Okay, I know, I'm posting like crazy, silly me.
I just had to write this because it was just so special. I don't care if no one reads it, I just want to remember it.
I work with kids. Some kids love me, some kids like me, some kids barely know me, and some kids... I wouldn't say they don't like me but they are shy so they kind of keep to themselves and it's hard to get through to them.
These shy ones, I have learned, are like gold in the hillside, and if I can just get through the shell, oh what a treasure I find.
One of these shy ones was there when I went in the room today. I was just stopping in, and he looked up as I opened the door. I smiled at him, winked, and stuck out my tongue.
For ONE INSTANT there was this gleam of laughter in his eye, a twitch at the corner of his mouth, and BAM I saw the gold. He closed back off right away, but I got a peek and I'm so jazzed that he let it out even that long.
Hot dog, I love that kid. I can't wait to make him smile again.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Three days later
and I'm still frustrated that I was misunderstood and didn't have the chance to fully state my position in Sunday School. This is dis-jointed and rambling but sometimes I just have to let it out before I explode.
So:
I think that most people labor under a false assumption that life is supposed to be easy. It's not. It's supposed to be hard, it's supposed to make us learn and grow.
And what I would have added if given the chance:
It is through the process of constant attrition that we find true joy and not the shallow temporary happiness-es that so many think are joy.
Joy is not in money, fame, ease, comfort, or HDTV. It isn't in checking off the list of the ways you are perfect.
Joy is in the journey, in hard work, in the peace you have deep down even when you are going through trials. Joy is your testimony, is love, is the touch of a child. Joy is abiding and sure, it can be masked for a time by emotional upset, but it isn't gone, it is always there if you reach through the mists and hold on.
Joy isn't what we find at the end of the road, it's the companion that held our hand the whole way through. It is as doggedly determined as a Marine and as gentle as a butterfly kiss.
Yes, "Men are that they might have joy." That's the whole point of life, not to earn the joy in the end but to be joyful, to find out that we ARE joy.
We ARE light.
And if you AREN'T joy yet, if when you look at your core and you don't find a pillar of light connected straight to heaven, well then you don't know yourself very well, and I hope your next trial helps you find out.
So:
I think that most people labor under a false assumption that life is supposed to be easy. It's not. It's supposed to be hard, it's supposed to make us learn and grow.
And what I would have added if given the chance:
It is through the process of constant attrition that we find true joy and not the shallow temporary happiness-es that so many think are joy.
Joy is not in money, fame, ease, comfort, or HDTV. It isn't in checking off the list of the ways you are perfect.
Joy is in the journey, in hard work, in the peace you have deep down even when you are going through trials. Joy is your testimony, is love, is the touch of a child. Joy is abiding and sure, it can be masked for a time by emotional upset, but it isn't gone, it is always there if you reach through the mists and hold on.
Joy isn't what we find at the end of the road, it's the companion that held our hand the whole way through. It is as doggedly determined as a Marine and as gentle as a butterfly kiss.
Yes, "Men are that they might have joy." That's the whole point of life, not to earn the joy in the end but to be joyful, to find out that we ARE joy.
We ARE light.
And if you AREN'T joy yet, if when you look at your core and you don't find a pillar of light connected straight to heaven, well then you don't know yourself very well, and I hope your next trial helps you find out.
Monday, August 23, 2010
The Moth
Do you see it? Do you see the moth that is flying with all his might against my curtain? He is trying with all his might to get out there to the light.
As I sit here at my computer in a reflective state of mind I realise how much smarter that moth is than me.
You see, he is not beating his head against a flashy computer screen. If it was the only light in the room perhaps he would be drawn to it, but no. He sees the greater light, and struggles to attain it.
How often do we focus on alternate forms of light? How often do we see reflected light and think we are on the right path? When we have become accustomed to the dark, do we shrink against the light that busts upon us, shielding our eyes, blocking it out.
Or do we run to the greatest light, hungry for it's warmth. Do we seek out true light to guide us? Do we even remember how it feels on our face?
Remember, remember the Light of the World. Bring Him into your day, every day. Let Him warm you, let Him guide you, let Him fill you with His light.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Beauty from the wreckage
When hurricane Katrina blasted her way into the Gulf Coast she left behind her a depressing display of wreckage and devastation. There are still vacant lots and skeletal remains where grand buildings used to stand.
My friends met and fell in love in Biloxi over ten years ago, and are stationed there now with their family. When we visit them our conversations in the car are sprinkled with "used to be" and "was." The city is working hard on it's recovery though, and each visit we find it more beautiful and the beauty is a testament to the efforts of the locals.
As I drive down Highway 90 to get to the base where they work and live I very much enjoy one particular effort, and I would like to share my reflections on it with you.
The highway has a tree lined median, where grand oaks towered, deeply rooted in the Mississippi sand. All of them lost limbs and leaves during Katrina, stripped bare and stung by the wind driven rain. Many of the trees never recovered, and they died slowly.
Then someone had an idea. Instead of tearing the trees up the government contracted with an artist to make them into sculptures, so the trees could continue to beautify the land where they had stood throughout memory.
So the work commenced. The artist sawed and hacked, carved grooves and took out whole chucks of the once proud trees. I am sure they protested, I am sure the wood whined at him as he worked, but he lovingly continued shaping them until this is what was left:
We live in trying times. Each of us is surrounded by people who have been buffeted and stung by the winds and rains of life. They clung to their roots while the floods washed around them, and sometimes they have been through so much that they have lost all hope of being what they once were.
