It's never what I expect, and today is no exception. I miss 2nd ward traditions, I wanted to see our little Primary singing, etc. Our new ward is starting to feel less strange, but I still miss our old ward. It's apparently about a 4 year long recovery time and we are 4 weeks in. I'll make it.
They did something today that I liked and have been thinking about all week, trying to gather my thoughts. Sharing our favorite hymn with a short why. Like many of my other favorites, context matters but all week I've been thinking of "A Child's Prayer"
Rules were simple, a 1 minute "why" and from the hymn book. I had managed to write down a why that was condensed and photocopied the song from the Children's Song Book. Both rules circumvented, but it was very busy and I still feel a bit guarded {unless I'm spilling all of my inner thoughts on here} so I didn't get a chance to share, hence being here. The song is above, with scenes from Cokeville Miracle {great movie by the way} Here is my "why"
Spring of 2013 I was dealing with The Very Hardest of Hard Things and was very traumatized. Up didn't seem like up and for a week or so I was surprised each morning when the sun came up. I had no grasp on reality, but I knew that Christ knew me personally and believe that his heart ached with mine. I'd had a priesthood blessing from my Bishop and I know he cared, but I felt very alone and very scared. My prayers had very few words, lots of sobs and tears filled with emotions that there aren't words in the English language to describe. I'm not certain how that week ever ended, but it did as the Hard Things continued to pour forth. I acutely felt the lack of priesthood guidance in my home, as well as a partner or helpmate to get me through.
A few weeks after that very first night was General Conference. I remember so many details of that conference, the feeling of the blanket on my lap, my snacks, the smell of breakfast, my little TV with crappy signal, the pajamas I was wearing. Boyd K Packer gave his talk These Things I Know and in that talk are two great truths I needed to understand.
I have come to know that faith is a real power, not just an expression of belief. There are few things more powerful than the faithful prayers of a righteous mother.
Up until then I'd thought of faith as a feeling or emotion, not a power in itself and I discredited the power behind my wordless prayers that went straight from my heart towards heaven bypassing my mouth entirely. I knew God didn't answer my prayers how I had planned but I believed that yes, he does answer every child's prayer. I don't remember anything else that conference, just that I was going to be okay. I was fine on my own {fine is a relative term} and that my faith had power behind it, not just warm feel goods. We were going to get through
Things are different now, We are dealing with Hard Things 3: Cancer, Again. instead of Hard Things 2:The Very Hardest of Hard Things The kids are older (easier and harder all at the same time) and I'm not alone (but at times I still feel very lonely and afraid) and in some ways they are the same. That first week feels like an alternative reality, and I'm not certain how it ended. I'm not sure what I'm suppose to learn this time, but I'd like to learn it so we can move on to a chapter I'd like to call After Hard Things Life is Grand but I don't know that my life gets that chapter, so I'm working on finding grand things in the midst of Hard Things. Life feels very uncertain for me right now, but I know Christ understands me, and he knows what it's like when I'm paralyzed with fear and uncertainty. God does answer every child's prayer, and not just all those other prayers but my prayers too. I believe in the power of believing. What I wish I knew is where all of that is going to leave me, but for tonight I pray in sobs of uncertainty and fear knowing that there is power in that prayer.
We went on Trek to Martin's Cove and Rock Creek Hollow end of June and first part of July. I've been before. 4 years ago we went on a youth trek through Kiabab forest ending overlooking the Grand Canyon. When Michael was a baby our Ward went, so 14 years ago or so. Every time I have not been able to write about the experience to a level equal with the intensity of the week. I expect this time to be similar, and I have no idea how to even proceed, but I go back to work tomorrow so I'm trying to get something down for now.
The History
This is where I will fail miserably. Click here for another account. Fire and the Covenant is a historical fiction novel written about the handcart companies, and Follow Me to Zion is a collection of journal entries and stories. A quick search on amazon has several books listed.
In 1856 Brigham Young authorized LDS saints to travel to Utah by handcart. They had started the perpetual emigration fund to help gather the saints in Zion and using handcarts could gather 10 saints for every 1 by wagon train. The first 4 handcart companies (about 500 people each) had made the long trip successfully. Traveled by ship to either Boston or New York and then by train to Florence, Nebraska. In Florence they built handcarts and sewed tents for the journey. These saints were not frontiersmen nor had they been trained for the journey ahead of them. They did have the faith to do whatever was required of them. They started late in the season and had several set backs to getting started. They were allowed 17 pounds of belongings.
As they came through Wyoming they were hit with a harsh winter storm and they had been on reduced rations already. The Martin Company along with Hunt and Hodgett Wagon companies (about 1100 people) took shelter in Martin's Cove and the Willie Company took shelter at Rock Creek Hollow being 100 miles ahead of the Martin Company. When Brigham Young heard that there were saints out in the storm he said "go and bring them in" sending out rescue parties and supplies.
The Stories
The stories are endless, and I could talk forever about the ones I know, what they taught me and what I hope to never forget.
