A Quick Thought: Our Song

"Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" has always held a special place in my heart.  If you can have an "our song" with deity, that is mine.  So many times, that song comes on and I immediately know how much I am loved and, frequently, revelation just starts to flow.  (Hmmm...maybe I should listen to it more often.)  There is a very distinct moment on my mission when it came on.  I vividly remember the way the leaves were blowing around the freeway as we got off on the Hopkins Road exit in Richmond, VA.  That morning, I'd been struggling to know where I should go and what I should do after my mission.  (You may recall that, when I decided to serve, I didn't have family support and I really didn't have a "home."  I hadn't lived where I grew up in over 7 years and would have no reason to go back to where I was living at the time in Rochester, NY.)  I wondered if I was a competent missionary and was doing what the Lord would have me do.  In that moment, listening to that song, I knew it would be ok and the spirit helped me to know that I was exactly where I was supposed to be - it had been foreseen, though not be me.  I was supposed to be in that green Chevy Malibu getting on Hopkins Road to visit Enrique and Suzy.  I had the thought, "Tell me, Lord, how could you have known for so long that I would be here in this place?  One year ago I wouldn't have guessed it and two years ago I knew nothing of the church."  The answer came, "Anne, I know you and I know your heart.  I knew that your heart would lead you to this place because it is where I need you to be.  I knew that you would make the choices that would allow you to become an instrument in my hands."

As we walked into church today, I saw my friend, Trina, and she had a copy of the music for this song in her hand.  With hope in my voice, I asked if she would be singing that song today.  She confirmed that she was.  I told her it was my favorite and I was excited to hear it and went and found my seat.

My boys were particularly cuddly today and were each trying to claim a spot leaning on me.  It felt good.  I felt loved.  We listened to the speakers and then Trina got up to sing.  As the music started, I was brought back to that moment in Virginia when my station in life, my path at the time and my competency in that path, was confirmed.  Lately, my friends, I'll be honest and say that I have really been struggling with feeling competent - at just about anything.  I've been feeling that everything I try seems to fail in one way or another and I've wondered if I am in the right place, if I am doing the right things, how I am blessed with these great little boys and an amazing husband that sometimes I take for granted, am I messing things up and limiting the progress of my kids by decisions I make.  But, sitting there today, listening to that familiar hymn and holding those two amazing boys, the Spirit washed over me.  Again, it let me know that I am exactly where I was supposed to be.  Again, it had been foreseen, though not by me.  Those boys need me as their mom - not any of the other "super mom" friends that I have.  Me.  They need me, my flaws and my awesome strengths to raise them to be what the Lord would have them be.  I am exactly where the Lord needs me right now.  And, oh how I needed that confirmation.

I am grateful for inspired musical numbers (even if she had just sung the same song a few months ago).  I am grateful for having an "Our Song" with the Holy Ghost.  Maybe I really should listen to it more often.

Primary

A little less than 3 years ago, a member of our Bishopric came and told me that Sister (Jessica) was going to be the new Primary President and she would like me to be a counselor.  Jessica and I had a number of mutual friends but had only had limited interactions.  The week before, I'd told Doug that she seemed pretty cool and I'd like to get to know her better.  *Poof!  Wish granted!*  Having joined the church when I was in my 20's, I had never even attended Primary but knowing that Jessica was going to be the president helped me to feel at ease and that she'd be patient with me as I learned the ropes.

Heading to church the next Sunday, I wondered who the other counselor would be.  Sister (Jessa) was called.  All I knew of Jessa was that she was new to the ward, her husband seems like a great dad to their cute little girl and, when we sat in front of them one Sunday, I noticed she had a pretty singing voice.

Little did I know the multiple ways that this calling would change me.

First, when I started in Primary, LJ was in Nursery and now he is a strapping CTR5.  I always felt spoiled as a mom getting to watch my own kid's testimony grow and grow during Primary lessons.  The Lion was in nursery the majority of the time and just came up to Sunbeams in January but I did get a few extra peeks in on him in nursery.