Some would say there is no hope for them, that they are unsightly and should be removed from our view so that their devastation doesn't devastate us more. However, I think we should be like that Mississippi visionary, and like that artist. We should see the value in a soul. We should see the potential when there is little left of what once was.
The greatest artist that ever lived was Jesus Christ, for he made things of miraculous beauty out of the most damaged and destitute of souls. I'm no Monet, but he's made something beautiful out of me. He sent artists with rough tools to shape me, they've knocked off whole chunks off me and whittled and gouged. It's been a painful process.
Now as I stand here and the wind blows around me, flowing like music through beautiful lines I never knew I had, I understand. I understand that Jesus always sees the beauty in me, at all stages of my life, and that if I trust him I can see it too.
If we trust him we can see, and reveal the beauty in all of us. Sometimes all God needs is an artist.
http://www.biloxi.ms.us/cityatwork/cityatworkdetail.asp?ID=367
My friends met and fell in love in Biloxi over ten years ago, and are stationed there now with their family. When we visit them our conversations in the car are sprinkled with "used to be" and "was." The city is working hard on it's recovery though, and each visit we find it more beautiful and the beauty is a testament to the efforts of the locals.
As I drive down Highway 90 to get to the base where they work and live I very much enjoy one particular effort, and I would like to share my reflections on it with you.
The highway has a tree lined median, where grand oaks towered, deeply rooted in the Mississippi sand. All of them lost limbs and leaves during Katrina, stripped bare and stung by the wind driven rain. Many of the trees never recovered, and they died slowly.
Then someone had an idea. Instead of tearing the trees up the government contracted with an artist to make them into sculptures, so the trees could continue to beautify the land where they had stood throughout memory.
So the work commenced. The artist sawed and hacked, carved grooves and took out whole chucks of the once proud trees. I am sure they protested, I am sure the wood whined at him as he worked, but he lovingly continued shaping them until this is what was left:
We live in trying times. Each of us is surrounded by people who have been buffeted and stung by the winds and rains of life. They clung to their roots while the floods washed around them, and sometimes they have been through so much that they have lost all hope of being what they once were.
Some would say there is no hope for them, that they are unsightly and should be removed from our view so that their devastation doesn't devastate us more. However, I think we should be like that Mississippi visionary, and like that artist. We should see the value in a soul. We should see the potential when there is little left of what once was.
The greatest artist that ever lived was Jesus Christ, for he made things of miraculous beauty out of the most damaged and destitute of souls. I'm no Monet, but he's made something beautiful out of me. He sent artists with rough tools to shape me, they've knocked off whole chunks off me and whittled and gouged. It's been a painful process.
Now as I stand here and the wind blows around me, flowing like music through beautiful lines I never knew I had, I understand. I understand that Jesus always sees the beauty in me, at all stages of my life, and that if I trust him I can see it too.
If we trust him we can see, and reveal the beauty in all of us. Sometimes all God needs is an artist.
http://www.biloxi.ms.us/cityatwork/cityatworkdetail.asp?ID=367
Monday, August 02, 2010
Personal Growth
A teen I know posted something on her facebook last night, and it was one of those rare times where the response just hits you and you feel you must say it. It seemed to hit home with her, so I thought I'd post it here as part of my ever growing collections of spiritual thoughts.
She asked, "Why is it that being who you are was good enough at first, then continuously being who you are just isn't good enough in the end?"
I responded, "It depends on your definition of who you are. You see, every acorn in an oak tree inside. It's all there and a wise observer will see it by its potential and not its current state. Now if an acorn chooses it can stay an acorn and either rot away or become squirrel food. That's the acorn's choice, and that will be its story. The wise observer however will be a bit sad that the acorn didn't send out a root, and put in the effort to become the tree it always had the potential to be.
Growth is part of life, and she who does not constantly try to grow is in danger of being overcome by the rot of the world or the dangers that would destroy her potential."
(Thank goodness it was well received.)
She asked, "Why is it that being who you are was good enough at first, then continuously being who you are just isn't good enough in the end?"
I responded, "It depends on your definition of who you are. You see, every acorn in an oak tree inside. It's all there and a wise observer will see it by its potential and not its current state. Now if an acorn chooses it can stay an acorn and either rot away or become squirrel food. That's the acorn's choice, and that will be its story. The wise observer however will be a bit sad that the acorn didn't send out a root, and put in the effort to become the tree it always had the potential to be.
Growth is part of life, and she who does not constantly try to grow is in danger of being overcome by the rot of the world or the dangers that would destroy her potential."
(Thank goodness it was well received.)
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Beauty of The Plan
I was driving down the road today and I saw a little girl running in her yard. The sun was shining down on her and her waist length tresses streamed out behind her, gold ribbons dancing in the wind.
It made me think about when I was a kid, how the wind would whip through my hair, and in my youthful innocence I imagined that the wind started blowing when I went outside, just so it could play with my hair.
I know, it sounds so vain, and I'll admit to a certain level of vanity, but perhaps it was not as vain as it sounds.
In Moses 1:39 it says: For behold, this is my work and my glory- to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.
You see, right there in black and white, it's about us, all of it. The whole focus of God's Eternal Life, the thing He Glories in, His greatest work, is US.
When I was younger I didn't understand that concept. I didn't understand why it would be about us. What could matter about us so much that God would care? I thought people loved for reasonS. I thought they loved you because you were pretty, or funny, or smart, or kind, or even because you were superwoman and were all of those things at the same time.
I didn't get it, I didn't get it for the longest time, after I became a mother. Then I understood that parents and God don't need reasonS, they have A reason. You are theirs.