Francis Webster (He settled in Cedar)
In a Sunday School class the teacher was being harsh and critical of the handcart companies coming so late in the season and Francis Webster was sitting in the class and said
‘I ask you to stop this criticism. You are discussing a matter you know nothing about. Cold historic facts mean nothing here, for they give no proper interpretation of the questions involved. Mistake to send the Handcart Company out so late in the season? Yes. But I was in that company and my wife was in it and Sister Nellie Unthank whom you have cited was there, too. We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation, but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? …“‘I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, I can go only that far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it.’”He continues: “‘I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there.“‘Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No. Neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company.’”
After my hardest of Hard Things I've often thought this Hard Thing is my price, and I have become better acquainted with God. The second part I am eternally grateful for.
Ann Jewel Rowley
She's my ancestor, was part of the Willie Handcart company and best known for the sea biscuits in the Dutch Oven as portrayed in 17 Miracles. She's one of my favorites because she came across a a single Mom bringing 7 kids. "If Ann Jewel can do that, I can manage kids schedules, work, school, and the house" got me through days I didn't think I could go on any farther.
Samuel Rowley
I learned this time that after being part of the Willie company he was later called on a mission to settle San Juan. He was in the first group that went through Hole In the Rock. Not only can we do Hard Thing, but can do multiple Hard Things. I can't think of anyone who would say that was 'fair' but he was called and he went. He never complained.
Trek 2015
Pre-trek: Sewing, sewing, and more sewing. Packed in 5 gallon buckets and gathered epi-pens, inhalers, first aid supplies, portable nebulizers, last minute tent crew stuff.
Day 1: We left the Stake Center at 5 am (well, we were suppose to) and most people loaded onto tour buses, significantly different than the train ride in crowded train cars being threatened as they passed through towns. Neil and I were fortunate enough to be able to ride with Benson's. We drove, what seemed like forever through empty Wyoming plains to arrive at Martin's Cove. Neil at the last minute was put on tent crew (the second tent set up didn't go so well, due to some lack of miscommunication/knowledge/information) and in minutes it went from raining and blowing while setting up tents to heat, sticky humidity, and mosquitoes.
Bishop Heap spoke at a fireside, everyone was clean and fresh. We were well fed (the entire Trek we had plenty of good food) and then the adults worked on getting the kids to go to sleep. Michael and Dallin caught rabbits and went looking for rattlesnakes. 'oy.
Fitbit has me at about 12,000 steps. Most of it from tent set up I'm certain.
Day 2: Breakfast at 7 am to load the buses at 8. Breakfast was great -- biscuits and gravy with delicious sausage patties and we were on time, much to my surprise. They broke the stake up into two main groups (orange flag and a red, white, and blue flag loaded onto the front carts) We also divided medical staff so that 3 of us were the 9 families and 4 of us were with 10 families. All of the kids except Kaede were in my group. Later I wished I'd been there to watch her closer. Reminders to start drinking.
They told us stories of Dan Jones and trying to eat hide glue then took us to the chapel where they played this video.
That video was my moment (along with the fireside the night before) I wasn't worried about people being dehydrated yet, I wasn't dehydrated, only 1 minor injury and no sore feet.
From the visitors center we walked towards the Sweetwater River crossing. Lots of reminding people to drink and then drink some more. I want to go back in the winter. When the pioneers crossed there were chunks of ice floating down the river and we looked forward to the relief from the heat. Later in the day when we crossed on the bridge I paused for a second and tried to imagine the green banks covered in ice and snow and the wind blowing bitter cold instead of like a furnace blower and my mind can't make that connection. Crossing the Sweetwater is Holy ground. There was reverence, tears, and beautiful violin music. Shortly after the Sweetwater we stopped at some statues. I can't tell you much about them because I was busy doing medical stuff, inhalers, sick kids, and reminding people to drink some more. From the statues it was a short walk to lunch. Shade, cool water, and food.
At this point all is going well, most people are drinking well and the rest from the scorching sun was appreciated. Just above the cart parking/pavilion is Martin's Cove. There are no handcarts and no water in the cove. Along the path to the cove is Dan Jones amphitheater where we stopped again. Both groups are together at this point and Kaede finds me to walk with me. She's red and not sweating and "can't find" her water bottle so she has a little 16 oz bottle that she's not drinking. I ask her to drink and she keeps talking. I asked if she has been drinking and she said no, I've been too busy pushing (and most likely talking) so I hand her my full water bottle and have her drink it and she perks up a little and starts sweating again. I'd forgotten how long it is around Martin's Cove and have never been in the middle of the day. Kaede drinks all of our water and rests at the top of the cove in the shade. I pause for a moment and try to imagine 1100 people laying underneath canvas from their tents and wish just for a moment that I could feel -10. At the top I realize Neil still has water and try to ration it between the 3 of us the rest of the way down.
Once I get back to cart parking I drink water like crazy, alternating water and gatorade. By crazy I mean 2 L. I keep drinking and feeling increasingly tired and hot. I don't know if my feet hurt because I don't care. The Women's Pull left me in tears, and I didn't even pull or push -- I promised myself I'd be kind to my back. We had 2 girl in rickshaws in our group and we got all 9 handcarts, 2 rickshaws up with "women can do hard things" pushing. At the top the guys were silent, hats removed out of respect with tears on many faces. Bishop Heap once again did an amazing job talking to our boys.