Second, I learned to trust the Holy Ghost when it comes to teaching children.  The week I was called, I'd used the term counter-intuitive with my 2 and a half year old.  (I was explaining how to pull nails out using a hammer.)  I never did much babysitting and knew that talking with and teaching kids wasn't my strong suit.  (See paragraph 2.)  Thank heavens, (literally), that I could be guided to know how best to present the information from the Sharing Time lessons.  There were multiple times that I had a very random idea pop into my head as I prepared lessons.  Three, in particular, stand out in my mind as being strongly directed by another force with greater understanding of how to teach children.

1. The lesson was about what it meant to have a testimony of the Savior.  As I prepared, I felt prompted to leave a significant amount of time at the end of the lesson for the children to bear their testimonies.  I was hesitant about giving that much autonomy to the kids.  It could go well or it could crash and burn.  As it turned out, it was one of my favorite lessons and I still remember how I felt as I listened to the sweet testimonies of the young kids.  And, it inspired us to add an assignment for a child to share their testimony as part of the closing exercises.  It has been fun to watch them grow in their testimonies and better learn how to articulate their thoughts.
2. For the second, I don't remember exactly what the lesson was about but I ended up incorporating Mosiah 18 and in particular verses 8 - 10.  We would frequently use this passage to commit people to baptism while on my mission.  I had the impression that I should do a role play in senior primary with one of them acting as my mission companion and two others acting as investigators.  I rebelled against the idea because I didn't think they would be ready for it.  Again, I was surprised by the faith and their ability.  We read 3 verses at a time.  The trick is to have it so that one of the investigators read verses 7 - 9.  The verses conclude with the words, And it came to pass that he said unto them: Behold, here are the waters of Mormon (for thus were they called) and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life—  We would then ask the investigator if they wanted those things.  They would usually say they did and then we would invite them to read verse 10 which says, Now I say unto you, if this be the desire of your hearts, what have you against being baptized in the name of the Lord, as a witness before him that ye have entered into a covenant with him, that ye will serve him and keep his commandments, that he may pour out his Spirit more abundantly upon you?  These young kids grasp gospel concepts so well and will be amazing missionaries.  I was grateful for this opportunity to see them in action in a missionary sense and also to show them some of the skills that come in handy as a missionary.
3. The last one was actually my very last Sharing Time lesson.  The lesson was on the atonement, which is always tricky to try to explain to children.  I searched for ways to do it and found a few cute little games.  However, I kept coming back to a talk by Elder Holland which was directed towards an audience of religious educators.  It was a very heavy talk but had some great insights into the atonement.  I also felt directed to include some of the messages from Preach My Gospel as well as some personal stories.  It seemed the lesson was going to consist of a lot of talking on my part and not much interaction with the kids.  I worried about this and my ability to hold their attention without using numerous games and object lessons.  But, I felt strongly that I needed to give the lesson as directed.  Since I knew I wasn't going to be doing the teaching, I decided to follow Elder Bednar's lead and start the lesson by talking about how I prayed the Holy Ghost would be with us and teach us, (and I asked the kids to say a prayer for the same thing).  I'm not sure about anyone else, but I learned a lot about the atonement in preparation and during the lesson.  (I hope to do a specific blog entry about it so I have it saved for my boys.)

Third, I was able to see the law of consecration first-hand.  The amount of time, effort, resources and love used to teach our children was unbelievable.  We had some of the best teachers and they were so dedicated to their callings as leadership or teachers or scouts or music (or a combination of all of those).  A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in the back of the room with our soon-to-be-departing bishop and he said something along the lines of, "Can you believe that all these people do all of this for free?"  It truly is amazing the service that is provided in our church.

Fourth, I made friendships that changed my life.  Of the countless teachers, the 4 secretaries, the 2 counselors, the multiple choristers and pianists, there were very few that I knew well before our association in Primary and I am not sure I would've gotten to know them otherwise.  I have gained a network of people that have helped shape me in many facets of life.  From trivial things like makeup and hair advice to deep doctrinal conversations, I have found multiple resources that provide answers.  Not to mention the fact, that Jessica's oldest daughter has become the boys' absolute favorite babysitter and I have no idea how we would get through these crazy months of Doug's rotations and me working without her help.