God loves us because we are His. Not because there is something or a group of somethings about us that make us special. He loves us because we are HIS. He loves us because we are part of Him, the way our children are part of us.
When we love a child that child carries around a part of our very essence. We watch and protect that child, long to ease that child's pain, dream for that child, and feel the breath catch in our throats at the beauty of that child.
So when that little girl was running across her yard, I watched her and God watched her. I was awed by the beauty of the moment, but God was watching her and loving her, fluttering her hair with the wind He provides for her, warming her with the sun that He lit for her.
This is the constant, eternal, love of God, a love so great that it sustains us even when we ignore it. A love so great that it provides a way for us to begin to understand it, that we may accept it. God sends us children to teach us about His love, to teach us about how important we are to Him. He gives us these souls to show us how effective a parent can be even when the child seems to not be listening; to show us that constant care for those we love can be long, hard, and unappreciated, but that it is worth it. God gives us children to show us how the process of growth is not meant to be easy, on them OR on us, but that the growth is vital to success.
That is the beauty of The Plan, His Plan.
So next time your hair is whipped around in the wind, please know, that wind WAS sent for you. Your Heavenly Father just wants to play with His darling little one's hair for a minute, because He loves you.
It made me think about when I was a kid, how the wind would whip through my hair, and in my youthful innocence I imagined that the wind started blowing when I went outside, just so it could play with my hair.
I know, it sounds so vain, and I'll admit to a certain level of vanity, but perhaps it was not as vain as it sounds.
In Moses 1:39 it says: For behold, this is my work and my glory- to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.
You see, right there in black and white, it's about us, all of it. The whole focus of God's Eternal Life, the thing He Glories in, His greatest work, is US.
When I was younger I didn't understand that concept. I didn't understand why it would be about us. What could matter about us so much that God would care? I thought people loved for reasonS. I thought they loved you because you were pretty, or funny, or smart, or kind, or even because you were superwoman and were all of those things at the same time.
I didn't get it, I didn't get it for the longest time, after I became a mother. Then I understood that parents and God don't need reasonS, they have A reason. You are theirs.
God loves us because we are His. Not because there is something or a group of somethings about us that make us special. He loves us because we are HIS. He loves us because we are part of Him, the way our children are part of us.
When we love a child that child carries around a part of our very essence. We watch and protect that child, long to ease that child's pain, dream for that child, and feel the breath catch in our throats at the beauty of that child.
So when that little girl was running across her yard, I watched her and God watched her. I was awed by the beauty of the moment, but God was watching her and loving her, fluttering her hair with the wind He provides for her, warming her with the sun that He lit for her.
This is the constant, eternal, love of God, a love so great that it sustains us even when we ignore it. A love so great that it provides a way for us to begin to understand it, that we may accept it. God sends us children to teach us about His love, to teach us about how important we are to Him. He gives us these souls to show us how effective a parent can be even when the child seems to not be listening; to show us that constant care for those we love can be long, hard, and unappreciated, but that it is worth it. God gives us children to show us how the process of growth is not meant to be easy, on them OR on us, but that the growth is vital to success.
That is the beauty of The Plan, His Plan.
So next time your hair is whipped around in the wind, please know, that wind WAS sent for you. Your Heavenly Father just wants to play with His darling little one's hair for a minute, because He loves you.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Beauty
In days when I
was young and thin
with sparkling eye
and flawless skin
I thought that I knew beauty,
but now I see more truely.
The gift of age
to me has been
a wisdom sage
and joy therein
for now I know true beauty,
is something that's inside me.
Beauty free, beauty light,
beauty fills all my sight.
A baby's smile,
a weathered hand,
the extra mile,
a wedding band,
I see it all around me,
for beauty shines so freely.
In skipping stones
and basket balls;
in telephones
and crowded halls;
In each I see such beauty,
for joy and love surround me.
Beauty free, beauty light,
beauty fills all my sight.
For beauty rare
is Heaven's light
it's shining there
in all that's right.
In you I see that beauty,
that look that says "God loves me."
In every heart,
in every flower,
there is a part,
that feels His power,
and that my dear is beauty;
the part of us that's Godly.
Beauty free, beauty light,
Beauty fills all my sight.
was young and thin
with sparkling eye
and flawless skin
I thought that I knew beauty,
but now I see more truely.
The gift of age
to me has been
a wisdom sage
and joy therein
for now I know true beauty,
is something that's inside me.
Beauty free, beauty light,
beauty fills all my sight.
A baby's smile,
a weathered hand,
the extra mile,
a wedding band,
I see it all around me,
for beauty shines so freely.
In skipping stones
and basket balls;
in telephones
and crowded halls;
In each I see such beauty,
for joy and love surround me.
Beauty free, beauty light,
beauty fills all my sight.
For beauty rare
is Heaven's light
it's shining there
in all that's right.
In you I see that beauty,
that look that says "God loves me."
In every heart,
in every flower,
there is a part,
that feels His power,
and that my dear is beauty;
the part of us that's Godly.
Beauty free, beauty light,
Beauty fills all my sight.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Mother of My Son
My son has been giving me a lot of stress lately. (I really think it is closely connected with his upcoming 8th Birthday, if you follow me on that.) So today when he was missing as the announcements started in Sacrament Meeting I headed out to find him, again.
It didn't take long, much to my surprise he had been outside picking me a flower, having been denied possession of one of the typical Mother's Day carnations. He handed me this little beauty and wished me a happy Mother's Day.
After we sat down he reached over and ran his finger over the petal, then reached up and touched my face. "It feels the same," he said simply, and my heart just glowed.
