as he could.

When he came home early from his mission, though, he was very changed. He had lost faith in the Savior during the trials of life. But it was only the Savior that had power to heal him!

It is still the Savior who has the power to heal him. It is the Savior that will cause him to rise again. It is the Savior who can judge with perfect mercy his actions and will, in the end, be able to embrace him and comfort him in the way we never could. God is so wise and kind! I am grateful for his plan, which is a plan of happiness for all his children. He has provided a way for everyone to find peace and eternal joy, no matter what struggles they may face in this life.

Legs

2008-08-12T07:55:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a walk to the train stop in the nippy morning air. It felt wonderful to stretch my legs. Soren and I walk Scott to the station every morning and I really enjoy that laid-back time I get to spend with my family.

I've been thinking a lot lately how grateful I am for my legs. I love being able to walk and run. I love to dance! I love the sense of accomplishment and enjoyment that comes from physical exertion. I love propelling myself through life. I saw a show last week where a guy had to have a leg amputated. I was suddenly very grateful for my two legs. Actually, I should be grateful that my entire body functions properly (for the most part). How wonderful!

Lessons Learned from Amish Friendship Bread

2008-08-11T08:45:00.005-07:00

Two weeks ago I received an Amish Friendship Bread starter from April, a great woman from my ward. I finally got to make the bread this past weekend and it was delicious. I'm so grateful that April gave me a start because I've always wanted to participate in this yummy baking pass-a-long tradition. Since making the bread, though, I've had the whole process on my mind. I've been thinking about why it might be important to preserve a tradition like this in our modern world.

Scott says that the Amish, not having preserved yeast colonies instantly available in supermarkets, use the friendship bread tradition to preserve their community's yeast. Someone in the community gets a yeast colony started with all the necessary ingredients as well as the required time and effort. Once there is a yeast colony thriving in their dough, however, they don't want to just bake it all. Then they would have to start the colony all over again! In order to preserve and share their effort, they pull a part of the dough out to make some starters, which they then disseminate throughout the community. Their friends and neighbors are then spared the trouble of having to build a yeast colony from the ground up. They now take on the responsibility of caring for the yeast and, when it becomes time for them to make bread, they will pass that blessing and responsibility on to someone else.

It's a wonderful tradition that is completely unnecessary in today's modern world. Yeast is very easy for us to come by and preserve. And when we use it to make Amish Friendship Bread, we are always putting more ingredients into the dough than we are getting out of it. When someone receives a starter, they should be well aware that they will be giving away three times as much baking stuff as they receive. When I came to the end of my cycle, I was grateful to have been a part of it but wasn't sure if anyone else would want to make the sacrifice that I had made. I thought maybe I should just turn all of the dough I had created from the starter into loaves of bread and give those away, instead of the starts. Wouldn't my neighbors rather have a loaf of Amish Friendship Bread right now than a start for it that would require ten days of waiting and a significant output of food on their part? It's not that I begrudged anyone the contribution I had made. I just doubted that anyone else would want to make the same contribution. In my eyes, the starter was a liability. Why should I pass it on?

So, as my modern mind was railing against this tradition, the starts sat fermenting on my kitchen counter. The yeast colonies grew. And they weren't going to be put to good use any time soon. Until my husband told me that passing on the dough was not about serving other people. He said that it was about giving other people an opportunity to serve. It was about developing closeness and interdependence in our community. It's not a problem that I'm passing along a bread recipe that will require more foodstuff than it will create. That's the whole point. How dare I assume that my friends and neighbors would not appreciate the chance to care for our communal yeast colony! How dare I assume that they would begrudge their friends and neighbors a few cups of sugar and milk!

I passed them along. I hope they come back to you. I hope you get to be a part of a community greater than you. I hope you get the chance to serve. If not, you can get things started in your area.

The Priesthood is Restored

2008-08-10T07:59:00.000-07:00

I testify that the power of God is on the earth today. The power through which this universe was created, the power Christ used to heal the sick and feed the multitude, and the power that gives authority to perform ordinances in God's name is available to us. This divine authority given to men is called the priesthood and it has been restored in these latter-days. I am grateful that God's true church is on the earth and with it, His power. The priesthood's capacity is limitless but it can also be very intimate. With it, righteous men of Zion can bless their homes and families. When they have been ordained by men holding the proper authority, worthy men of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints can lay their hands upon the heads of the sick, the troubled, the seeking, and the called to pour out God's blessings on them.

I am grateful that my husband has the priesthood and uses it worthily and often. I had reason to call upon that power this weekend. I remember a friend once telling me that sometimes the Lord will gives us a reason to need a priesthood blessing specifically so that he can bless and counsel us. This was one of those occasions for me. I received a blessing of healing but it was also a blessing of strength and comfort that I was not expecting. I felt the Spirit very strongly as peace and love filled my heart. The blessing opened a conduit to heaven and I received the rejuvenating and uplifting gifts of the Spirit. I am grateful for God's great love and the wisdom of His plan. He allows me to feel His love and receive His blessings at the hands of my dear spouse.

Blogging

2008-08-08T07:39:00.000-07:00

So, some of you might be wondering why I've suddenly come online in full force. Firstly, it's because web pages can be so pretty and the temptation to design my own was too great to resist. But there are other (more legitimate) reasons. They make me very grateful for this wonderful communications network we have online.

1. I really feel that the more people you get to know and the more people you can reach out to, the more you can learn to love. That's really what this life is all about. As we try to be more like the Savior, we must understand that it is only when we love as He did that we will receive His image in our countenances. There are many opportunities God gives us to learn charity. I have caught a little glimmer of it in my family. My husband, Scott, and my son, Soren, have taught me how to love with a much greater depth of feeling. But if I want to be like the Savior, I must love all mankind. And it would be terribly hard for me to do that cooped up here in my own little apartment all day. So I am grateful for the instant access to the outside world that the internet provides! There are so many people we can come to know and feel empathy for and even encourage and serve on the internet. Of course I think face-to-face communication is superior. But we can supplement our limited capacity for one-on-one time with this near-unlimited capacity to reach everyone who is interested. The many tools online (blogging, email, facebook, news feed, chatting, etc) are equally valid forms of communication that can help us reach each other. Of course we shouldn't "hang out" online all day. Of course there are physically present friends, tasks, and services we must attend to. I'm just saying that the internet is another way to reach out and if we're creative, we can use it to serve and learn greater charity. So, for this reason, I am grateful for the internet.