From the women's pull you can see camp in the distance. In camp is my bucket, shade from a tent, and food. Once we got to camp I sat down in the shade of the Bishop's tent. Dude continues to comment on how wonderful I don't look and has my every need taken care of by others. As the night goes on and I keep drinking and feeling worse I actually ended up with an IV laying in front of our tent--the point I started to get nauseated I knew that all the water I'd been drinking was not enough.
In a heartbeat I'd do the same thing again, give my water up for my children--any of us would. I knew it wouldn't be a long term problem. I can't imagine what it was like seeing kids going hungry knowing that you had to eat too, or you wouldn't survive. At one point rations were cut to 4 oz of flour for the day. There wasn't endless food just ahead like I had water, they had no idea where their next food would come from.
Fitbit: 23,000+ steps
Day 3: I spent in the visitors center at Rock Creek with a couple of youth not well enough to trek. Long day, lots of water, reading, and a flushing toilet. Tents were not set up because Dude and I thought we'd be hanging out with the non-trekkers at our camp site so we sent Neil on trek. The missionaries were confused about where we were camping and so there was nothing to do but hustle to get the tents up when everyone got to Rock Creek Hollow.
That night we camped at Rock Creek Hollow, had the most beautiful testimony meeting I've ever witnessed followed by strawberry shortcake.
Day 4: I refer to day 4 as "gratitude for Benson's day" The young beehives sang, clapped, laughed the entire way home. There was no rest, no sleeping, no quiet. The bus seats were comfortable for about 40 minutes until my back started to complain. We were all home, showered, and in bed by midnight.
Post-Trek: My backyard has been tent city since trek. The day we broke camp the tents were all very wet so we set them back up to dry them out and just as they'd get almost dry a thunderstorm would roll through. Tents are all down now, one still draped across to dry and we are back to "live as normal" I wish I knew how to keep the lessons learned during these glimpses into our past to help us re prioritize, strengthen our resolve but I don't.
Getting to the Salt Lake Valley was important to the pioneers so they could be sealed as a family in the Endowment House. Getting those temple blessings were so important to them that they gave all they had to have the opportunity and they were grateful for the experience. I hope my resolve and priorities can be as set as theirs.
~Heather
p.s. A few more pictures to come, but not many as we were electronics free and I didn't bring my camera.
I again missed much of Conference Saturday and Sunday, so I'm reading, pondering and studying bit by bit. The talks I did hear on Sunday I didn't make any notes during, so far from my standard. While reading Boyd K Packard's talk on fasting I realized how much work and progress I need to make in fasting. For years I had reasons not to fast. Pregnant, nursing, too hard when you have kids to feed and so reasons turned into excuses.
Then I had my big epiphany that wasn't about fasting at all. For decades I've sat through General Conference feeling inspired, uplifted, and spiritually fed but not once have I thought to set formal goals based on the inspiration received. This time I am going to write them down in the notes section of my Gospel library. Easy to link to the talk that prompted the goal and gather other references.
The first talk I read was President Thomas S Monson on Sunday morning. I loved this quote about temples. "Inside this sacred sanctuary, we find beauty and order. There is rest for our souls and a respite from the cares of our lives." On our quick trip to St George and back Neil and I took a few minutes to walk around the temple grounds. I truly do love to see the temple. I snapped this picture and have been test running apps for photos so I tinkered and came up with this--it's going in my note for goals too, if I can add pictures that is.
***This was suppose to be posted March 26, but as usual life got in the way***
I love spring, the flowers, my birthday, the hope of longer days after the short days of winter, Easter, picnics, yard work and sunshine. There is so much that is very renewing about Spring, it seems as if each day comes with it's own dose of hope. Some of my hardest things have start dates in Spring, some bitter to help me appreciate the sweet. Today I was sitting in the car thinking for a moment about not just Hard Things, but my very hardest of all the hard things and I realized how overwhelmingly grateful I am for the atonement. The rest of this post may seem vague, but it's intentionally vague. This isn't about how I dealt with my very specific Hard Things, it's about Hard Things in general. We all have them, they all look different, and what is hard to one person may be easy to their neighbor. This isn't about comparing my life to yours, or your neighbors, or your uncle's dog's breeder's neighbor who had something sort of similar (but not really) happen.
The opportunity the atonement gives to repent of sins and poor choices is invaluable and completely necessary for everyone. It's taught through various denominations of Christianity starting at very young ages. It's outlined in steps during Primary Sharing Times and Family Home Evenings and follows an easy format (easy in listing the steps, more difficult in applying the principle into your life)
Today I'm most grateful for the "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" from Matthew 11:30. It's less concrete to me, I've not found a list of steps to take to get that rest. In fact there have been times in my life when I've been doing everything I'm suppose to very well scriptures, prayer, pondering (lots and lots of pondering), attending Sunday meetings and carrying the Spirit with me throughout the week but the Savior didn't come and take my burdens away from me because I held onto them with all of my Erickson stubbornness. I benefited greatly from those habits and often felt at peace but things were still hard. I didn't see how to let go of my burdens and I was only dealing with Hard Things, not the smothering very hardest of all the hard things.
