Angels

Yesterday.
It wasn't such a good day.

My sweet Reilly-girl, who had been ailing for the past several days took a turn for the worse.
A high fever, chills, and a side and tummy ache.  She looked as pale as death: her skin almost translucent, dark purple circles around her eyes, emphasizing the contrast.  Listless and lethargic, she only wanted to crawl under her blanket and cry.

A trip to the doctor's office did not provide many answers-- other than what her condition wasn't.

It wasn't strep.
It wasn't the flu.
It wasn't appendicitis.

Genuinely concerned, the doctor told me that it was most likely a simple virus, but if she wasn't feeling better within 36-48 hours that I should call him immediately.

Not feeling super great myself, I girded up my loins for a long afternoon.  The kind where a mama's needs definitely take a backseat for her little ones.  It's always in those moments that providential strength comes to lift and comfort, even if it doesn't always make things easier physically and emotionally.

By the time evening came, it found me sitting on our ottoman, head in my hands.
I was just absolutely exhausted in every way imaginable.

It was at that moment that there was a little tap on my arm.
I moved my hands from my eyes to see my little Logan grinning back at me.

"Hi," came his sunny greeting. 

His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but laugh as I picked him up and held him to face me eye-to-eye.

He looked at me, and making certain I was keeping eye contact with him, he placed one small hand on each side of my face.  Cupping my face in his hands he smiled warmly at me and made a single emphatic pronouncement.

"Mama."

He then tapped my cheeks with his palms, as if to reaffirm the message.
It came through loud and clear.

"Mama."

I am so grateful for the angels-- seen and unseen-- that get me through the difficult moments in life.

Especially little 20-month-old ones.

{five things ix}

-one-

So today's five things was actually started on Friday night, I promise.  These days, writing sometimes has to come in tiny increments.  But when I started putting my Friday five together, it was 8:30 in the evening, and as I looked around I realized that I had spent the entire day in my pajamas.  It was just that kind of day.  In fact, the only members of my family who had actually changed into normal everyday clothes were Bryson and Taylor.  Reilly had spent the day at home sick, and the twins just sort of had a pajama day by default.

In fact, most days you can find me in my bright red flannel pajamas.  They've kind of become my new uniform.  They're warm.  They're comfy.  They have a stretchy waistband.  Seriously, what's not to love?

-two-

If my pregnancies could have a sponsor, it would be the little Mexican food chains here in Utah-- Betos & Rancherito's.  I'm pretty sure that they're run under the same parent company, although each restaurant seems to be independently owned and operated.  While the idea of most food in general right now absolutely turns my stomach, I can't get enough of their ham & egg breakfast burritos.  And honestly, those things are monsters-- like, football-sized.  Almost.  In my non-pregnant state I can barely put down half of one.  But now...  Oh, heaven help us.  It must be the protein that my body is craving, but holy cow.  The adorable little Mexican-American lady that works the drive up in the mornings has gotten to know me well through my pregnancy with the twins and now these last few weeks.   

-three-

Contrary to what you might assume, this is not a crime scene photograph.

A few weeks ago, we purchased some toddler beds for the twins.  Nights have been... well, interesting ever since.  This was the scene one morning when I came to check on them.  Logan was cozied up on his bed just fine, but Dani...  Well, you can see for yourself.  Blankets strewn about the room, and she was snoozing face-down, with her winter coat over the top of her.  We're hoping she gets the hang of it soon.

-four-

Last week, I actually had a couple-day stretch where I felt pretty good.  Since I had a bit of energy, I decided to make some Christmas cookies.  Taylor was at school, and Logan wasn't interested, but my girls were all on board for the adventure.

As you can see, Reilly "helped" thoroughly.

I tried out a new recipe this year, a "chocolate crinkle" cookie-- you can check out the link for the recipe!  They are very good.  Following the recommendation of one of the reviewers, I rolled half of the cookie dough in powdered sugar for the traditional "snowball" look, and then I rolled the other half in regular granulated sugar.  After baking, I let the glittery granulated ones cool somewhat and then added a candy cane Hershey's kiss to the center.  Ta da!  Two cookies for the work of one!  Awesome.