2. I've been thinking a lot about positive communication and it's kind-of my new cause. I've been listening daily to Jeffrey R. Holland's talk "The Tongue of Angels" and this phrase is always bouncing around in my head now: "No misfortune is so bad that whining about it won't make it worse." I am sure that the reverse is true. No circumstance is so good that being grateful won't make it better. And also, no misfortune is so bad that being grateful won't make that better, too. In fact, I am sure that being grateful makes everything better. This blog has helped me be a more grateful. Writing about the ways that God has blessed me has replaced griping about my petty woes. And if I had a soapbox to get up on and share something important with the world, I would tell everyone to be grateful! Remember the marvelous things that your Father in Heaven has done for you! This blog is half inspired by Jennie Weinheimer and her gratitude journal. It is also half inspired by Heather Farley and her gutsy blog promoting breastfeeding and attachment parenting. (I don't agree with everything she says but I think it's super that she is rallying and strengthening mothers.) Online, we can contribute to a worldwide conversation. I want my contribution to be a positive one and I'm not embarrassed to say that I hope to influence others to do the same.

So, in summary, I am grateful to be online because here I can come to know and, hopefully, love other people. I am also grateful to be online because my voice can be heard and I want to share a message about gratitude and remembrance.

Blessed are the Pure in Heart

2008-08-07T07:26:00.000-07:00

So my parents are in town, which is wonderful. I know Scott is a little tired of having company (heck, so am I!) but he's being a real good sport about it and it's nice to spend time with my parents.

We took them to see Prince Caspian last night. Yes, I went again. It was just that good. It was better the second time. There were a lot of things I missed. (Although when I told Scott about them, he was all, "yeah. yep. I know, pretty cool, huh?" So apparently, he gets everything the first time around and I'm just slow. He says it's because he's read a lot of war stories.) It's just a very thought-provoking movie and all of the thoughts it provokes are good ones. I like that.

I was thinking a lot about Lucy while I was watching it. Of course Edmund is my favorite character. We all love a redeemed protagonist. We love to believe in our capacity for life-altering change--and I do believe that Christ can make that change happen for us! But I was really struck by the simple and unwavering faithfulness of Lucy. My sister says she probably represents children. On a more analytical level, I'm pretty sure she represents John the Beloved. But I also think she represents the person we should all be, the person King Benjamin was talking about when he told us to put off the natural man and become as a little child. Lucy was pure in heart and because of it, her experiences with Aslan were very personal and beautiful. What struck me is how richly she was rewarded for her faithfulness. All of her siblings were kings and queens of Narnia and Aslan loved them all. But Lucy had peace and joy and direction even in the most turbulent times because of her faith.

It can be the same for us. I know that Jesus Christ loves us all and wants to save us all. He is very powerful and great. His Atonement will redeem many of God's children and welcome them into His presence. But His Spirit can be with us on a day to day basis if we are pure in heart today. If we seek Him out and make time to feel His peace, we will be richly blessed with it. Lucy was always looking for Aslan. She always knew she couldn't do it alone. We must always look to the Savior. We cannot do it alone. I shouldn't wait for trouble to come unto the Savior. This whole line of thought reminds me of Jacob's sermon to the Nephites. He was calling them to repentance, but he knew that there were some in the congregation who had been faithful and didn't need that clarion call. To them he promised: "Behold, I Jacob would speak unto you that are pure in heart. Look unto God with firmness of mind, and pray unto him with exceeding faith, and he will console you in your afflictions, and he will plead your cause, and send down justice upon those who seek your destruction. O all ye that are pure in heart, lift up your heads and receive the pleasing word of God, and feast upon His love; for ye may, if your minds are firm, forever."

Sleep, Glorious Sleep

2008-08-05T08:47:00.001-07:00

Last night Soren woke up over and over and over again, screaming with intense and inexplicable rage. After the third time, I just dragged my stuff into his room and fell asleep on the floor with him hooked up to the breast. I haven't done that since week one but I just had no idea what to do! Usually he's a very good sleeper (something we trained him to be).

So right now, I'm exhausted. And I can't help but remember that it used to be like this day after day in the beginning. Groggy one day turned into sleepy the next which turned to exhaustion, then dead on my feet by the end of the week. I remember being dead on my feet for weeks at a time. I'm very grateful that part of my life is over, for now. I'm grateful that a sleepless night is unusual and eventually I will be able to sleep with carefree abandon once more.

Rest is wonderful. God rested on the seventh day. He promises that those who come unto Him will find rest. He commands us to rest on the Sabbath. I know that a lot of God's plan is about work, the kind of work that is fulfilling and brings happiness. But I am very very grateful that His plan also includes rest.

Good Media

2008-08-01T07:34:00.001-07:00

Today I am very grateful for movies. They are a powerful medium for conveying any idea and when they are used to share good messages, they can facilitate a powerfully uplifting experience for the viewer. I had a professor at BYU tell me once that heaven would have a great library where we would all read the classics and listen to opera. I think it is terribly arrogant to assume that just because electronic media is more popular that it has no redeeming qualities. If we will be reading good books in heaven, I think we will also be watching good television. I do believe that it is a technological advance given by God to help spread the good news of Jesus Christ and the plan of happiness. They can also just be fun, which is (of course) another gift from God.

Last night I went to see "Prince Caspian", which is why I am thinking about this. It's a film about being Christian in a fallen world. The message is that when you stand with Christ, you are never alone. And it's a perfect example of something that is both entertaining and uplifting; I highly recommend it. I think that this movie, along with all the other positive films out there, is one of God's tender mercies to His children. It is an easy way to access a one of the gospel's precious truths.

So if you're discouraged by all the smutty films out there, I don't think the solution is to give up on the entire genre. We need to support the truthful and family-friendly media out there. Let's let true principles flood the big screens and take over this powerful tool of persuasion!

Bodies

2008-07-30T15:54:00.000-07:00

Right now, I am very grateful for my nose. I am sitting on the couch and smelling dinner cooking in the kitchen. I can smell garlic and onions and ham ... I'm making split pea soup (which I have never done before). I'm not sure how it will turn out but--man oh man!--it smells good. Isn't it wonderful to have a nose?