I don't know that there is a set format to turn over a heavy load to the Savior, but it is possible. It took time, patience, following some very specific advice, and lots of faith. I still had to do all the same things but the overwhelming weight of everything was gone, almost as if I'd grown stronger but I hadn't. I had learned to rely on the Savior and trust that everything was going to be okay -- whatever okay meant.
For that extra strength I am deeply grateful. That when my world was shattered I could still find up, I knew that somehow I could get through even if it took my entire life I could do it, for the ability to repent of all my mistakes and the knowledge that there is so much more to the atonement than I can understand at this point in my life.
The two second catch up. Wedding was absolutely perfect, I couldn't have asked for anything more. Married life has been amazing, Michael broke his arm and it's healing very nicely but he's missed basketball for the year, my back is slowly improving (ever so grateful for epidural injections!) Christmas came and went with all the typical magic, flu came with all it's fun and somewhere in there we ended up with a new year. I've missed blogging and hoping that things are settling a bit.
At work there is a quote up that says "a goal without a plan is just a wish" I think about at Girls Camp this year when we talked about maps and charting your course. Having a compass will give you the ability to stay the course, but only if you use it.
I've been very blessed this last year, in ways far beyond my dreams. I am completely happy and at peace and I want this to be my course not just a pathway I cross. I want to never lose the faith I've gained the last two years, the understanding and personal relationship I've built with the Savior, the realization of what my perfect life is (which is full of bills, chores, work, family, friends, obligations, and joy) and what it isn't (there isn't much easy in my perfect life). As I'm on this path I'm finding I'm becoming more of who I want to be. I'm more accepting, more grateful, happier, and hopefully more giving. It's hard for me to find a compass for these goals. When your goal is tied to something easily measurable like pounds lost, money saved, miles ran it's easier to find if you've fallen from your course.
On my short list of Priesthood blessings that have moved me the most are a few I've been present for as an RN. Something different happens when it's someone you only just met as a patient. It was that kind of day today. I'm also grateful that oh so very soon there will be a Priesthood leader in my home again. If I take a moment to be quiet and still I can already tell a difference.
Sorry no picture tonight, I'm exhausted and worn out -- plus I don't have one handy that will work.
It's not yet 10 am and I already have pictures (poor quality phone pics, but that's ok) for four days worth of gratitude. Maybe I can make it all the way through the month.
Today I am grateful for the strength of my testimony in the Gospel. Like the candlelight I used this morning when the power was out it has given me the ability to see enough to have hope during my darkest times and Hard Things. The days I felt completely isolated and was certain that night had the ability to swallow me up without anyone noticing I knew that Christ was aware of me and understood in a way that only He can. My testimony got me through that night, then the next few weeks hour by hour and sometimes breath by breath.
Like the candle light above, a testimony positioned properly can be magnified while one hidden and suffocated will die out. As a child my testimony mirrored my parents actions until it was strong enough to grow on it's own, I don't believe that scenario to be very unusual.
Earlier this year there was a Facebook post that asked "What do you want to teach your children the most?" I knew my answer before I even finished reading. I want them to know, to believe, to understand that I will always love them, no matter what. I wish the power of love from me was enough to provide my kids with a kind of bubble wrap that would guarantee they would never deal with trials, pain and Hard Things. I don't even know that my love really makes any kind of difference in the big scheme of things. It doesn't make math tests easier, school drama go away, or general teenager life change much. I'm still that weird Mom who wants to meet friends and get to know them, but they can usually count on me for a ride -- best way of getting to know them, they're trapped! It's easy to love friends, family, and especially your children.
Since my last post about the worth of souls being great I've been wondering, if I'm taking on the challenge to see the worth in the souls of those around me, how exactly am I suppose to do that? I'm great at thinking of good ideas without coming up with a way to accomplish the goal, but this time I think I've found my answer in John 13:4 where it says a new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. Okay, again it's easy to love friends and family, responding to their needs and spending time with them laughing, bonding, working. Let's not forget as I have loved you. Christ loves each one of us, individually not collectively. He showed that love through kindness and service and ultimately the greatest service that only He could provide in Gethsemane. I've been on the receiving end of some amazing service the past several years, and each one makes me choke up a little and realize that I am loved and have friends who care about me. I could spend a lifetime paying it forward, but this isn't a budget where a ledger is kept requiring a zero balance when all is said and done, fortunately.
I've written before of those who see the worth of souls, who do the things that many others can't, who help people look at themselves and recognize the worth there. These aren't random theoretical people, they have names, families, trials of their own but when I think of their willingness to serve others and to jump in and help people out I can't imagine that willingness to serve, often times from people that didn't initially know that is what I imagine loving one another with a Christ like love is and I am grateful for their example and especially their influence in my family's life. They serve those who need it, not those who they deem worthy and they serve without hesitation or judgement of one's situation. If one gets to pick their legacy, I want love to be mine--the action sort of love, not the emotion of romance novels.