-five-

Last, but certainly not least, I wanted to show you my most favorite thing at the moment.  This is a picture that Reilly drew for me of our family.  Note how many people are in the drawing.

There are so many things I love about this picture.  I love that she chose to draw the new baby as already a part of the family-- in fact, right at the very center!  I love how happy everyone is.  I love that Reilly chose to draw herself right in between Bryson and I, and that she's looking up at us with a big smile.  And that her big brother Taylor is looking down at her, watching over her.  So true to life (most days).  Family really is the most amazing gift.  I'm so grateful for a home that is filled with real and honest love.

• • •

And those are my five things for last week!

♥

What Can I Give Him, Poor as I Am?

Three years ago, my eldest boy, Taylor, was three years old.
Three is a magical age for this time of year.

• Taylor, 2008 •

It was just days before Christmas, and I was tucking him into bed.  We had read a story, said his prayers, had hugs and kisses, and turned out the light.  There in the darkness, just as I was about to head for bed myself, I heard Taylor's little voice.

"Mom?"
"Yes, honey?"

Turning to face him, I noticed a most concerned expression on his face.

He sighed.

"I just don't know what to get Jesus for His birthday!"

I paused for a moment, wanting to respond with the same sincerity he was showing.  In the quiet darkness of his room, one of my favorite carols came to mind.

 
What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb.
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part.
Yet what can I give Him?  
Give my heart.
("In the Bleak Midwinter" music by Gustav Holst, lyrics by Christina G. Rossetti)
 
Looking at Taylor, I smiled.

"I think the best present to give Jesus would be to show kindness and be a good friend to everyone. Do you think Jesus would be happy if you were nice to your friends?"

He thought for a moment, and nodded with a grin.

"Yes, Mom, I think that's a good idea."

And with that small but significant moment, my perception of Christmas and what it could mean in the lives of my children shifted.

One of Bryson's and my favorite books to read during this season is A Christmas Carol.  If you haven't read the original words, unabridged from Charles Dickens himself, I highly recommend doing so.  There are so many beautiful passages that tend to be left out in the newer, more secularized versions.

A favorite passage comes from the dialogue between Scrooge and the ghost of Jacob Marley, as Marley laments to his old friend about what might have been:

"At this time..." the spectre said, "I suffer most.  Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode!  Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!" 

More recently, President Dieter F. Uchtdorf echoed the same sentiment in his counsel to all:

“Like the Wise Men of old, [we] should seek the Christ and lay before Him the most precious of gifts: a broken heart and a contrite spirit. We should offer Him our love. We should give Him our willingness to take upon ourselves His name and walk in the path of discipleship. We should promise to remember Him always, to emulate His example, and to go about doing good.”
("Christmas is About the Christ," 2011 First Presidency Christmas Devotional)
 
The Book of Mormon also teaches us that if we are to serve God, we must turn our eyes and our hearts to those around us.

And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.  (Mosiah 2:17)

When Christmas becomes more centered on the Savior, the presents and packages, the tinsel and trimmings, all seem dull in comparison to the everlasting gift Christ has given each of us.

It becomes less about dollars and cents, and more about service and an overwhelming sense of genuine love for all.

What can I give Him?  
Give my heart.
 
And, really, I can't think of a better gift than that.

• • •

This post is part of a blog hop hosted by the Book of Mormon Forum!

Please feel free to join us and link up your Christmas posts below.

It's True

Each year as we approach Christmastime, I consider how to best teach my children the true reason for the season.  While I love Santa and all that good stuff, I try not to make it the focus of our holiday.  At home, we listen to Christmas music constantly, and I try to keep the majority of songs centered on the Savior.  

An artist that I love, Christmastime or not, is Sara Groves.  This year, as I listened to her song "It's True," I suddenly started to cry.  I think as a mother, daughter, sister, and friend, this song seems to express so well my own feelings and beliefs about the Nativity story at this specific moment in my life, and how I want my children to feel about it as well. Despite the doubt that is so prevalent in the world today, we don't have to be hesitant.  As Toby Groves says so sweetly in the song, "Is anything too wonderful for God?" 

In keeping with that spirit, I put together a slideshow for my children to go along with Sara's beautiful lyrics.  I thought I would share it with those who would be interested here.  It's my hope that it brings a little Christmas cheer into your day.  