Bodies are such amazing things. As I watch my son, Soren, grow and develop, I discover anew all the amazing things a body can do. He is fascinated with the different textures of things he can touch. He is experimenting with the different sounds he can make and the other ways he can communicate his desires. He is very pleased when I understand him and he gets what he wants. What a change from the motionless blob he was at birth! When he's tired, he presses his face into my chest and oh! how I love to feel his warmth. I love to feel him in my arms, just as I love to feel Scott's arms around me.

I know that one of the very important reasons God sent us to this earth was to give us bodies. I know that God has a body and that we are created in His image. Our bodies, although not perfect, are wonderful gifts from a Father who loves us. They were the crowning glory of His creations. Nothing man has made can approximate their marvelous abilities. I know that they are sacred, as all gifts from God are, and that I am responsible for taking care of mine. (I'm sure that nodding off and falling on my butt in the shower this morning was not being a wise steward of my body but hey! at least I'm washing it.) I do love my body and want it to last a long long time!

I'm looking forward to being grateful for my taste buds in just a moment.

God is Just and Merciful

2008-07-28T23:43:00.000-07:00

I am grateful for this teaching of the prophet Abinadi: "The time shall come when all shall see the salvation of the Lord; when every nation, kindred, tongue, and people shall see eye to eye and shall confess before God that his judgments are just." When I look at the great inequality in the world and wonder why I have been blessed with all the greatest temporal and spiritual blessings of this life when others have so little, I remember this scripture. When I despair of every being able to make a difference in this world, I remember that Christ has already made the difference that will matter in the end. I can still reach out with compassion to those around me but when that cannot alleviate their greatest needs, I must trust in their Savior, and mine.

Holidays and Families

2008-07-26T19:07:00.000-07:00

Because Scott works for the Church Office Building, he got Pioneer Day off--and the Friday afterwards! We've been enjoying his four-day weekend.

Thursday we went to see the Pioneer Day fireworks at Liberty Park. We walked down there at about 8:00 pm and nabbed a great spot at the lake front. We spread out our blanket and played logic games. My sister, Brianna, made up lots of code-related puzzles. Scott's were very clever and sometimes terribly tricky. Soren was up way past his bed-time but refused to sleep. Still, he was very cheerful. He enjoyed looking at the enormous, spotted Great Dane sitting behind us and at all the kids waving glow sticks around. When he got tired, he cuddled into Scott's chest or my lap. That was a rare treat. The fireworks were amazing. It was fun to celebrate our heritage and be together as a family. That's what I love about holidays: they bring us closer together as a family.

Friday, we all went swimming. Scott blew up a kiddie floaty for Soren, which he really hated. Brianna liked it, although it was way to small for her, and Soren got a kick out of watching her flail about it in. Then we spent the afternoon playing games. Scott has been such a good sport about having my sister around. He treats her like another member of our family. I know my mom was worried that he would get irritated having her around but he's been so kind and cheerful. I love her a lot and spending this extra time with her has been one of those tender mercies of the Lord. I didn't get to bond with her much before I left home. It's been wonderful to have time to catch up with her and talk about the things that are truly important to us.

Brianna left Friday evening to spend the weekend with our Aunt Karen. And so today has been completely laid back. With all the fun things we did the past two days, it was nice to have an unhurried day. We spent the morning reading on the couch while Soren played with his monkey ball on the floor. Then, this afternoon we took a walk to the park. We had a picnic and tried to feed the ducks. I say tried because they were uninterested in anything we tried to give. I guess that Saturdays are a popular duck feeding day and that they were already bloated by the time we got there!

As always, I am grateful for every day that I have to spend with my beautiful family. I know that we will be together forever, sealed in the temple as an eternal unit. Still, the mind-boggling amount of time we will share in the future does nothing to diminish each precious day. Scott and I were listening to a favorite talk by Russel M. Nelson the other day. In it, he talks about how we should not take those we love for granted. He says that when we recognize God's hand in the construction of our families, we will find more joy in those most precious relationships. And it is true! I know that my Father in Heaven brought Scott and I together because He knew that our marriage would bring us great and everlasting joy. He sent Soren to us because He knew that our posterity would strengthen that bond and increase our happiness. He made our family possible and has given them to me forever. I am so grateful for this most wonderful gift!

A Culture Steeped in Truth

2008-07-23T07:47:00.000-07:00

Today I am grateful for the Temple Square Summer Concert Series. Twice a week, the church invites someone to perform in the Brigham Young Historic Park across from Temple Square. And it is such a wonderful idea! The concerts usually incorporate a spiritual message and even when they don't, it is sure to be an uplifting and clean performance. It is a fun opportunity for families to get together and enjoy positive live media, as well as a non-threatening way to share the gospel. I think next time we go, Scott and I will have to bring a non-member family with us. There's a family that lives below us with a single mom and three little kids. They might enjoy coming.

The performance we went to last night was a survey of Polynesian dance and music. The really cool thing about it was that so much of the dancing was gospel-related. They had a dance about Joseph Smith's First Prayer as well as a dance about Christ's teachings to the rich man. The really cool thing about this is that gospel stories are actually an integral part of their culture now. When the church was bran new, missionaries were sent to Hawaii. In spite of the difficult time the missionaries had learning the language, the gospel took off in Hawaii and from there spread like wildfire through the islands. There has been a vast church membership in Polynesia for more than 150 years and it is a much greater percentage of the population than almost anywhere else in the world. Those scripture stories are important to the people and so they encoded them in their dance and music. It was very inspiring to watch and listen as the pure truths of God's church where presented.

I am grateful for cultural diversity and all the different beautiful means of expression through which we can approach and convey truth.

Pioneer Heritage

2008-07-21T12:23:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, Scott and I had the opportunity to speak in our church's sacrament meeting. In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons), the worship services are taught by the everyday members of the church. Speakers and chosen and topics are assigned by our bishops, but the meeting is directed by ordinary members of the congregation. This week, it was our family's turn to speak and we were assigned the topic of our pioneer heritage.