This was definitely one of those times that by simply accepting a calling, I opened the door to countless other blessings.  I truly believe that callings are as much for us as they are for those we will serve.  It is like allowing the Lord to place you in certain circumstances that will help form you into who he would have you become.

Cabin Memories on Pokegama

**For a blog that doesn't have many pictures, this will fulfill my picture quota for quite some time!**

I grew up in Northern Minnesota.  In the 1950's my grandparents purchased a large plot of land along Lake Pokegama in Grand Rapids.  Despite the numerous lakes in the vicinity, Pokegama was known as "the lake".  When I was little, (and needed speech therapy), I would always say, "Let's go to the wake!  I want to go to the wake!"  And I am certain that I spoke the truth.  I loved it there.  I still do.  It was always a place of solace and refuge.  We spent a lot of time there before my parents divorced when I was 7.  After that, I was there frequently since it became my dad's home.  There was a cabin and from that about 1000 feet of lake-shore going down to a sandy point that wrapped around to a cove.  

(We found baby snapping turtles in abandoned eggs down in The Cove when I was in 5th Grade.  Assuming they were dead and would make a great "show and tell," my dad put them in his coat pocket.  They must have just been cold because, once they warmed up, they started moving around.  We named them Jeff and Julie and they did make an even more amazing "show and tell" at school.)

This Friday, (which happens to be my birthday), the cabin will be sold.  (We are also selling our SLC condo this week so I guess it is the season to clean out extra properties or something.)  It is bittersweet.  The Lion has never had the opportunity to go there and part of me wants to jet off to MN just so he can.

I have so many memories of The Cabin.

Testing out the water with Dad.

Relaxing on the dock with Mom

Spending some quality time with Grandma.  (I love that she wore a flower in the her hair.  I will never, ever be as stylish as her or get as tan as she did.)

Practicing my boating skills.

Getting in one last walk with Grandma before she headed to Florida for the winter.

As I got older, there were more and more things to enjoy - knee-boarding, fishing, swimming, paddle-boating down to Snapping Turtle Cove, seeing how much rocking it would take to flip the paddle-boat over (and try not to capsize it), feeding chipmunks, (including my "pet" Short Tail), trying to chase seagulls while driving the boat, seeing who could crank up the boat ramp faster, football and baseball with my dad, camping, snorkeling and looking for fish and minnows, timing Dad as he tried to swim the butterfly between the docks (a distance of about 350 ft).  (FYI - My dad is amazing!)

Dad standing in awe of my rock skipping skills!  We'd have # of skips contests multiple times a day.

Sometimes, I would just lie on my back, listen to the birds and stare through the trees.  (It was usually after some crazy diving catch when we'd play football and I needed to catch my breath.)  It was so peaceful and quiet, away from the world.

 In the winter, we would have contests where we would throw rocks out on to the ice and see who could throw it the furthest.  In the spring, this changed to throwing the rock as high as possible so that it could build up momentum, the goal being to break through the ice.  When the lake was frozen and there wasn't snow, we could skate all along the shoreline.  If there was snow, my dad would shovel off a rink.  I would skate and we'd play hockey for a short time and then head in for cocoa.  Looking back, he must have really loved me to spend an hour shoveling just for 20 minutes of skating.  (Again, my dad is a amazing!)  When the weather was bad, we'd play hockey in the house.  (I hope Grandma can't read blog posts in heaven...)  Sometimes, we'd go for walks around the property line, which was pretty extensive.  It was fun hiking over and through obstacles.  I remember Dad's boot breaking through the ice in The Cove and he kept trudging on.  One time we got lost on the snowmobile and it took forever to get home.

Sometimes, we'd go to the neighbor's fish house and watch the fish swimming through the hole.  Frozen lakes are quiet but loud.  It'll be eerily quiet and then the ice will crack, sometimes forming large ridges (which we would hope and pray no snowmobilers would hit although sometimes they did and it had grave results).  When the ice finally started to melt, (and sometimes it felt like July by the time the lake cleared), we'd take the paddle-boat out and whack at the ice with the oars.  I really felt that I was helping to get the ice off the water by breaking it up.