Remember the reason for the season!  Despite all the secular traditions we enjoy this time of year that have their basis in fiction, the wonderful truth of the matter is that the real Christmas story is not mere fantasy!

Just as in the Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon also testifies of Christ's sacred birth.

And it came to pass that I looked and beheld … the city of Nazareth; and in the city of Nazareth I beheld a virgin, and she was exceedingly fair and white.

And I looked and beheld the virgin again, bearing a child in her arms.

And the angel said unto me: Behold the Lamb of God, yea, even the Son of the Eternal Father!
(1 Ne. 11:13, 20-21)

Alongside Christians of all denominations and faiths, we also rejoice over the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ-- He who was born to save us all.  He was born for you and for me.  Each of us, individually and collectively.

It's true!
Glory to God in the highest.

Consecration of Will

It is ten minutes to ten o'clock in the morning, but it might as well be the middle of the night.
My body just wants to sleep.

I wish pregnancy was easier on me.
I really envy some of my girlfriends, who seem to waltz through the prenatal months so effortlessly.
Gracefully.
Unfortunately, that is simply not my lot in life. (Pregnant or not!)

For me, pregnancy is an arduous process-- it taxes my body, my mind, my spirit.
No matter how prepared I think I am going into things, it never fails to surprise me all over again with just how difficult it can be.

But, really, it's okay.

If this is the sacrifice required of me to bring another precious spirit into our family, I accept it whole-heartedly.
Gracefully, even.
(Most days.)

In the Gospel of Mark we read:

And [Jesus] took a child, and set him in the midst of them:  and when he had taken him in his arms, he said unto them,

Whosoever shall receive one of such children in my name, receiveth me.

Just days after the twins were born, I began having the strangest thoughts come over me while I was holding my newborns-- particularly with Logan (he is the "baby" of the two).  Even though I was *certain* that our family was complete, I kept getting these little impressions that there was yet another pregnancy to come.  At first I shrugged it off, telling myself that I was just feeling a little sad at the prospects of being done with this stage in our lives.  As much as I loved these little ones, I did not especially want to put my body and spirit through the rigors of another nine month ordeal.

The impressions continued, however.  They nagged and resisted my attempts to reason logically with them as to why our family was just fine the way it was.  When they persisted despite all my best efforts to sweep them under the rug, I slowly began to recognize them for what they were.

God had a different plan than we did.
And being that His plans always work out so much better than my own, I decided that maybe I ought to listen.

So I did.  And gradually, over the course of a couple of months, my heart began to soften.
As I opened my heart to the idea, I decided that I probably better break the news to Bryson.

I think I kind of blindsided him.

But after a few weeks of considering the impressions I had shared with him, he had a deeply personal experience of his own that confirmed the path that lay before us.
 
After that, we never looked back.
We've gone forward in faith, trusting in the Lord's timing.

Which is not to say that there haven't been times when I have questioned the sanity of adding another spirit to our family with all that is on our plates.  But at those moments I remember the experiences I have had, and in Whom my trust is placed.  Reconsideration was never an option.  (And a little bit late at this point!)

So while these next few weeks and months will be a considerable challenge, I am heartened by the knowledge that I am not alone.  And that He is happy with the path we have chosen.

... The submission of one's will is really the only uniquely personal thing we have to place on God's altar.  The many other things we "give," brothers and sisters, are actually the things He has already given or loaned to us.  However, when you and I finally submit ourselves, by letting our individual wills be swallowed up in God's will, then we are really giving something to Him!  It is the only possession which is truly ours to give.

Consecration thus constitutes the only unconditional surrender which is also a total victory!

(Neal A. Maxwell, "Swallowed Up in the Will of the Father," Oct. 1995 Conference Report) 

Somebody's Baby

Baby!  Baby!  Baby!

Under normal circumstances, Dani's watchcry would have been charming and amusing.  But at this particular moment, her timing was just a little less than perfect.

Trapped in the middle of a church pew during the blessing of our friends' newborn baby, Dani simply could not contain her enthusiasm for the little bundle of joy we were formally welcoming into the world.  Her words echoed throughout the chapel, pealing like bells.  A quiet and discreet exit was not an option.

Baby!

Baby!
Baby!