I know he gives his Primary teacher a work out, I know his curiosity is going to cost me thousands before he is grown, and I know most days are a battle of epic proportions; but right there, that moment, that's what is so wonderful about being his mom. There is something pure and bright inside him, a sweetness hardly anyone else knows, and as much as I wish he showed it more often, it makes moments like this all the sweeter.
Friday, May 07, 2010
Now THAT'S clever
I enjoyed a movie recently that I really didn't expect to enjoy.
It was Avatar.
I know, everyone was singing its praises back when it was out, and when it was up for awards, but I didn't see it then.
We picked it up a few weeks ago. My husband watched it after I went to bed, and then insisted I watch it the next day. I'm glad he did (usually I don't trust his taste in movies, but here I am saying, "You were right honey.")
The graphics were incredible. Notice the period. Technology can be a beautiful thing, however, that isn't what impressed me. The plot was okay, just your basic remake of a historical favorite, typical "SciFi comments on history" kind of a thing.
What impressed me was the idea of a triple layer mind control in an alien symbiotic environment where the very nature of the planet lent itself to adopting an individual who proved not only instrumental but crucial to the protection of the environment.
The more I think about it, the more I think the author was a GENIUS.
I wish I was that clever. I mean, I can be clever, but WOW what an idea.
It was Avatar.
I know, everyone was singing its praises back when it was out, and when it was up for awards, but I didn't see it then.
We picked it up a few weeks ago. My husband watched it after I went to bed, and then insisted I watch it the next day. I'm glad he did (usually I don't trust his taste in movies, but here I am saying, "You were right honey.")
The graphics were incredible. Notice the period. Technology can be a beautiful thing, however, that isn't what impressed me. The plot was okay, just your basic remake of a historical favorite, typical "SciFi comments on history" kind of a thing.
What impressed me was the idea of a triple layer mind control in an alien symbiotic environment where the very nature of the planet lent itself to adopting an individual who proved not only instrumental but crucial to the protection of the environment.
The more I think about it, the more I think the author was a GENIUS.
I wish I was that clever. I mean, I can be clever, but WOW what an idea.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Daring
Dear Hollywood:
I just read a blurb that flashed up on my screen, inviting me to view the "daring" photo shoot of yet another screwed up celebrity.
What cracks me up is that you people still think that getting pictures taken of you in various kinds of lingerie is daring.
Sorry to break the news to you folks, but that's not daring anymore. We've reached the point in our society that whoring yourself for a camera and trying to buy approval with your sex appeal is MUNDANE! Who cares about your crack ravaged arms and fake DD's? Please, how often have we seen that? Give us a break.
You know what is daring? Having 15 kids, and raising them well, that's daring. Daring is having morals when everyone around you is throwing their soul away for cheap thrills. Daring is teaching your kids to pray, honor that which is holy, and read the word of God.
You think you can revolutionise the world by mainstreaming darker and more lascivious deeds? HA! You're not revolutionary, you aren't even unique, you're just another drop in the downward flowing tide.
You know what? I feel really sorry for you.
I just read a blurb that flashed up on my screen, inviting me to view the "daring" photo shoot of yet another screwed up celebrity.
What cracks me up is that you people still think that getting pictures taken of you in various kinds of lingerie is daring.
Sorry to break the news to you folks, but that's not daring anymore. We've reached the point in our society that whoring yourself for a camera and trying to buy approval with your sex appeal is MUNDANE! Who cares about your crack ravaged arms and fake DD's? Please, how often have we seen that? Give us a break.
You know what is daring? Having 15 kids, and raising them well, that's daring. Daring is having morals when everyone around you is throwing their soul away for cheap thrills. Daring is teaching your kids to pray, honor that which is holy, and read the word of God.
You think you can revolutionise the world by mainstreaming darker and more lascivious deeds? HA! You're not revolutionary, you aren't even unique, you're just another drop in the downward flowing tide.
You know what? I feel really sorry for you.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I'm really only posting this for me
I just want to put it down somewhere so I will remember it, someday I may need the reminder.
A girl who read my book (the second one) came to me a few days ago and asked if she could read my book again.
I write for me, I write as a hobby, and outlet. Getting published is only a tiny part of it.
However, it is immensely gratifying that someone, especially a shy someone, would ask to RE-read my work.
That is a true compliment.
A girl who read my book (the second one) came to me a few days ago and asked if she could read my book again.
I write for me, I write as a hobby, and outlet. Getting published is only a tiny part of it.
However, it is immensely gratifying that someone, especially a shy someone, would ask to RE-read my work.
That is a true compliment.
Monday, April 26, 2010
The Completion of a Quest
Ladies and Gentlemen,
It is my honor to announce that after 15 years of searching I have finally found the illusive desire of my heart.
Long ago a beloved friend gave me a rare and precious gift. Inside the deep purple bottle was contained a fragrance beyond compare. I loved it from the first whiff, and rationed the precious ounces out over the years. It was one of the few scents I could wear without feeling constriction in my chest, an unpleasant feeling I have known again and again in the intervening years.
For ration as one way, a few ounces will go away, someday, and leave one destitute and scentless.
Then, one day (as I waited for the children to pick up the toys at Grandma's before going home) I picked up a magazine. Flipping through the pages I came up on an advertisement for a new perfume. I took a cautious sniff, ready for my lungs to seize in protest, as they nearly always did.
Instead, I knew instantly that I had found it at last! That scent! It bore another name, it wore another bottle, but I knew it instantly!
My next trip to the store had me venturing boldly among the bottles I usually avoided, but alas, they did not stock it! So I found among the lotions one that had the tiniest whiff of the right scent buried under the other ingredients.