A pioneer is someone who leads the way, making it easier for others to follow. We often think in the Mormon church of the pioneers that made the trek out West, fleeing persecution and searching for a safe-haven where they could make their home and worship according to the dictates of their own conscious. They tamed the wilderness in Utah and set up the headquarters of our church, making it possible for us to belong to God's true church today.

But those are not the only pioneers that have impacted my life. I have recently been very impressed with the legacy that parents and grandparents leave behind. They form righteous traditions that become a lasting heritage. In my talk, I talked about some of my family members that made difficult changes in their life, making it easier for me to follow. I talked about my great-great-great-great grandfather, Moses Clawson, and the early saints following first Joseph Smith and then Brigham Young as prophet. They were pioneers, showing us that no matter whom the Lord’s mouthpiece, commandments still come from God. Because of their faithfulness, when Gordon B. Hinkley died this past year, it was natural for the members of the Mormon church to transfer our loyalty from Gordon B. Hinkley to Thomas S. Monson. I also talked about Scott’s family and how his older sister was a pioneer. She was the first person in their family to go on a mission and she got a lot of flack about it from her extended family. But she went and made it easier for Scott to follow. I also talked about my mom and how she was a pioneer in establishing a healthy and eternal family relationships and how my home today is modeled after the one she showed me how to build. I was very grateful for the topic because it helped me not to take for granted the blessings I have received from my family’s pioneers.

Scott spoke about how we are all adopted into the family of Christ when we become members of the church and how because we are all spiritual brothers and sisters, we can all take pride in each other’s heritage. He told the story of the Hmong saints and how he was proud to share in their heritage and how excited and proud they were to share in the pioneer heritage. It was really moving.

I appreciate the way our church is organized so that all its members have an opportunity to both teach and learn. As always, it's when I'm called upon to teach that I learn the most.

Creation and Adult Imagination

2008-07-18T12:58:00.001-07:00

The human capacity to create is a marvelous gift from God. We have been given the powers of procreation, to bring children into this world, and also a talent for creation, to make something greater than the sum of its constituents. We talk to children a lot about imagination and creativity but not much about this to adults. But what a wonderful gift it is to look at the world through different eyes, to see the mundane items of your everyday life and put them together for a fresh purpose.

Today my sister and I constructed a tent in our living room. I once thought that my free imagination was gone, bridled by the daily grind of "responsible", adult life. To release that inner creator was one of the main goals in our family's month-long novel writing adventure. I wrote a novel in one month and allowed myself to make horrible mistakes and liberating discoveries. It was fun today to use that explorative mindset in a much more messy way. And I am here to say that adults have imaginations just as powerful, if not more so, as children. The tent I made today in my living room is far more unusual and unique, structurally sound, enticingly interactive, and aesthetically appealing than any I ever made as a child.

We just finished it. I can't wait for Soren to get up from his nap so I can see how he likes it. Oh! I think I hear him now!

As a parting shot, I want you, dear reader, to know that the boundless capacity for creation we have as humans is because we are also children of God, the creator of us all. We can be as He is someday and we get to practice right now. So create something!

Family

2008-07-15T13:27:00.000-07:00

My sister is here!

Wheat Puffs

2008-07-14T09:27:00.001-07:00

Scott and I have been praying for a while now that we would figure out how to keep Soren happy during church. I love to attend my church meetings but it is a lot less fulfilling when our son is screaming the whole time. It's hard for him to be there because he misses almost two naps in the course of the meetings. He is such a good eater, player, and sleeper at home but he hates the unfamiliar and restraining environment of church meetings. Soren is a spirited guy and he gets very vocal when people tell him what he can and can't do.

At first we rigged up a bottle with pureed baby slop in it and aligned his midday feeding with sacrament meeting, in an effort to keep his mouth plugged and us in our pews. However, we quickly realized that only keeps him content for a few minutes. Once he has downed the baby food and nursed, he remembers again how exhausted he is and begins to wail in earnest. Juggling him from gimmick to gimmick has ensured in the past that Scott and I do not get much out of any meetings and that we are more crazy than rejuvenated by the time the last hour ends. I'm not complaining, I hope. I have learned many valuable things from this tiring experience. I was just a little tired of learning patience. So every Saturday night we have prayed for inspiration or for a crazy fluke.

This last Sunday, our prayers were answered. It sounds like such a simple thing, but I am grateful for wheat puffs and the marvelous Sabbath experience they provided my family.

Wheat puffs: wheat :: Popcorn : corn. They are a simple food, whole grain, with lots of air that dissolve easily on contact with the mouth. Soren is old enough to start chewing little pieces of real food so wheat puffs enable him to enjoy a new and interesting texture without fear of choking. He rolls each tiny kernel around in his mouth for about a minute, greatly elongating the feeding process. So instead of giving him his daily dose of yogurt and oatmeal, we drew his midday feed out to fill the whole three-hour block. Each time he got a little cranky, we popped a wheat puff in his mouth. Then during the last hour, he nursed and nearly went to sleep!

We have been trying to teach him that there are other ways to find comfort besides eating but we've decided just to give up during church. He's learned that he doesn't need to eat all the time at home but since it is impossible for him to take the naps he so badly needs during church, a reliable form of comfort is desperately needed. I really feel that the Lord answered my prayers when I found that big bag of wheat puffs on sale at the store and decided to try them. I learned so much during church yesterday! I felt at peace again, able to contemplate and fellowship without being completely frazzled. I'm just so glad that we finally found a method of appeasement that works for our family.

You could be a further answer to my prayers by adding any of your own tricks and suggestions for keeping babies happy in church.

Weekends

2008-07-12T12:01:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about how people used to live hand-to-mouth and could never take a day off. It was extraordinary when the Jews received the ten commandments and started keeping the Sabbath. All the civilizations around them must have been so astounded! Here are these people who rest one day in seven and they are successful! And now, we have a whole weekend! It's marvelous that we live in such a time when it is possible to have two our of seven days off! Maybe we don't use both of them to rest--when I do I find the house becomes unbearably disorganized--but I really enjoy them all the same. I love Saturdays, when my husband gets to be with me all day and we do things that improve our family and home. I love Sundays, when I get to go to church and be reminded that the Lord's yoke is easy and light. These two days are a gift from God and I am grateful for them.

Community

2008-07-11T10:49:00.001-07:00

I love living in the city. There are so many neat things in our community. I love all the ways that I can connect with other people in similar situations and participate in a social network of face-to-face interactions. I appreciate the fellowship of my church and I love the ways my city provides me to meet new people.