No idea what I'm doing but I sure look happy for it being 40 below zero. 

The house next door (through a little trail in the woods) was a vacation rental so provided a revolving door of new friends each week.  I would wait anxiously to see who it was (and as I got older, if there were any cute boys).  Then I would need to plot how to introduce myself and make a friend.  I was grateful when there were return guests that took all of the anxiety out of the situation.  It was always an adventure and opportunity to meet all sorts of people.  I'm not sure if I would do that nowadays and that is sad whether it is due to society's influence or my own social apprehensions.

Check out that monster of a fish!

I think the garage was officially 5 stalls.  It may very well be bigger than the cabin.  It was filled to capacity with random tools.  (My grandfather thought himself a craftsman - although I don't think he was very good since Grandma didn't even trust him to cut down a tree correctly without her wearing a hard hat which she kept near the kitchen.)  My dad collected old cars - a 38 Ford Coupe and a 37 Ford Pickup.  (Dad, correct me in the comments, if needed.)  My uncle had an old Chris Craft wooden boat (that always reminds me of "On Golden Pond").  The garage always seemed full.  Poor Dad has been trying to go through it all in preparation for the sale.  (Let's say it one more time, "My dad is amazing!")  Here is LJ trying out the riding mower.  That orange helmet in the back was mine when I was little and we'd go for rides on the mo-ped or the snow mobile.

LJ's first trip to the cabin was a little chilly to get out on the water so we explored the garage.

Inside the cabin, you could find all sorts of gems.  It was filled with paintings that my grandmother had done.  She loved reading and puzzles (as do I) and so there was no shortage of books, puzzles and games.  

The TV, however, did not work very well.  I would complain about being bored and she would give me a gentle lecture on being productive and pull out a project.  (There was a kiln - or maybe two - in the garage.)  We would do pottery, crimp art, draw, work on my, (in her opinion), bad penmanship, and go for walks around "the loop".  (The road where the cabin is situated loops around onto another road.  It was my first version of doing a 5k.  Grandma liked to do it at least once a day.)  She bought me some personalized stationary and taught me the art of letter-writing.  Our lunch was always "Sandwich Buffet" and, if we cleaned our plate, (that rule went for Dad too), we could have two cookies.  Dinner was always followed by a scoop of ice cream with some homemade chocolate sauce while we played a game - usual Royal Rummy.

It is my memories of time with her that are one of the toughest things about not being able to go back there.  I can sit on the porch and hear her laugh.  I can go in the bedroom and am instantly brought back to listening to her and my dad play scrabble while I fell asleep.  I feel closest to her there.  I do not know if she ever knew the amount of influence she had on me.  I would not be who I am if it were not for her and she is one of the most amazing and intelligent people I have ever met.  (Both of my grandmothers were extraordinary.  I'm a lucky girl.)  

This picture is (obviously) not taken at the cabin but I love it.

Plus, she raised this guy to be one of the best men that I know.

As I mentioned, The Lion never made a trip but LJ did.  I was grateful he got to experience some of the things on the list of must-do's at The Cabin.

He did a much better job at paying attention than I did when I was his age.

I see this picture and think "Home".  I think that is our property in the background going down to the point.  The tallest tree that you can see has had an eagle's nest in it for years.  It was right in the middle of the yard.

Walking through the woods down to the point.

He just jumped in the water as soon as he saw it.  The water was a bit high which is why he got to witness the below picture.

Grandpa Jack doing his best to act like Peter.

You may have noticed a "My dad is amazing" theme throughout this post.  But that is just because it is true.  As much as I associate The Cabin with my grandmother, it is 1000 times more that I think of him and memories of him.  I have mentioned before that my childhood was, at times, less than ideal.  But time with him, out at the cabin, always gave me time to reflect and put things into perspective.  It was my temple.  It was my mountain.  (Note to God:  If there is a "Sherry's Arm Road" in heaven, I call dibs!)