There you are, orchid sweet, I have found you, where have you been all these years?
I wore the lotion often, but though that one, perfect scent was there among the others, and I smelled so very nice indeed, I longed for a fuller experience of my beloved scent.
Then Friday night my husband decided we needed to go grocery shopping at 11:30 pm. I had my second wind (having just printed out the 5th draft of my second book) so I went along only a little reluctantly. We strolled along, enjoying the freedom that the kids regular Friday night at Grandma's gives us to be an old married couple. Then as we passed the perfume aisle a purple display caught my eye! Hurrah! My illusive scent, my passionate perfume, at last I have you! I can spray you on my arm and drink you in. At last my big nose is the hero of my body as it fulfills the role to which it was born!
At last, at last, I have found my orchid perfume.
Thank you Halle Berry.
(And by the way, the orchids at our Lowes are defective and have no scent at all, or I would own a roomful.)
It is my honor to announce that after 15 years of searching I have finally found the illusive desire of my heart.
Long ago a beloved friend gave me a rare and precious gift. Inside the deep purple bottle was contained a fragrance beyond compare. I loved it from the first whiff, and rationed the precious ounces out over the years. It was one of the few scents I could wear without feeling constriction in my chest, an unpleasant feeling I have known again and again in the intervening years.
For ration as one way, a few ounces will go away, someday, and leave one destitute and scentless.
Then, one day (as I waited for the children to pick up the toys at Grandma's before going home) I picked up a magazine. Flipping through the pages I came up on an advertisement for a new perfume. I took a cautious sniff, ready for my lungs to seize in protest, as they nearly always did.
Instead, I knew instantly that I had found it at last! That scent! It bore another name, it wore another bottle, but I knew it instantly!
My next trip to the store had me venturing boldly among the bottles I usually avoided, but alas, they did not stock it! So I found among the lotions one that had the tiniest whiff of the right scent buried under the other ingredients.
There you are, orchid sweet, I have found you, where have you been all these years?
I wore the lotion often, but though that one, perfect scent was there among the others, and I smelled so very nice indeed, I longed for a fuller experience of my beloved scent.
Then Friday night my husband decided we needed to go grocery shopping at 11:30 pm. I had my second wind (having just printed out the 5th draft of my second book) so I went along only a little reluctantly. We strolled along, enjoying the freedom that the kids regular Friday night at Grandma's gives us to be an old married couple. Then as we passed the perfume aisle a purple display caught my eye! Hurrah! My illusive scent, my passionate perfume, at last I have you! I can spray you on my arm and drink you in. At last my big nose is the hero of my body as it fulfills the role to which it was born!
At last, at last, I have found my orchid perfume.
Thank you Halle Berry.
(And by the way, the orchids at our Lowes are defective and have no scent at all, or I would own a roomful.)
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Scary Thought
I realised today how incredibly close I am to forty. I suppose it means I've turned a page in my life that I can look at a span of 9 years as "close," but all the same, yikes!
It's not the big looming number FORTY that people fear, because like I did with my thirties I and looking forward to my forties. I don't fear age and rather enjoy the thought that I am proportionately closer to catching up to my mom every day that passes.
No, it's something else that scares me. I look at my forty-something friends and I realise how much have to learn, how much I need to mature before I'm there. Knowing as I do that wisdom and maturity come through attrition, yup I'm a bit scared. That's a lot of hard-knocks.
I'll take them though, and try to learn as much from each to avoid re-peat blows. I'll do it because I want to be like them, and I know not all forty-somethings ARE like these beloved women. So I've got to do it right, as scary as it is.
I suppose this is kind of what it felt like walking up to the veil between the pre-earth life and mortal birth.
It's not the big looming number FORTY that people fear, because like I did with my thirties I and looking forward to my forties. I don't fear age and rather enjoy the thought that I am proportionately closer to catching up to my mom every day that passes.
No, it's something else that scares me. I look at my forty-something friends and I realise how much have to learn, how much I need to mature before I'm there. Knowing as I do that wisdom and maturity come through attrition, yup I'm a bit scared. That's a lot of hard-knocks.
I'll take them though, and try to learn as much from each to avoid re-peat blows. I'll do it because I want to be like them, and I know not all forty-somethings ARE like these beloved women. So I've got to do it right, as scary as it is.
I suppose this is kind of what it felt like walking up to the veil between the pre-earth life and mortal birth.
Monday, April 19, 2010
On My Birthday
Now that another year is done
And I am turning thirty-one,
It's time for me to celebrate
The blessing of a life so great.
I take my opportunity
To think of all God's given me.
Parents so dear, and far away,
Put so much into today
Labor to bring me to this world,
Remain I in their love still curled.
Formed and born, then raised up in love,
The first of blessings from above.
Then to flank me along my way
Came siblings in their vast array.
Though side by side the world we met,
We see it not the same, quite yet.
Oh the things I could only learn,
From the teachers that Mom has born.
Friends came, some went, but some did stay.
They cheer and bless down to today.
Some knew me back when I was small
Some got to know me grown and tall,
But each a gift, a treasure true,
Thank heaven I was given you.
Funny and sweet, and often kind,
And so complex I've come to find.
This man who walks along with me
May not see our eternity,
But helps me grow in his own way,
And works for me all night and day.
Then came a child, with much to teach,
Learned not I from her baby speech,
But from her quiet, gentle way
Found truth in all my parents say.
Though deaf to truth, for all those years
I've learned by crying Mommy tears.
A gift I gave, on Father's Day,
A gift to whom? I hear you say.
My son, a gift, to all he knows,
To all who shape him as he grows.