Yesterday Soren and I went to Book Babies at the library. I am getting to know a lot of the other moms in my community and I love this chance to be with them. Soren enjoys exploring the other babies--we're still working on not poking their eyes out--and I appreciate the fun interaction this setting provides for us.

After Book Babies, we rode the train to Scott's work and had lunch with him. I made In and Out muffins to share with his co-workers, who are all excellent and uplifting people to spend time with. We took a walk around temple square after lunch and enjoyed each other's company and the beautiful environment that surrounds the church headquarters. Scott was talking the other day about how grateful he is for his work environment. An old friend came to visit us for the 4th of July and he was complaining about how the people he works with are selfish and crass. Scott doesn't work with anyone like that and it is a huge blessing in his life and in mine. He always comes home happy and excited about the things he is accomplishing, never drained by a negative work environment. I know that not everyone can work for a religiously oriented office. It's not something we ever thought we would be doing. But I am glad that the Lord had a better plan for us and that he has given us this enormous blessing.

On the bus ride home, we got to interact with lots of kind people. People who helped me with the stroller, who were obviously excited about life, who were willing to share of themselves with me. I love to learn from other people. There are so many different, interesting, and good ideas out there and the more we partake of other people's ideas and learn about their experiences, the more truth will rise to the top. It sounds silly, but I'm glad I'm not the only person on this earth. I mean, duh, but I love people! They are all children of God and I can learn from each of them. I am so glad that my Father in Heaven has allowed me to interact with His children.

Spiritual Habits Bring Peace

2008-07-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

I know that the leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are men of God, prophets who will lead us to eternal joy if we heed their counsel.

I've started a new habit that has greatly enhanced my life. Each day, during the baby's second feeding, I choose a general conference talk from the archive at lds.org and I watch it. Usually I let it run through a couple of times, paying close attention the first time and then doing some housework while it plays again. This repetition helps the words to really sink in and, while my hands are doing something mindless, I can be pondering the messages that God wants His children today to hear. General conference is the organized decimination of God's words for us at exactly this time. I am so grateful that He speaks to us today and has seen fit to give contemporary guidance for my life. I am grateful that I have easy access to those words, because they have power to guide, heal, and bless me on a daily basis.

I have been doing this for a few weeks, now, and it was only yesterday that I learned how big a difference it makes in my life. A friend recommended a television show to me that is available to watch online. Even though I don't normally watch any TV, I was curious and looked it up. I used all my down time that day watching episode after episode and, as a consequence, never took the time to include my daily conference talk. The show was degrading and false, a poor substitute for the pleasing word of God.

That evening, when Scott came home, I was cranky and glum. I couldn't figure out why I was so upset, but I just wanted to snap. There was a void and I was angry at my husband and my baby for not being able to fill it. The atmosphere in our home was very tense. I was casting about, trying to find something that would make me feel better when I remembered the missed talk. I asked Scott if he would sit and watch one with me after we put the baby to bed.

It was Elder Holland's April 2008 talk about continuing revelation. I don't remember much of what he said but I do remember that as soon as I heard his voice, knowing that he is a mouthpiece of God, I was soothed. The Holy Ghost bore testimony to me of his calling and of the truth of his words. When I invited the Holy Ghost into my heart, it became soft and full of peace.

This habit has invited the Holy Ghost to reside on a more permanent basis in my home. There is quite a contrast between inviting the world into my home and inviting the Spirit of the Lord. I am so grateful for this particular tender mercy of God: that He has a mouthpiece on the earth today, Thomas S. Monson, and that I can receive His words, and through them His Spirit, in my heart, my home, and my life.

Modern Marvels

2008-07-07T07:37:00.000-07:00

As a continuation of yesterday's post, I wanted to tell you about the wonderful afternoon I had with my husband. I was feeling a sudden awareness of and awe at the many blessings we have that we take for granted in life. So Scott and I played a little game where we took turns talking about things that we are grateful for. Scott was really preoccupied with electricity and other modern marvels. He kept talking about how wonderful it is that we have running water and lights. He said that at his office, some of his co-workers had gone on business trips to third world countries that were partially--if not totally--wasted because the power went out for days and they couldn't teach their translators to use the tools they needed. I can't imagine the power going out for days! Whenever I flip on the light switch and the lights don't come on, I think Hmmm, the power must be out. I'll wait a couple of minutes and it will come back on. And even that kind of thing is really uncommon.

So I've been thinking about the wonders of technology and all the gadgets I have that make my life a lot better. I am grateful for my electric lights and my computer. I am grateful for the internet and for the stove. I am grateful for the microwave. I am grateful for a hot shower in the morning and a flushing toilet. I am grateful for my washer and dryer as well as my dishwasher. It's easy to be grateful for those things because I remember when I didn't have them. It makes my life very pleasant and comfortable to have those things in my very own home. I am grateful for my stereo and (though we don't use it often) our car. I'm sure Soren is very grateful for the television; isn't that depressing?

The Glad Game

2008-07-06T14:42:00.000-07:00

Today I had one of those experiences that Elder Eyring was talking about in his general conference address last fall. I really felt the voice of the Lord telling me, "I'm not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down." I am so glad that talk has been bouncing around in my head and that I could remember that as I was being taught in an experience that can be meaningful for me and my posterity.

I was sitting in the foyer of our church building during Relief Society holding Soren on my lap. He'd been screaming for the entire church block and I'd given up on trying to be in any of my meetings. I was feeling very discouraged and he was exhausted and wanted to go home and to bed. I felt so much self-pity; I wanted Sundays to be rejuvenating and strengthening and I felt that they sapped all the energy and patience out of me instead. All I could think about was "Why me?"

A kind man came out of Elder's Quorum and went into a little room off the foyer for a moment, then came and sat on the couch with me, wanting to see the baby. Soren was in top form, sputtering and wailing, completely inconsolable. The man offered to hold him and tried several positions in an attempt to sooth him. Soren was just so tired and nothing was quite like his comfortable and familiar bed, so he kept crying. The man smiled and kept trying new things, all the while talking about how wonderful babies are. I was shocked that he could be so good-natured about it!