A quiet moment with Dad down by The Cove near where Grandma and Grandpa's ashes are scattered.

I wonder how many times we made this walk together and how many different topics were covered as we meandered along.  (He was always good about wearing blaze orange in the fall when it was hunting season.)

I'm so proud to call him my dad.

I have always been (and always will be) a "Daddy's Girl".

Mealtime Musings

A couple of days ago, we sat down for breakfast and LJ asked me to say the opening prayer.  I asked Doug who he would like to say the prayer and he said that was fine.  At the end of the prayer, we opened our eyes to find LJ wiping tears from his eyes.  For the record, he does not cry (outside of power struggles) often.  I don't know if I've ever seen him cry in that type of situation where his feelings were hurt.  Being a mom, my eyes started to get moist and I asked him what was wrong.  He whimpered, "When do I get to pick who says the prayer?"  It led to a great conversation about the Priesthood and the role of presiding.  Since it was Monday, (oh, look at that, it was yesterday not "a couple of days ago"), John and I worked on the FHE lesson.  As we did so, we talked again about what the role is to preside and how it a blessing that Doug is able to do that for our family and guide us in that manner.

As for the Lion, he seems to be really in tune with me lately.  We just sort of understand each other.  A sweet moment happened last week during mealtime.  I caught his eye and, as we were looking at each other, I started marveling about how he is just so "me".  He looks a lot like me when I was young and we have some of the same mannerisms  I was just thinking, "Man, I love this boy!"  Right as I had the thought, he smiled at me and said, "Mom, kiss me!"  He climbed down and came over so I could give him a kiss on the forehead.  Nothing like that had happened before and I felt like maybe he was really able to tell what I was thinking (and that he maybe loves me as much as I love him).

Calming Storms

Here is my conversation with LJ on the way to church this morning.

LJ:  Mom, I noticed something about Jesus.
Mom:  Oh yeah, what did you notice?
LJ:  I noticed that you can't see him but you can feel him in your heart.
Mom:  That's right.  How does he make you feel.
LJ:  He makes you feel loving.
(We'd had a "torment your brother morning" so I decided to toss in the following.)
Mom:  Sometimes it is hard to feel him if we are mad or being mean.
LJ:  But you still feel him.  When you are angry it is like there is a little storm inside of you and Jesus can calm the storm.  I learned that from my father!

I guess it was one of those days where I was the one being taught.  Love this little boy!  I hope he always has that understanding that Jesus can help you get through any emotion and that, if you let him, you can always feel him in your heart.

Then, to make up for all the tormenting earlier, he insisted on serving The Lion multiple glasses full of water during our evening treat.  We told him that we were grateful for all the serving but he really needed to stay in his seat.  He responded, "I'm busy serving my best friend!"

As far as that best friend, this morning Doug was already at church meetings and LJ was still asleep so I brought The Lion into our room and just snuggled with him.  He has always been a snuggler and I'm sad that one day he will surely grow out of it.  Today, I whispered to him, "I love you" and in his little voice he said, "Love you too, Mom."

Oh, it was a good day.  I'll take another one for tomorrow.

I'm Not Ignoring You

The Lion is sick right now.  Nothing serious but he has a fever and some patches of hives.  (If it is serious, and I'm oblivious, and you know better, let me know!)  The itchy hives are making it tough for him to sleep.  We were up quite a bit with him last night and he's been whimpering a lot tonight already.  Last night, I tried to get him to sleep on the couch with me.  I thought, "He's so clingy that maybe if I get him to just snuggle, he'll calm down and fall asleep."  Poor guy did not stop moving!  He was just rubbing his feet together, trying to scratch the hives on his ankles.  I finally gave up and decided to put him back in bed, knowing that being with me wasn't helping him sleep and he would hopefully be better off in his own bed.  Having learned my lesson last night, the plan for tonight is to just let him be, to let him get over it and go back to sleep on his own because my intervention only proves a distraction and doesn't help him get to sleep.