Beginning of last week I could have easily broken into tears. I am the assistant camp director. You know, the one who just does stuff and knows that the totally awesome real camp director (aka Alisha) has all the i's dotted and t's crossed. Turns out she landed a job where she's going to be an awesome post-partum RN to some lucky Momma's in Vegas and her job starts the week before camp.
I was sad to lose a friend, especially before camp, but I've done Hard Things before, right? So I go about list making, from groceries to delegating to...wait, my back went out! Did I mention I'm also the camp nurse and can barely move? I couldn't imagine how, but I knew I needed to be at camp (partly because our girls couldn't go without any leaders) and partly because it just felt right that I was there. I've done Hard Things before--I have "Hard Things" down.
All of this boiled down to an overwhelmed exhausted hurting girl last Monday. My plan to not haul the trailer failed, then we had issues with lights, then, then, then...I wanted to sit and cry but didn't have time and doubted my ability to get back up if I did. So I changed my perspective and looked at it like Christmas Eve. Nothing is ever completely done, no matter how much or little you've done but December 25 comes along and some kind of magic takes over. Family, the money tree, and Christmas magic everywhere. I said a little prayer that there was such a thig as Girls Camp magic and believed in it with my whole being.
Monday afternoon looked a little like this.
See my family ever so carefully packing the trailer? Remember that trailer...
We load up everyone's pillows, sleeping bags, bedding, grub box in The Beast, camp "stuff" and YCL's, Jordon's and mine totes. Food, crafts, last minute inside craft things, mosquito netting and a tent/cot just in case these bunks and my back didn't get along. Really, who wouldn't love sleeping there?
Off we go (photo courtesy of Jordon) with me still believing in Girls Camp magic. In all the years I've been at camp for some reason or another I've never been in charge. You can't tell but it's pouring in this picture -- please let there be magic.
We go happily on our way, girls talking about anything and everything. We reach camp (still raining) and start up a steep hill and the trailer is open as in stuff falling out open. Without me knowing. Stuff like random ingredients, the spare tire, 1/2 of the craft stuff, ranch dressing, the list goes on and the door has been open a while Camp Magic? pshaw!
Guess what? Camp Magic does exist. With the exception of the spare tire nothing vital was lost and apparently I'm not suppose to feel bad about the tire. We made due, ward lunches were worth the time and energy, the YCL's absolutely shined as examples to the younger girls and had patience I've never seen from 16-17 year old girls before. Size wise we were teeny and were blown away at most of the games but if challenge points were awarded for work done we'd have won. While finishing up camp our tiny ward was the one to send girls to help clean up the amphitheater, kitchen, and pavilion. In work ethic, we shined.
There is also an amazing spirit at Girls Camp. I sit and reflect on what has gotten me through so many of my Hard Things and it comes back to Girls Camp and Seminary -- and that mustard seed of faith. I wish every parent of our girls who ever wondered if they were doing anything right ( who doesn't at times?) could experience Girls Camp. Your girls testimonies are strong, their character amazing, their trials are many and just like clean up and prep duties they are shouldering them well.
Stress, freak outs, lost tires, and worries aside I'd go again in a heart beat. I love our little Young Women's group, their faith, their honest, their humor, their snipe hunting abilities and willingness to get bitten just to show the younger girls what a snipe is. I also learned to se the humor in hashtags instead of just being annoyed.
Be proud of our youth, they are amazing and yes Camp Magic exists.
Early this year we had the FHE, the kind my mind says they all should be. I didn't exactly plan it, it just sort of fell together. I believe sometime I blogged about ice cream. If I can't find it I will write it tomorrow.
Anyways my current goal for scripture time as a family is the habit, the routine, it just being what we do. It's entertaining at times when Kaede reads in voices, gives things a dramatic flare, or breaks into corresponding Primary songs. We lost some momentum during 2nd Nephi but we made it -- including discussions on why Isiah is important to read even though it's hard to understand sometimes. Charlet noticed the beautiful imagery on her own. I am grateful for the knowledge that stories lie ahead.
Family scripture time is hard though, almost always and the blessings linked to it aren't as obvious and straightforward as some. Rounding everyone up during the chaos of the evening and getting minds focused on scriptures instead of bike riding, hummingbirds at the feeder, whether the turtles have been fed and if I charted that last pain assessment or not is challenging and sometimes comical. It's a priority for me though even when I have to remind myself that it's important even when I have no glorious a-ha moments of gospel truths that like I do during personal study. Mostly this post is to remind me of that priority. If I write it down it's more solid, more concrete.
This quote says nothing about it being easy to gather everyone or that blessings come immediately. It also doesn't discuss anything about only immediate families. Grandma and Grandpa were reading 'with' us, on their own time at their own pace 50 miles north.