Finally, he gave up and gave Soren back to me and I rocked him on my lap. We got to talking--just small talk--and I asked him what was in that room he had gone into. He said it was the kitchen (weird place for it) and that he had gone to get some salt. He explained to me about some medical condition he had that made him very weak if he didn't get enough sodium.

"Bleh!" I said. "That sounds gross!"

He said the most astonishing thing. Perhaps it will seem quite simple to you but it was a much needed revelation to me. He said, "It's all right. Some people have it much worse." Then he smiled and we didn't talk about it anymore.

He had every opportunity and right to moan and make me aware of his misfortunes. I've often felt that talking to people about my problems makes me feel better about them. I know that isn't true. Elder Holland said, "No misfortune is so bad that whining about it won't make it worse" and so of course complaining can't make our problems better. But I've never really met anyone that so whole-heartedly embraced that idea. And he seemed so happy.

Eventually Soren fell asleep on my chest. It was only for a couple of minutes and I was so worn out, I think I would have missed the glory of the moment entirely if I'd stayed in my spiral of self-pity. But the man I was talking to said, "Isn't it all worth it, for one moment like that?" And I looked down and Soren and my heart swelled with gratitude. He was so dear to me in that moment. His mouth was hanging open and his thumb was half-way in; he was drooling all over my chest. His little body was limp in my arms and his eyes were closed. He was so warm and soft. I almost missed how wonderful it was!

I am so grateful for my precious son and I am grateful for a stranger that helped me slow down and enjoy the tender mercies of the Lord rather than focus on the negative aspects.

The Multiplicity of Methods

2008-07-05T21:05:00.000-07:00

Today I am really grateful for the way that the Lord humbles me.

I have been reading a lot of books about parenting and developing a very firm paradigm of babies and the best way to care for them. In my pride, I've cultivated an unhealthy scorn for parents whose philosophy is on the other end of the spectrum. I thought it was in a good spirit, that I just wanted to tell everyone about the mindset and patterns that saved my sanity and changed my baby's temperament. And I was gloating about how peaceful and predictable my life was, forgetting the times when Soren is completely miserable. He's pretty easily placated (except at church) and I figured it was because I had become such a wonderful mom.

So when we set up a babysitting co-op with another couple in the ward, I figured caring for their five-month-old boy would be a piece of cake. They would bring their fussing, confused infant and I would take him and offer comfort, stabilization, and rest. He would love my home in which everything is orderly and calm; my confidence would lull him to a serene state.

It was quite the opposite. Alisha brought her tiny little boy Wallace over at around 6:00 pm. He was cheerful and played on the floor with toys for about five minutes after his parents left. Then he began to cry, looking from Scott to me and back to Scott again, wondering where in the world his beloved parents were. I put him through the gauntlet of tricks I try with Soren. First, I picked him up and rocked him, making soothing noises. He cried. Then I offered some toys to him, demonstrating the fun noises they could make. He cried. Maybe a change of environment would make him feel better? I put him in the swing. Nope, he just cried. His mother had just barely fed him, so since he didn't want to play with toys or people, I figured he must be tired. Poor thing, so exhausted. I could offer him the gift of sleep. I laid him down in Soren's bassinet and rubbed his back gently. He cried harder. I clung to my paradigm, figuring that there could be no other solution to his pains. He just needed time to grow accustomed to a new place to sleep. I wouldn't overstimulate him or disturb his sleep pattern by pulling him out so soon. I just kept rubbing his back and shhhing him. And he just kept crying.

Finally, knowing that his mother wouldn't want me to just let him cry, I changed my strategy. I gave up on my perfect "fool-proof" soothing rituals and offered the methods I had so often scorned in other parents. These are things I don't offer Soren to sooth him, because I am trying to teach self-soothing methods, which he has taken to really well. First I tried to sneak a bottle into his wailing mouth. He continued crying. Then I swaddled him and offered a pacifier. He cried. Finally I stuck him in a sling and took him for a walk. He whimpered, but at least he wasn't crying. That lasted about 15 minutes, then he picked up again.

Needless to say, when his mother and father came to pick him up at about 8 pm, I was happy to hand him over and embarrassed to see how happily he settled into the nook of his mother's hip. How could I have ever doubted this loving woman who so obviously loved and cared for her child, even if it was in a way different than the way I cared for mine? Soren and Wallace are very different people and I feel lucky to have discovered the routines, games, and techniques that sooth and entertain my son. Just because they work on Soren does not in any way mean that they are superior. I forgot that the only necessary ingredient in parenting is love. If we love of our children as our Father in Heaven loves us, we can never go wrong.

I'm not sure if any of this makes sense but I am very grateful for the things I have learned from this experience. I am grateful to have learned that I do not know everything and I am not a fool-proof parent. This will prevent me from getting stuck in my mistakes, being too blind to see them. I am grateful that the Lord has not asked me to be perfect yet, but to rely on His perfection rather than the flawed philosophies of men. I am grateful for the example of the Savior and hope that I can follow His commandments as I raise my children.

A Testimony of a Loving God

2008-07-02T12:25:00.001-07:00

I know that there is a God in heaven and that we are His spirit children. I know that He loves us with a perfect and unfailing love. I know that as His children, we can be like Him and that there is nothing that would bring Him greater joy than to have us all reach our full potential.

I know that He has a plan for us. An integral part of that plan is the sacred gift of agency that He will never take from us. Our Father in Heaven would like us all to make the choices that will bring happiness but I know that He will never force our hand. He has given us the power to choose, knowing that sometimes we would choose wrong.

However, He does not want those wrong choices to mean the end of our progression. He has provided us a Savior, Jesus Christ, who atoned for our sins. He has made reconciliation with the Father on our behalf so that, if we are willing, we can cast aside those wrong choices and take up again our true potential. Jesus Christ has shown us how to live so that we can become like our Father in Heaven. He has shown us how to love and to gain spiritual knowledge. Most importantly (I feel), He has shown us how to love. God is love and if we would be like Him, we must learn to love our Heavenly Father and to love each other.

I know that Jesus Christ's atonement has the power to make all things right. With our misused agency, anguish and suffering has entered the world. I know that Christ will make those things right when He comes again in glory to rule and reign over all the earth.