However, in his mind, I am certain, he is saying "Dudes!  I don't feel good!  Why is no one coming to hug me when I'm sad!? ... ... ... Hello!?  Is anyone there?  Does someone care about me?  ... ... ... I don't feel good!"

How often have we been in a similar situation with our Heavenly Father?  I imagine it a bit like trying to wave down a rescue plane.

Photo credit

We are struggling and having this horrible trial and we want out.  We are ready to be done, or at the very least, we are ready for someone to hear of our tribulation.  But no answer comes.  We feel we aren't being heard.

Trust me - I hear The Lion.  The reason I got up with him last night is because I have a hard time sleeping when he is sick.  I'm listening with bated breath to every whimper, every cough and every cry.  I wish I could just cuddle him all night and keep him safe but I know, in the current situation, that wouldn't help.  I long to help him and fix everything for him.  Are these not the feelings of our Heavenly Father?  I am pretty certain that every prayer is heard.  I am pretty certain He listens harder when we are struggling, just as I do when my kids aren't feeling well.  Sometimes, however, an immediate answer or a swift rescue is not what is expedient for our benefit and the larger plan.  I saw heard a quote this evening from Elder Scott in the October 1995 General Conference that says, "Your Father in Heaven and His Beloved Son love you perfectly.  They would not require you to experience a moment more of difficulty than is absolutely needed [emphasis added] for your personal benefit or for that of those you love."  That is definitely more generous than what I do as a parent but the point is there.  I never want my children to go through difficulty or struggles unless there is a purpose behind it.

In an amazing talk called Bread or Stones: Understanding the God We Pray to, S. Michael Wilcox discusses the idea of a "fourth watch God" in regards to Mark, Chapter 6.  He talks about how it is not until the 4th watch (from 3am to sunrise) is when Jesus finally came to help the apostles who, for hours, had been struggling to row against the wind.  He says, "So when the trials aren't over and the blessings don't come, don't assume that He is not there, or He is not listening, or He doesn't care, or you're not worthy.  Always assume you have not yet reached the fourth watch."  He goes on to explain, what to do if you feel as if you are in the 9th watch.  It is truly fantastic talk.  Take a minute, or more like 5 minutes, to read it.  I promise you will feel something that will give you hope, no matter what your trial may be.  Maybe I should read it to The Lion.

In the meantime, I am going to call it a night while The Lion is quiet because he may become a fourth watch need-more-medicine-in-order-to-sleep kiddo.

One last thing, whatever your trial or your struggle may be - say a prayer to your God asking him how he feels about you.  The answer with give you hope and strength to get through this next watch.

Where Have All the Heroes Gone?

The last few days have had a lot of headlines about perceived "heroes" not acting very heroic.  Mainly, football players abusing family members.  However, this is not old news is it?  There have been countless other stories of professional athletes who break the law in a multitude of ways and for some reason nothing comes of it.  As a mom of boys, it infuriates me.  Commonly, little boys look to athletes as heroes and what kind of an example is that.  We don't watch a whole lot of sports and so I am not sure if that will happen with my boys.  I'm not saying we don't like sports.  In fact, both my husband and I are pretty big sports fans and are always perusing scores and headlines on ESPN of our favorite teams.  The main reason we don't watch sports is simply that we do not have time.  (Unless, it is the Olympics, when we make time and also disregard all screen-time rules for the boys.)

However, another reason we don't watch sports is because it isn't safe to watch with kids in the room.  Sure, during the actual event, the only concern is maybe some "bad lip-reading" of someone cursing but the commercials are another story.  Have you seen the commercials that are on during a football game?  This post from Greg Trimble's blog pretty much sums it up.  And we wonder why people seem to shrug off the entitlement attitude, the violence and objectification of women and the giving over one's agency to an alcoholic vice?  I once heard that you can gauge the quality of the show you are watching based on the target audience of the commercials.  I need to be sure that no one thinks that I am saying that all football fans (or players, for that matter) are chauvinistic, alcoholic, egotistical jerks.  I am not. However, the commercials seem to plant a lot of ideas that just push the envelope of what is okay and accepted and you can't help but let your conscience be seared a little bit every time.  And it isn't just football.  I love to watch tennis.  (Don't judge, it is a great sport!)  Even there, with the "classier" commercials for Rolex and Mercedes, the ads, (especially for perfume/cologne), can drive away the spirit.