“I promise you that daily family prayer and scripture study will build within the walls of your home a security and bonding that will enrich your lives and prepare your families to meet the challenges of today and the eternities to come” (L. Tom Perry, in Conference Report, Apr. 1993, 113; or Ensign, May 1993, 92).
In that ice cream FHE we also discussed that statements like those from one of the Apostles isn't just random words thrown together in a statement but that it's a binding promise that The Lord won't break if we do our part.
This is another of my favorite quotes on family scripture study.
“When individual members and families immerse themselves in the scriptures regularly and consistently, … other areas of activity will automatically come. Testimonies will increase. Commitment will be strengthened. Families will be fortified. Personal revelation will flow” (Ezra Taft Benson, “The Power of the Word,” Ensign,May 1986, 81).
I worked both Saturday and Sunday nights a few weeks ago without a good nap Saturday which leads to missing church 99% of the time. I always try to make up for it through a talk or perhaps topical study. Yesterday as I was doing dishes and some reflective thinking my mind wandered to prayer, largely in part from a conversation with a friend.
As I was thinking about my very hardest Hard Things I've struggled through often feeling disappointed that if my prayers had been answered then I wouldn't have needed to experience the trial following my prayers and pleading. Today I realized that the Hard Things have been the answers to my faithful prayers. I am trying to think of an example that is shareable and everything coming to mind is too close to my heart for me to throw around the online world but I keep thinking of the story "Is Your Hut on Fire"
A man was shipwrecked on a deserted island by himself. He began praying to be rescued and began gathering food and building a shelter. After a few days he has a hut built and a spear. He goes in search of food and while he is gone he notices smoke from the area of his camp. When he gets close enough he sees his hut is on fire and becomes angry and frustrated. He had done everything in his power to survive and now this??? Why wasn't his prayer answered? The next morning he wakes to the sound of a ship that rescued him. He asked the ship's captain how he knew anyone was on the island and the captain replied "we saw your smoke signal"
My hut has been on fire, and in the midst of the fire all I could see were flames and felt discouraged, weak, and down but the Hard Things, my fires, have all been the answer to my most sincere prayers.
The one constant of motherhood I've seen since before I had kids has been the vicious circle of judgement and comparing. I remember thinking of how things were suppose to be, not just for me but how things should just work. For everyone.
Best picture I've seen in a long time!
I've learned more bit by bit and when Michael was a baby I realized that those I still felt a little judgmental towards once I'd take the time to listen to their story I understood why they made the choices they did and the judgment dissolved away. Most of my "this is the right way" thinking went out the window at high speeds when I had Charlet. I can't think of anything I said starting with "I will never" or "my kids won't" that hasn't come back around to bite me. Life isn't perfect and nothing follows plans how one hopes they will.
The past few days I've noticed or heard of several Mom's having to defend their choice to stay at home to either society in general, neighbors, strangers who feel it appropriate to comment on others parenting choices, and online social networking. It makes me sad that judgments are thrown around in all directions. Women who plan on staying at home and rearing their children are told that the college education they are working hard at is a waste of time since they just want to stay at home. Someone with an in demand degree makes the choice to stay at home or work a job that the hours are better for their family life is throwing that knowledge away demeans the hard work and value, financial and family, of having a mom be home with the children.
The infinite list of people who tell me {yes, this one is personal} "I know you are busy but if you just XYZ for 15-20 minutes a night then this one small aspect will improve and be wonderful!" then my mind hears some sarcastic comment that I hopefully manage to keep inside. It's like an eternal list of ways and reasons I'm not perfect and never will be because 15-20 minutes X 3 kids X endless number of XYZ items + full time job + housework = impossible. Stay at home moms who on frustrating days of teething babies and answering "why?" every 45 seconds telling their neighbor that they wish they could go to work but they love their children too much to leave them with a babysitter to raise them because children need their mothers makes it easy to feel like anyone who does work and leaves kids with a babysitter doesn't love their kids as much.
Then there are people like where I use to be. Generalized situation, this parenting choice is best regardless. At least until certain situations come around and then it's acceptable but you are still settling for less than ideal and who doesn't want ideal for their family? I was once informed by a local busy body that it's okay that I work since I "have to" followed up with a poor Heather sigh. Yes right now I have to work, most single parents don't have a choice. Some days I sit in my car before I clock in worrying about how the kids are doing or cry about missing a treasured event or feel guilty when I look at the clock and realize it's 5 pm and I haven't talked to any of the kids after school because we've been busy but my phone shows several missed calls from them. Other nights I go to sleep grateful I get to come to work in the morning because that day at home with the kids was long, hard, and I want a break.
I wonder if the self judging that mothers around the globe seem to excel at is more damaging than the judging from neighbors and society. They are definitely interconnected and I wish that moms could go to sleep at night confident they had done their best and everything is going to work out just fine. In my dream world that is the one thing I would change instead of dragging ourselves and others down we could support each other in our choices. Whether it's working or staying at home, keeping kids' time unscheduled and free or signing them up for multiple activities, bottle or breastfeeding, or small decisions like taking time to talk and watch the sunset instead of having a perfect reading record and laundry all done.