I am grateful for this testimony. It is this faith that gives me hope for myself and those I love. It is this faith that gives me hope for all of humanity. It is not a faith in man, who is flawed, but a faith in God whose love and wisdom are perfect.

Kind and Friendly People

2008-07-01T13:18:00.000-07:00

Today I am grateful for the kindness of strangers, especially those strangers that can become friends.

Scott and I just moved into our new ward about two months ago. I know it takes time for relationships to form but there are some members of our ward that have done an amazing service by roping us into their activities and projects. One woman in particular has impressed me as a true example of compassion and awareness. Her name is April and even if I didn't think she was one of the coolest people ever, I would be forced still to tell you about how thoughtful she is. Only a few weeks after moving into our new apartment, she showed up on our doorstep in the middle of the day when I was home alone with Soren. She said that she was going on a walk and wondered if I wanted to come. She knew that being a stay-at-home mom is sometimes a lonely job, especially when you don't know anyone in your area. Since then, she has invited me to participate with her in lots of daytime activities and filled me in on all of the fun and free things to do in our city. She loves to read and has all kinds of great tips for saving money. She is gregarious and practical. Her daughter, Sequoia, is cheerful and only a little older than Soren. She likes to watch SciFi shows and has great taste in books, movies, and food. We have a lot in common and I hope that she is as excited about our budding friendship as I am. After all her kindness to me, I wouldn't want to impose myself on her.

The reason I have her on my mind is that she had a party this morning for new moms. It was such a good idea! She invited a lot of bran-new stay-at-home moms to her house and had crafts and food and toys. Unfortunately, not very many people came. It was actually just April, Alisha, and I but we had a lot of fun just fellowshipping together. I am very grateful for the instant sisterhood that the church provides us with. I can't imagine being a stay-at-home mom without the support and structure of the church. I would never meet anyone or do anything! Relief Society is a wonderful blessing in that way. Anyways, we had a lot fun at the party talking about new mom stuff. Alisha and I are actually planning on doing a babysitting swap! That way we will be able to date our husbands again! Yeah!

I invited both women (and their babies) to come swimming with me tomorrow. I'm just really happy today because I feel like I'm making friends. And I'm grateful for the willingness of kind women to reach out and include me so that I can be involved. Isn't this exciting?

Empowerment

2008-06-30T22:41:00.000-07:00

Today was the last day of our family's Writing Month and I have just completed my 50,000 word novel. The end of it is very skeletal and rushed but I did it and maybe in a couple of weeks I will have the gumption to go back and start editing it. For now, I am just tickled pink that such an enormous volume of creative work has been completed and that I actually did what I set out to do. There is a wonderful feeling that comes from accomplishing a goal, especially a crazy but entirely measurable goal. It's the feeling of empowerment. I just achieved a dream I thought was impossible. What other impossible things could be accomplished?

Of course, I cannot take the glory for myself. Even on such a temporal level, this novel I have written is a gift from God. Many nights Scott and I would pray for the determination and the creativity to keep writing. I know that my Heavenly Father wanted to help me with this because my success in this very worldly matter is still important to Him. Because He loves me and wants me to succeed in all of my righteous desires.

A Family Holiday

2008-06-30T10:06:00.000-07:00

I was sick on Friday, so I didn't write, but I was very grateful that Soren was able to play with himself so that I could rest. I spent most of the morning dozing and felt a lot better afterwards. Getting sick always reminds me of playing Oregon Trail and the icon popping up that says someone in your party is sick. The way to make them feel better is to rest for many days, but sometimes that a really bad idea when you have the winter deadline for pushing yourself out West. I'm glad that we live in a time with a little more leeway. To take a day off to rest and feel better isn't a recipe for disaster or family ruin. I know we always talk about how we live in a really fast-paced world but it's nice that we have the conveniences and support structure in place to allow us to take things a lot slower than they had to a couple of centuries ago.

Anyways, I got well and the weekend was AMAZING. Saturday was our anniversary and I couldn't have planned a better way to spend it, even if I'd tried. The nice thing about it was that Scott took charge of it and really enjoyed treating me. We had our traditional waffle breakfast. I made the waffles from scratch this year and they were really buttery and sweet. Scott went to the grocery store and bought me roses. There were two this year, for the two years we've been married. Then, while Soren napped, Scott helped me put on my wedding dress. The skirt was really wrinkled but wearing it was super fun and made me feel really beautiful. Scott is very good at making me feel beautiful. It was his idea to have me wear it and he kept saying, "Spin around. I know you want to." He knows me really well. I know it sounds really vain, but I always appreciate the way that Scott dotes on me. He said, "You look more beautiful today than the day you were married and that's saying a lot because you were the most beautiful woman in the world that day." I hope we can make a tradition of this. Last year I was a little too pregnant to squeeze into the dress but this year it fit perfectly. Anyways, after the dressing up we looked at wedding and engagement pictures on Scott's computer. I love pictures and I'm so glad that technology today allows us to take so many. Then we walked to the grocery store (with the baby) and picked out some fancy cheese. We got Swiss Raclette and French Bree with a bagette and a bottle of grape juice. Then we walked to Liberty Park and sat under the shade of a huge tree to try some new cheeses. The seagulls gathered round and Scott gave them austere and sophisticated British accents. They were trying to convince us that they were discerning enough to deserve some cheese but were sorely disappointed. We had brought them the heal of a regular bad loaf and Soren loved watching them hop around, fighting over the crumbs we threw to them. When we were leaving, there was a group of college students getting ready for a LARPing battle, but we had to get home because a sitter was coming for Soren. Sister Gillespie watched him while Scott and I went to the temple. I am very grateful for the generosity of people. It was very refreshing to spend that time one on one and I'm glad that Sis. Gillespie made that possible. The temple was wonderful. I really love my husband. I'm so glad that we are going to be together forever. And it's not just someday. Forever starts now. I often feel that when Scott comes home and holds me and the baby in his arms, it's just like what being in the celestial kingdom must be like. I have everything I could ever want at that moment. All those things we came to earth for, the things that Heavenly Father wanted for us, are there in that circle of love. I have a body and an eternal companion and I have posterity that has sprung from those former two gifts. And I want nothing more than for those things to continue forever.