Back to the lack of heroes.   There are other instances, too.  A few years ago, a Yankee's outfielder let an umpire call a batter out even though the outfielder had missed the catch.  The mistake was caught on tape for all the world to see that he was a liar.  People said, "That's just the way you play the game!  You do what you can to win."  Seriously!?  I don't want my boys raised to think that cheating is perfectly fine, (and, in fact, a good tactic), as long as you can get away with it.

So, my friends, where have all the heroes gone?  I don't have an all-inclusive answer.  I hope that my boys will find heroism in many of the characters of the scriptures.  I pray that they will look to those around them - parents, grandparents, church leaders, teachers, and friends and find the ways that they act as heroes.  I hope that they will be heroes themselves and exemplify the attributes of a hero while trying to draw closer to He who is the greatest hero.

In researching this post, I came across a talk by Spencer W. Kimball from April 1976 General Conference entitled, "Boys Need Heroes Close By".  Included is the following quote from Walter MacPeek, "Boys need lots of heroes like Lincoln and Washington.  But they also need to have some heroes close by.  They need to know some men of towering strength and basic integrity, personally.  They need to meet them on the street, to hike and camp with them, to see them in close-to-home, everyday, down-to-earth situations; to feel close enough to them to ask questions and to talk things over man-to-man with them."  There is also a great poem included in the talk called "Only a Dad".  I am grateful that my boys get to have a dad who really is a hero.  He passed all of my hero questions with flying colors.  I am grateful that all of their grandparents, their aunt and uncles have demonstrated heroism in their own way.

Try to Show Kindness in ALL that You Do

If you had asked me 24 hours ago if I had ever been a bully, I would have said, "No," with a firm conviction that I had not.  However, my answer has changed in the past 24 hours.  Thanks to my lengthy commute home from work late at night, I have a lot of time to think and reflect.

It all started when I was passed by a Dodge Neon.

In my church growing up, instead of having YM/YW, we mainly were grouped off by our class year and sometimes with more kids for trips and retreats.  We had a small confirmation class of about 9 people and my closest friends that I keep in touch with come from that small group.  In the group, there was a girl who was significantly shorter than me, (so yeah, really short) and she was a little socially awkward.  During a big trip to Atlanta, (which is a long trip from Northern Minnesota), she demonstrated that she was somewhat obsessed with the new Dodge Neon and their "Hello" ad campaign.  Every time she saw an ad or a Neon, she would say something along the lines of "Oh!  Hello!  You're so cute!"  I don't remember if we ever teased her about it to her face but there were plenty of things said behind her back.  (Which, really, does being a bully have to be done to their face?)  And I know that those jokes about the Neon led to many other backbiting conversations about her.

I then remembered another girl, also from a church group.  She was from a somewhat poor family and you could easily tell by the way she dressed.  I don't remember anything that we said about her and I remember, for the most part, being kind to her.  However, I do remember that at one retreat, she was asleep and we tried the "pour warm water on her hand" trick to see if she would wet the bed.  (She didn't...she just woke up.  Duh!)  I don't think we did it to bully her but just to try out the trick and she was the first one to fall asleep.  However, years later, when I learned that she had taken her own life, that attempt at being funny came to the forefront of my mind almost immediately.  I doubt our "joke" had anything to do with her decision but I still grieve for the kindness that was not shown to her, even in just that one night.

As that Neon passed me last night, all of those memories came flooding back and I felt horrible for the way I had participated in hurting both of those girls, (and I'm sure there were others).  I did not do it to be mean.  I did it to fit in.  The other friends who participated were good and loyal friends.  I am certain that if I had chosen the higher road and tried to be nice to those girls that my friends would not have turned on me or added me to their bullying.  (And if they had, would that have been real friends?)