In helping him be still and reach
We find the patience that we preach.
More drama than should ever be
Confined in one little body,
The fairy that could rule the world,
Nations around that finger twirled,
This force of nature I'm to groom,
And help her in the light to bloom.
Yes, blessed am I, beyond the price,
I've paid, lo He has giv'n me twice!
Through time's wisdom I can now see,
The Lord is anxious to bless me.
So I trust in His constancy,
Wait and see what He makes of me.
I turn my thoughts from of happiness,
To pain with which I have been so blessed.
For change, progress, comes not in ease,
But in dark hours spent on my knees.
Lord, I thank thee also today
For the trials I've lived on my way.
In conquering each bitter hour
I've learned my strength, and trust God's power.
There is not formed an enemy,
That we can't conquer, God and me.
I know not joy like which is from
Each trial that We have overcome.
Blessed am I beyond all measure,
Blessed beyond a great king's treasure.
No mere candle could grant a wish,
To match my over flowing dish
Of family, friends, and victories won.
Just think, the fun has just begun.
And I am turning thirty-one,
It's time for me to celebrate
The blessing of a life so great.
I take my opportunity
To think of all God's given me.
Parents so dear, and far away,
Put so much into today
Labor to bring me to this world,
Remain I in their love still curled.
Formed and born, then raised up in love,
The first of blessings from above.
Then to flank me along my way
Came siblings in their vast array.
Though side by side the world we met,
We see it not the same, quite yet.
Oh the things I could only learn,
From the teachers that Mom has born.
Friends came, some went, but some did stay.
They cheer and bless down to today.
Some knew me back when I was small
Some got to know me grown and tall,
But each a gift, a treasure true,
Thank heaven I was given you.
Funny and sweet, and often kind,
And so complex I've come to find.
This man who walks along with me
May not see our eternity,
But helps me grow in his own way,
And works for me all night and day.
Then came a child, with much to teach,
Learned not I from her baby speech,
But from her quiet, gentle way
Found truth in all my parents say.
Though deaf to truth, for all those years
I've learned by crying Mommy tears.
A gift I gave, on Father's Day,
A gift to whom? I hear you say.
My son, a gift, to all he knows,
To all who shape him as he grows.
In helping him be still and reach
We find the patience that we preach.
More drama than should ever be
Confined in one little body,
The fairy that could rule the world,
Nations around that finger twirled,
This force of nature I'm to groom,
And help her in the light to bloom.
Yes, blessed am I, beyond the price,
I've paid, lo He has giv'n me twice!
Through time's wisdom I can now see,
The Lord is anxious to bless me.
So I trust in His constancy,
Wait and see what He makes of me.
I turn my thoughts from of happiness,
To pain with which I have been so blessed.
For change, progress, comes not in ease,
But in dark hours spent on my knees.
Lord, I thank thee also today
For the trials I've lived on my way.
In conquering each bitter hour
I've learned my strength, and trust God's power.
There is not formed an enemy,
That we can't conquer, God and me.
I know not joy like which is from
Each trial that We have overcome.
Blessed am I beyond all measure,
Blessed beyond a great king's treasure.
No mere candle could grant a wish,
To match my over flowing dish
Of family, friends, and victories won.
Just think, the fun has just begun.
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Sunday, April 04, 2010
I have found the lesson
Thank you to all who have so kindly, gently, and lovingly helped me. The comments on my last post and the ones on babycenter have been wonderful to read, wonderful to ponder, a balm on my heart.
As I watched conference yesterday I was filled, and only after reflecting on all of this combined have I concluded what I needed to learn. I should say re-learn, in a better an deeper way. It is something I have been taught for years, but now understand better.
The only opinion about me that matters is the Lord's opinion.
I have been blessed, truly, deeply, abundantly blessed with people in my life that love me. I rather adore myself too, which is sometimes not such a good thing... but you are all right. I have set far to much stock, for far to long, on what others think of me.
Perhaps this harks back to my childhood, when others proclaimed me ugly. Those who loved me said otherwise, but for some reason I believed the negative others. Or perhaps it was an extension of my knowledge that people are likely to be rather blind to their own faults.
Where ever it came from, I was wrong to allow others to challenge the whisperings of the spirit.
God loves the stuffing out of me, and I'm so thankful that He does. He is acquainted fully with all of my shortcomings, my secret thoughts, my desires, and my potential. He knows me better than I do, and He tells me I'm a good person. So I'm going to trust that, and try again to see the good person he sees in others. I AM going to continue to look for the good in them, I am going to assume good intentions in them. I am going to continue to see God in every face I look on.
Thank you all for helping me find my way through the fire. This side of the trial feels lovely.
As I watched conference yesterday I was filled, and only after reflecting on all of this combined have I concluded what I needed to learn. I should say re-learn, in a better an deeper way. It is something I have been taught for years, but now understand better.
The only opinion about me that matters is the Lord's opinion.
I have been blessed, truly, deeply, abundantly blessed with people in my life that love me. I rather adore myself too, which is sometimes not such a good thing... but you are all right. I have set far to much stock, for far to long, on what others think of me.
Perhaps this harks back to my childhood, when others proclaimed me ugly. Those who loved me said otherwise, but for some reason I believed the negative others. Or perhaps it was an extension of my knowledge that people are likely to be rather blind to their own faults.
Where ever it came from, I was wrong to allow others to challenge the whisperings of the spirit.