With that I'll step off my soapbox and hope for the next 90 minutes to hurry past so I can go home and sleep.
Tonight as I lay not sleeping I can't help but feel overwhelming gratitude, not so much for my Hard Things but for the perspective and growth I've received. My heart is full tonight and I have no one to share it with except for you.
I went for a short, slow walk today in the cold and wind. It wasn't an enjoyable walk by any means but along the way I took this picture.
Tree blossoms
The walk sucked, but this moment, this phone picture was worth it.
I don't know how long the feeling will last, but for now I can clearly see that my Hard Things will be worth it (eventually) provided I can hold tight to the truths I know. As hard as it is to think about and hope for my timing to match up with God's timing tonight I will be patient. Instead of sharing my thoughts and feelings with a best friend I will share it on my blog (sorry for the rambling and side roads)
A new favorite scripture is Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. (Luke 22:42) I've never had a cup I've wanted removed as much as I do now, but I know when I choose to follow the Lord's will things turn out better than is possible for me to imagine. Nevertheless, not my will but thine. I pray for the guidance to know what that will is and for the strength and courage to continue and the perspective needed to remain grateful.
I'm stealing this from another post floating around Facebook that I can't find anymore to give it credit. I loved the basis for the article and the content wasn't necessarily wrong -- it just was different from my experiences and I want something a little more personal.
Music heals the soul.Music can reach deep enough that words alone can't go. Into the depth of your soul where it is hard to let anything in. Let it move you, strengthen you, make you smile. I have minimal musical talent. I can't even play chopsticks on the piano, couldn't carry a tune in a bucket if my life depended on it. I have no sense of rhythm and can't even dance (I love to try, I'm just prepared to laugh at myself). I love music though, I even enjoy watching people who enjoy sharing their talent. My musical talent is letting music into my soul. I have a playlist for when I'm not certain I can even get up out of bed because everything seems so impossible. The opening chords to the first song start to lift my spirits before and words are even spoken.
Listen to your body. There is only so much stress and Hard Things your body can handle before it starts struggling. A vague stomach ache, shingles, immune system not being up to par. Listen before it gets to that point because shingles seriously suck, help nothing and just make everything more miserable.
Want to know how to listen? That is harder for to describe but find a quiet place, I prefer on a grassy hill in the sunshine but it is February in Utah so I take what's available and comfortable. I clear my mind (this part took a lot of practice and still can take sometime) and pay attention to what I'm feeling. Is the grass tickling to my legs? There's a smooth rock under my shoulder, the sun is warm on my face, my neck is tense, I can smell spring flowers (or maybe the stink from the trash truck is blowing towards you). When I first started I'd run through all the senses systematically and it helped teach me. My body knows before I do when I'm not doing okay, but sometimes it has to yell at me because I forget to take the time to listen. Also, be good to your body. Eat well, exercise a little everyday (walking is my choice), get enough sleep, if your physician has prescribed meds take them. You want your body on your side while tackling whatever Hard Thing you are battling now or may lie ahead. Faith. "If the foundation of faith is not embedded in our hearts, the power to endure will crumble." Henry B. Eyring The morning after the most difficult night of my life I felt as if nothing around me were true. All the facts I'd learned in school. Yes, the sky is still blue. The floor is still under me so gravity must work. I went through in the quiet before the kids woke reorienting myself to my life. I can't say I awoke because I didn't sleep but when I was pulled out of my daze by a phone call checking on me the only thing I knew is that Christ still loved me. Knowledge was temporarily lost, but faith sung about in Primary rooms every Sunday was with me. I believe my faith in Christ's love for me was stronger that morning than it ever was before or since. I've since come to learn that faith isn't just a passive emotion or concept described by philosophers and religions but it is an action word. My faith isn't something that I can describe to others how I feel but something I show by my actions. It doesn't take large amounts of faith to begin, just the "particle of faith" spoken of in Alma. My faith isn't what I believe in, it is who I am. Above is a description of my faith and what pulled me through my darkest days one hour at a time, everyone's faith is going to be stronger in different areas or different doctrine completely and that's okay. Faith can be character strengthening. Discover your friends. I've not found anything that clarifies a friendship as much as a difficult trial and ongoing struggles. I've redefined friends in my mind, only distinguished by punctuation or mental notes. There are "friends" which wouldn't be inappropriate to use air quotes around with the exception of it isn't kind. These are the people that I'm friendly with whether out of obligation of work, location, kids in the same activities etc. They seem to come and go with staffing changes, seasonal activities ending, or moving much like a dandelion gone to seed in the wind. I know I listed coworkers here so I feel I should note that currently my coworkers aren't just "friends" Working in a small department in a small hospital you can form unique bonds over generally unpleasant tasks. I have worked places where my coworkers were "friends" but not now -- perhaps I need to come up with a difference for my current work buddies. Then there are friends. Webster dictionary type friends who you hang out with, have interests in common, share activities etc. You enjoy each others company and get along well. The discovery part comes when you realize you need friends. You may or may not do many social things with friends but without a doubt you know they are there when you need them. Then you realize that they're there when you didn't realize you need them -- they know you so well that they knew what you needed before you did. You don't care if they see you when your dishes are undone or you've just rolled out of bed. Friends are willing to get down in the muck of hard things are help you through. I think of mine as angels walking around disguised as humans and I count them among my most valued treasures.