The Renewing Power of the Atonement

2008-06-26T09:07:00.000-07:00

I was listening to a talk by Joseph B. Wirthlin the other day that, although it was mostly directed to inactive members of the church, has given me something to think about. He said that when we are converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ by truly coming unto the Savior, he will renew our bodies and give us energy and strength. It reminded me of the story in the Book of Mormon where the people had heavy burdens placed upon them and when they prayed, the Lord did not take those burdens away but made them lighter on their backs. Elder Wirthlin brought up the scripture "for my yoke is easy and my burden is light". This is a promise that I am grateful for. I know that I have comparatively few responsibilities in my life and only a little work to do right now but I feel very keenly the need for the strengthening and invigorating power of the Holy Ghost. So I've been praying every day for this spiritual gift and I know that the Lord is upholding me as I strive to do the important things in life. Some days I feel so drained and it seems that I'm not able to get very much done but when I look back on the day, I know that the Lord has helped me to do those things that are most important. He was sustaining me when the baby needed to be fed or played with. He was sustaining me when I wanted to sleep but needed to read the scriptures. He was sustaining me when I was preparing to welcome my husband home from work, giving me the energy to cook and tidy up. And he has always sustained me with ample energy when my new calling has placed demands on me. Even if I get only those few things done every day, then that is a tender mercy of the Lord to me. It is those things that make my life full and meaningful, not the side projects and flurry of activity I often envision myself involved in. I am grateful for the simplicity of the gospel and the sustaining power of the Holy Ghost.

The Technology of our Forefathers

2008-06-25T13:15:00.000-07:00

Today I am grateful for technology. Scott and I were talking the other day about human history and how amazing it is that we live at the pinnacle of so many years of advancement. He was saying that people in Sumeria, thousands of years ago, must have thought they were living in the golden age. They had cities and farming, beer and writing, art and music. And yet, now here we are, in an era so advanced we cannot imagine mankind without those essentials. And we have technology that has transformed our relationships and our pursuits. I love the internet and cameras and word processors and telephones. It's wonderful that we live in a time when I can talk to my parents, who are thousands of miles away, every day. I can take videos of their grandson and within minutes, they can be watching what he was just doing here. Or, with a web camera, they can watch his discoveries as they unfold. I really appreciate the way technology has connected our world and how it has made it possible for me to have a close relationship with my parents, even though we cannot be together right now. I was thinking the other day about pioneer women who, once they had married Mormon boys, left behind their parents and siblings to travel west, knowing they would not see or hear from those people they knew and loved for the rest of their lives. What heartbreak! And yet, no matter where we go in the world, now I can still be connected to my family. This is surely a blessing from God.

The Patience of our Father

2008-06-24T09:17:00.000-07:00

So, what is this? Well, I've decided to start a gratitude journal or, as I want to call it, my Tender Mercies Log. I've kind-of resisted starting a blog because I don't think I'm very entertaining and I like to read blogs when they are funny. But funny so often means negative and cynical to me and that's not the way I want to look at my life anymore. I want to be more positive and more aware of the Lord's hand in my life. Every good gift I have comes from him, and I feel keenly the need to record those good gifts. And maybe when you read this, you will be more aware of the hand of God in your life. It's a form of worship, I think, to remember and be thankful. In church on Sunday our high councilors spoke about Henry B. Eyering's talk "O Remember, Remember" from the October 2007 general conference. I do remember being very impressed by it and each time I am reminded of it, I feel very strongly that I need to write in my journal. Well, now I have set aside a specific time of day to write about the things the Lord has done for me. And that's all I'm going to write about because there is no need to gripe about any misfortunes I might have.

So the first thing I am grateful for is Heavenly Father's knowledge of my human failings and the constant gentle reminders he gives me. The Lord truly does stand at the door knocking and waits for us to let Him into our lives. He isn't just standing out there, though. He knocks again and again for those of us who want to let Him in but just forget He's out there. I am so grateful for that gentle tapping of the Holy Ghost. I have often noticed in my life that in a short period of time, the same principle of the gospel will be presented reiterated again and again until I pick up on it. Heavenly Father is seeking to bless me by giving me His gentle commandments and He does not give up the first time I brush them aside. I do think that writing more consistently in a journal is very important. I have never found it to be particularly therapeutic and don't know if there are exciting stories in my life that beg to be recorded, which is why I have so often petered out on consistent record-keeping. But I do know that the Lord's hand is in my life every day and that a record of those dealings, blessings, and promises would be of great value to me and to my posterity. So I am very grateful that God has reminded me of this over and over until it stuck. Or at least, I hope it's at the sticking point, now. But I just wanted to record that these gentle prods of the Spirit are a tender mercy of the Lord.

Just one more thing. My whole evening yesterday was another blessing from God, mostly because of the time I was able to spend with my kind husband and little Soren. I don't know how to describe those evenings that fill me up with joy and make it obvious to me why God's greatest gift to us would be eternal life, or an eternal family with limitless posterity. Sometimes I think of them as domestic tranquility but it's a much more powerful feeling than that. To see my husband smiling and playing or singing with our son is one of the greatest joys I've ever known. I know that the depth of my happiness comes from our eternal marriage and the sure knowledge I have of the divine nature and potential of our family. I am grateful for that knowledge and for the reality of its blessings in my life today.

Peace Like a River

2008-06-18T10:04:00.000-07:00

"Leif Enger ... is a natural-born storyteller, and his novel moves in a current that can be poetic and slow or as tumultuous as whitewater rapids. This novel has the power to convince that, despite sorrow, human experience is a miracle of ordinary truth and extraordinary love." - Atlanta Journal-Constitution

This month in our ward's book club we have been reading Peace Like a River by Leif Enger. And I sprinted through it today so that I would be ready to discuss it for our group. But I think I would have read it this solidly anyways since it is so well-written. I think this is some of the most stupendous prose I have ever read (with some of the greatest poetry interspersed). And I grew very attached to the characters very quickly.

In the novel, the boy Rueben remembers an unforgettable year of his childhood in a small town during the mid-twentieth century. When his brother, Davy, shoots two local bullies who break into their home and then escapes fom prison, Rueben, his sister Sweden, and their father take a cross-country journey to find their outlaw brother and son. They are followed by a federal agent who believes the family will lead him straight to the convict Davy. Reuben watches his father battle between love for his son and a desire to do the right thing in this haunting story about family and miracles.