God loves the stuffing out of me, and I'm so thankful that He does. He is acquainted fully with all of my shortcomings, my secret thoughts, my desires, and my potential. He knows me better than I do, and He tells me I'm a good person. So I'm going to trust that, and try again to see the good person he sees in others. I AM going to continue to look for the good in them, I am going to assume good intentions in them. I am going to continue to see God in every face I look on.
Thank you all for helping me find my way through the fire. This side of the trial feels lovely.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I need some advice
Sorry this is so long, but you know me, I have to write it all BOOK length.
Some of you may know that I have, of late, had the opportunity to reflect in some depth on the way I handle my real-life relationships with other people.
Online I'm great. I put myself out there and don't usually see where people snicker at me, think little of me, speak badly of me behind my back, etc.
The trouble is, in real-life I've been having a lot of trouble lately. So let me explain where I'm coming from and I would appreciate some honest advice.
I have held for the last several years a strict policy of assuming the best in others. When something happens I have trained myself to look for the possible good intentions of the person who did it. I try to put myself in their shoes and give them every opportunity to NOT be a villain.
For the most part, I have found that this makes me see things from a more Christlike perspective. (Not that I'm bragging, I know I am far from perfect in this... esp with my kids, sigh.) With practice it has become my nature to think of 3-4 good motivations for an action, even if the action is "bad" by popular standards. This has made it easier for me to see others in a good light and love them in spite, or even because of their mistakes. I even get along with my mother-in-law pretty well (which will shock anyone who has known me long.)
I think I am right in this choice, most people are not cruel by nature. They are God's children, and whatever their mistakes they do things thinking they are doing the right thing. Why would anyone hold a perspective they do not really believe? Why would anyone stand for something unless they feel it is right? They wouldn't, people who know or suspect they are wrong re-think, adjust their stance, try to be more right.
The only cases of cruelty or ill-intent I have seen have been cases where it is obvious to me the person acts out of misinformation or anguish, and how can I condemn them for that?
My trouble lies in my recent experiences with people assuming the worst intentions IN ME. Somehow in this quest of new thinking I have apparently lost touch with the way others think (yes, even while trying to understand how they think. I'm not as smart as I think I am sometimes.) They assume ill-intentions of me all the time, think I do out of spite things I do out of logic and trying to balance the demands upon me. Even when I make a special effort to explain my intentions, they think I am a liar and really mean to injure them.
I really try not to make mistakes, I try to be kind, loving, and thoughtful in all I do. This recent rash of railings against me has left me teetering on the brink of depression and feeling lost.
I have realised that this is a something I really need to learn from, that something in my actions, or perspective must be lacking. This is another refining fire for me, another chance to become better, a chance to more closely align myself with the correct path. It just pretty painful right now, and I long for a sage verse of scripture to spell it all out for me. I need that ah-ha moment that suddenly clicks something inside me and unlocks the view of my next stepping stone.
So tell me, am I really supposed to live my life constantly choosing every action based on the myriad of bad-intentions others will imagine for me? Should I be adjusting my thinking to "How will someone think badly of me for this?" or "What choice will have the least amount of people angry with me?"
How do I live like that? How do I balance having a forgiving heart with living in a world where people seem to WANT to think badly of others? How on earth am I supposed to function thinking along that many paths at the same time, and all the time? My brain is already strained trying to juggle everything I've got going on.
Any thoughts? There has to be a simple solution for this. Something plain and precious, that's how God works, isn't it?
I guess I'm looking for the line between naive and truly wise, can anyone point me the right way?
Some of you may know that I have, of late, had the opportunity to reflect in some depth on the way I handle my real-life relationships with other people.
Online I'm great. I put myself out there and don't usually see where people snicker at me, think little of me, speak badly of me behind my back, etc.
The trouble is, in real-life I've been having a lot of trouble lately. So let me explain where I'm coming from and I would appreciate some honest advice.
I have held for the last several years a strict policy of assuming the best in others. When something happens I have trained myself to look for the possible good intentions of the person who did it. I try to put myself in their shoes and give them every opportunity to NOT be a villain.
For the most part, I have found that this makes me see things from a more Christlike perspective. (Not that I'm bragging, I know I am far from perfect in this... esp with my kids, sigh.) With practice it has become my nature to think of 3-4 good motivations for an action, even if the action is "bad" by popular standards. This has made it easier for me to see others in a good light and love them in spite, or even because of their mistakes. I even get along with my mother-in-law pretty well (which will shock anyone who has known me long.)
I think I am right in this choice, most people are not cruel by nature. They are God's children, and whatever their mistakes they do things thinking they are doing the right thing. Why would anyone hold a perspective they do not really believe? Why would anyone stand for something unless they feel it is right? They wouldn't, people who know or suspect they are wrong re-think, adjust their stance, try to be more right.
The only cases of cruelty or ill-intent I have seen have been cases where it is obvious to me the person acts out of misinformation or anguish, and how can I condemn them for that?
My trouble lies in my recent experiences with people assuming the worst intentions IN ME. Somehow in this quest of new thinking I have apparently lost touch with the way others think (yes, even while trying to understand how they think. I'm not as smart as I think I am sometimes.) They assume ill-intentions of me all the time, think I do out of spite things I do out of logic and trying to balance the demands upon me. Even when I make a special effort to explain my intentions, they think I am a liar and really mean to injure them.
I really try not to make mistakes, I try to be kind, loving, and thoughtful in all I do. This recent rash of railings against me has left me teetering on the brink of depression and feeling lost.
I have realised that this is a something I really need to learn from, that something in my actions, or perspective must be lacking. This is another refining fire for me, another chance to become better, a chance to more closely align myself with the correct path. It just pretty painful right now, and I long for a sage verse of scripture to spell it all out for me. I need that ah-ha moment that suddenly clicks something inside me and unlocks the view of my next stepping stone.