Not just your standard lets start this meeting or pray before we eat, but what I've referred to as Enos prayers.
Listening to Conference in April I couldn't focus on much else besides the highlighted portion. To a single Mom who is frustrated about the lack of Priesthood in the home, even with it only being a phone call away that blurb was heaven sent. Lately it's been easy to tell the difference between standard prayer and a sincere talking to God prayer. The difference isn't always what words are spoken but in my heart.
Nothing of amazing miracles has changed in my life, if anything things have gotten a little more complicated since yesterday. Today was the kind of day that is the reason that Sunday's are my favorite day of the week. I feel emotionally and spiritually tanked up, and even if it is just the calm before the storm today was overflowing with peace. I'm remembering in my heart, not just my head how profound of a feeling peace can be if we allow it into our lives.
I value today from before I got up out of bed likely until I fall asleep tonight for how much hope it has brought to me. I know that mountain is still before me, but I can do this. I've climbed mountains before, more alone than I am now. I may not know this particular mountain well but I've surrounded myself with support and I have faith in those leading me along this trail. I still have to climb this mountain by myself but I have a cheering section that I trust implicitly.
I don't know how to adequately describe how grateful I am for today, it may not have brought miraculous circumstance changes but it has been a tender mercy that was desperately needed. Phone calls brought reassurance, talking with strangers brought peace and hope, a walk with the kids let me crunch through fallen leaves and soak in one more day of sunshine before winter darkness arrives. Somehow the caramel cheesecake belongs in here too, it was wonderful.
I remember now why I worked every Saturday for over a year, it's because there was a time that every, or at least most, Sunday's were like this. No matter how I felt going in, coming out on the other side of Sunday was significantly better and usually lasted close to 7 days if I worked hard at it.
I worked all day for Sunday last week, missing once again Conference talks. Fortunately I was able to download them to my phone so I could listen to them on Monday's long ride home alone. I need to listen to them again because regardless of the topic I kept coming back to the story in Henry B Eyring's talk about the Grandmother going to see her grandson in prison wondering her own version of why me? Her answer was “I gave him to you because I knew you could and would love him no matter what he did.” Not so shockingly I bawled enough I probably should have pulled over coming down the canyon on I-70.
The rest of the way home I kept thinking of this, from different perspectives.
The obvious that Heavenly Father loves each and everyone of us. Not just at the times we are doing well, but all the time. When we are struggling, when we've stumbled then tripped and it feels like we can't get up, when we question, doubt, and don't believe we are loved. If I project my feelings as a parent I believe that those times we are loved even more.
I don't believe that love is only an emotion. The bigger definition is as an action and the overall way that an individual treats those they love. As part of God's love for us He ensures that there are people around us who love us, no matter what.
I've been in a place where I pushed all of that support away and it was dark, cold and very lonely. Looking backwards, it was my fault. Some of the same people who are there for me now I realized I've pushed away in the past. The good news is the people that were put into my life are also patient and forgiving.
I also wonder if there is more power in love than I realize. Sure it makes one happy and can bring hope and relief while not realizing that one is loved is discouraging and lonely. I know that much, but I wonder how much stronger of a force love is, and if we will ever realize it.
I don't know how many times since Paul and I separated and especially the last year I've wondered why I have to go through this alone. What "this" is has varied from spring cleaning to shouldering major trials. Today I realized I'm not who I use to be.
Over the last few years I've discovered my individual worth, uncovered strength buried so deep it was virtually impossible to find and been humbled far beyond what was comfortable. I've made mistakes and stood strong when I felt like crumbling. I've crumbled and had help picking up the pieces. I'm not through this yet and have started to wondered if there is such a thing and being done with a trial.
I have grown in ways I never imagined possible. I've learned that sometimes I need thee every hour isn't often enough. Prayer can get one through anything. Faith can do more than move mountains, it can give hope in the middle of the darkest night. A well timed phone call is better than the strongest medicine and true friends are priceless.
The old me could say those things but the new me believes them with every breath I take.
I do get weary dealing with life alone, but alone is what has forced me to grow and for that I am deeply grateful. I've had to deal with this alone so I can become the me I'm meant to be.
If at some point there are lessons for me to learn not being alone I would be okay with that too, this path is often lonely.
Usually when I'm reading scriptures I study by topic using Ensign, Conference Talks, a few select books by General Authorities (okay, pretty much just Finding Peace, Happiness, and Joy). It's not unusual to start with a Conference talk and work from there.
Every few years I read beginning to end, starting last Sunday and each time I find a new theme standing out which follows through to the end. It's still studying by topic, its just that the topic finds me this way.
This go around? Obedience due to ones own faith leading to increased strength as needed for whatever it is that needs to be accomplished. Nephi being physically strong still needed additional strength to stop Zoram, and he received what was needed.