So, to my amazing little boys, (and to anyone else that may listen), I urge you to try to do better in this area.  Do (at least) try to show kindness in ALL that you do!  Avoid speaking evil of others or laughing at their expense.  As you look at others, think of the lyrics of "I Am a Child of God" with different perspective.  If you find yourself thinking unkind thoughts, think of directing the lyrics to them.  "You are a child of God.  And he has sent you here.  He has given you an earthly home, but maybe you are not blessed with parents kind and dear.  And so, I will walk beside you and help you find the way, that we both may live with him someday."  For those that go to the temple, a good measure of your thoughts of others is, would you say those thoughts while in the temple?

I know that I can do better in this area but I am grateful for a patient and guiding Heavenly Father to help me to find the right way and see others as he would see them.

Never Alone

The Lion has been quite the little cuddler lately.  (And I love it!)  Before naps and bedtime, he'll just nuzzle under my chin and wrap one arm around me, (making sure the other hand is available to hold his pacifier), and rock in the rocking chair with me.  It is easy for me to just sit there for a while and hold him, remembering how fast the time of a cuddly boy disappeared with LJ.  It provides a wonderful opportunity to just think. In such a peaceful setting and while feeling so much love for the little guy in my arms, it is hard to think about laundry.  My thoughts usually evolve into some sort of prayer.  The other day, I recalled a letter that I wrote to LJ when he was little(r).  The feelings expressed still hold true and so I thought I would share it here as well.  If you want context, it comes right after this part of the letter.

Dear LJ (and Lion),

There is a song called “Never Alone” by Lady Antebellum and Jim Brickman that reminds me of you.  The lyrics are as follows:

May the angels protect you, trouble neglect you, and heaven accept you when it’s time to go home.  May you always have plenty, your glass never empty.  Know in your belly, you’re never alone.  May your tears come from laughing, you find friends worth having, with every year passing, they mean more than gold.  May you win and stay humble, smile more than grumble, and know when you stumble, you’re never alone.  Never alone…I’ll be in every beat of your heart when you face the unknown.  Wherever you fly, this isn’t goodbye.  My love will follow you, stay with you…you’re never alone.  Well, I have to be honest, as much as I want it, I’m not going to promise that cold winds won’t blow.  So when hard times have found you, and your fears surround you, wrap my love around you.  You’re never alone.

Here is the video if you prefer

The majority of your life, you will probably have the thought of "Oh, Mom!" but maybe someday you will get it or maybe someday you will need it.  

It is the last part that gets me choked up every time.  I just would prefer you did not have to have any adversity.  You are getting closer and closer to crawling and/or walking and I know that will lead to lots of bumps and bruises and probably some cuts and scrapes.  Ugh!  I have to keep reminding myself that all kids get those things and they get over it and are fine.  It has caused me to think a lot about Heavenly Father’s perspective.  I am sure that He is just as protective of us but also knows the importance of agency (and the inevitable associated pain and difficulty at some point in life).  Please know that “when the cold winds blow” that you can always count on me loving you and cheering you on.  I will do all that I can to help buffer those storms but also allow you to feel them and learn from them.  

Using that same metaphor I saw a quote the other day that stated “Instead of telling God how big the storm is, tell the storm how big God is.”  Remember that He can provide strength and comfort during hard times.  Remember that Christ, through His suffering in Gethsamane, not only makes up for our sins but understands our trials and “bad days”.  The atonement is there to give you courage and reassurance when you are faced with doing something that may be a painful or difficult but yet something you know that you need to do.

Alright, sweetheart, you will probably be waking up from your nap soon so I should sign off.  Know that I just love you so much.  I love you so much that when I get a bit of a break from you, (i.e. you’re asleep), I frequently look at pictures and videos of you…I just can’t get enough of you.  I love the feel of your head under my chin or on my cheek.  I love holding you tight.  I love how you are so willing to give of your smiles and how those smiles reach your eyes.  I love how you look around and it seems you see the angels that are sent to guard you.  I love that you have taught me so much about the Plan of Salvation within the short 5 months you have been here.  Thank you for being such a wonderful kid!