So tell me, am I really supposed to live my life constantly choosing every action based on the myriad of bad-intentions others will imagine for me? Should I be adjusting my thinking to "How will someone think badly of me for this?" or "What choice will have the least amount of people angry with me?"
How do I live like that? How do I balance having a forgiving heart with living in a world where people seem to WANT to think badly of others? How on earth am I supposed to function thinking along that many paths at the same time, and all the time? My brain is already strained trying to juggle everything I've got going on.
Any thoughts? There has to be a simple solution for this. Something plain and precious, that's how God works, isn't it?
I guess I'm looking for the line between naive and truly wise, can anyone point me the right way?
Friday, March 19, 2010
Who I was ten years ago
Someone threw the questions out: "Are you the same person you were 10 years ago? Have you changed?"
Naturally this caused a bit of reflection, and I thought I'd post my thoughts here so they don't get lost.
I'm not very old, I'll be 31 next month, but I find as I age I'm kind of making a circle and coming back to be the person I was when I was very little. I'm re-learning to trust God more completely, to think well of people in the world, to love everyone, to think vividly, to give with my whole heart.
Elementary school kind of messed me up, sigh.
When I complete this circle I'll be older, more seasoned, but my ultimate goal is to get to the point where the real me is out there for all to see and not buried under all these layers of pain, sin, and worldly things. She's here inside me, and she is who I really am, I'm just not being faithful to who I am because I've let the world jade me.
There are things in my past that I am ashamed of, sigh, there are things from a few hours ago, yesterday, the day before that, I wish I hadn't done or had done better.
The thing that encourages me is that regret. It means that even though I'm not doing everything right, my intentions and desires are good, I still hunger and thirst after righteousness.
That hunger is the real me, she has always been there, and I'm proud to be her.
Naturally this caused a bit of reflection, and I thought I'd post my thoughts here so they don't get lost.
I'm not very old, I'll be 31 next month, but I find as I age I'm kind of making a circle and coming back to be the person I was when I was very little. I'm re-learning to trust God more completely, to think well of people in the world, to love everyone, to think vividly, to give with my whole heart.
Elementary school kind of messed me up, sigh.
When I complete this circle I'll be older, more seasoned, but my ultimate goal is to get to the point where the real me is out there for all to see and not buried under all these layers of pain, sin, and worldly things. She's here inside me, and she is who I really am, I'm just not being faithful to who I am because I've let the world jade me.
There are things in my past that I am ashamed of, sigh, there are things from a few hours ago, yesterday, the day before that, I wish I hadn't done or had done better.
The thing that encourages me is that regret. It means that even though I'm not doing everything right, my intentions and desires are good, I still hunger and thirst after righteousness.
That hunger is the real me, she has always been there, and I'm proud to be her.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Another moment worth recording
My kids did not fight, argue, or yell for 30 minutes today.
I told them we would use my water color pencils and do art, but they had to be very polite to each other or the art session would be over. They were very good, used please and thank you, took turns with the single set of pencils.
Once they had finished the paintings they immediately started fighting again, but for 30 mintues we had love at home.
I told them we would use my water color pencils and do art, but they had to be very polite to each other or the art session would be over. They were very good, used please and thank you, took turns with the single set of pencils.
Once they had finished the paintings they immediately started fighting again, but for 30 mintues we had love at home.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Small and Simple Things
I have a friend who I admire very much. She's like me, she has to create to stay sane. She is 10 times busier than I am with work, and yet she still finds time to be creative.
I noticed recently that there is a difference in our approaches to creativity, and that I have an important lesson to learn from her. You see, she does a lot of small things, little crafts. She doesn't undertake dragon costumes, doesn't stress herself over sculptures (oh dear... I have another post I've neglected to do). She doesn't burn herself out with her hobbies.
I tend to burn myself out being creative, I'm obsessive really. I know a part of it is because I crave affirmation of my talent via the compliments of others. Another part is the challenge of going bigger, doing better, than what I (or often others)have done before. The rest is the way it feels to funnel my energy into something and make something new out of raw material.
That last part is really the part that matters though. The others are my insecurities, my frailties, but that last part, that is the spark of God within me, is it not?
So I have decided to start finding some little things to do. Small projects, simple projects, little ways to put that spark of creativity in my day to fill the gaps between my big projects.
As King Benjamin said, "for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength."
Also, as Alma said to his son, "behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass."
So if you are ever on my other blog and see something non-astounding, this is why. I'm pacing myself, at least I'm going to try.
I noticed recently that there is a difference in our approaches to creativity, and that I have an important lesson to learn from her. You see, she does a lot of small things, little crafts. She doesn't undertake dragon costumes, doesn't stress herself over sculptures (oh dear... I have another post I've neglected to do). She doesn't burn herself out with her hobbies.
I tend to burn myself out being creative, I'm obsessive really. I know a part of it is because I crave affirmation of my talent via the compliments of others. Another part is the challenge of going bigger, doing better, than what I (or often others)have done before. The rest is the way it feels to funnel my energy into something and make something new out of raw material.
That last part is really the part that matters though. The others are my insecurities, my frailties, but that last part, that is the spark of God within me, is it not?
So I have decided to start finding some little things to do. Small projects, simple projects, little ways to put that spark of creativity in my day to fill the gaps between my big projects.
As King Benjamin said, "for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength."
Also, as Alma said to his son, "behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass."
So if you are ever on my other blog and see something non-astounding, this is why. I'm pacing myself, at least I'm going to try.
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