After the proceedings, I sought out my friend Erika, whose baby girl had been the focus of Dani's boisterous adulation.  I tried to apologize for the disruption, but thankfully she had found her little outbursts adorable, not annoying.

I was so relieved.

Over the past couple of months, Dani has suddenly become increasingly aware of babies.  She is fascinated, curious, and completely in love.  She carries a baby doll around the house regularly that is at least two-thirds the size she is.  She cares for it with all the love in her little heart.

When we leave the house, we cannot go anywhere without her pointing out every baby she sees with the same clamorous excitement. 

Baby!  Baby!  Baby!

Of course, "baby" is a very subjective word.
Anyone under the age of five usually qualifies in Dani's eyes, though she has made exceptions many times for those who could hardly be considered newcomers to this wide world of ours.  Once, she even excitedly pronounced the epithet to a gruff-looking middle aged man driving alongside us in a pickup.

That one made me chuckle.

Although really, he's got to be somebody's baby.
He must be somebody's baby.

(Cue the Jackson Browne track...)



But I digress.

The tenderness and adulation that Dani gives to each baby she encounters overwhelms me.  It is truly beautiful to see.

As we visited my friend Erika in her home a while later, I watched as Dani softly stroked the newborn's head, speaking to her in a soft and sweet little voice.  She turned to me with an electric smile. 

19 months old.  Just a baby herself, and yet the reverence and love she showed this little daughter of God spoke volumes.  Even at so young an age, she recognized that this was something special, something precious.

I am so grateful for my little girl, and the love she freely shares with all of God's children whom she encounters each and every day.

And I look forward to the day, roughly seven months from now (give or take), when she will have the opportunity to share that love with a new bundle of joy in our own family.

Yep, that's right.
I'm happy to report that Baby no. five is on his or her way.

Dani is going to be so pleased.

Eighteen Minutes

3:12 in the afternoon.

Only 18 minutes, give or take, until the "big kids" burst in the front door:
Breathless and rosy-cheeked from their sprint home from the bus stop.

18 minutes to be productive.

The kitchen is overflowing.
The carpets need cleaning.
The laundry needs folding.

*sigh*

18 minutes.

Then a knock.
And a cry.

Mamamamamama!

Naptime is ending.

I let Logan out of his room, and give him a quick kiss and a snuggle.

I attempt to set him down.

18 minutes, you know.

But it's just not happening.
Sometimes a boy just needs his mamamamamama.

So we cuddle on the couch instead.
His head on my chest, snuggling in tighter.
Soft, contented baby sighs.
(No sound sweeter.)

One small hand stroking my hair
The other holding his beloved Puppy fast.
(Puppy tail in mouth, naturally.)

18 minutes.

It's simply not enough time.

Finding Gratitude

Sometimes, being thankful comes naturally.

We look around us and see the bountiful blessings that have been freely given and praise God for His goodness.

At other times, however, we might search with discouragement, for God seems so very far away.  Life is not always a smooth and beautiful ride, laden with luxury and ease.

Sometimes, being thankful is hard.

I have been thinking a lot about my friend Paige, and the tragedies she and her family have been living through recently.  Even though I have been through some very difficult and trying times in my own life, I am uncertain how I would cope with the loss of one husband, let alone two.  I am pretty sure I wouldn't move through those tragedies with the same grace and faith as my dear friend.   

How is it possible to feel gratitude at a time like that?
Where is the justice and mercy of an all-loving God?

A few weeks ago, my good friend Hope sent me a link to an essay written by Carlfred Broderick, a therapist and former stake president.  In it, he tells the story of an event he attended for eleven-year-old girls who were matriculating from the church's Primary program to the Young Women's organization.  As part of the event, they had a beautiful, over-the-top program based on The Wizard of Oz.  An eleven year old Dorothy and her friends skipped down the smoothly paved yellow brick road on their way to Oz-- which cleverly was made to resemble a beautiful temple.  Once they arrived at "Oz," they had it made.  All along the way, there were no bumps in the road.  No missing bricks, no flying monkeys, no wicked witch, nothing.

At the end of the program, the Stake Primary President invited President Broderick to the pulpit to make some remarks.  He knew that what he was about to say would most likely not be especially appreciated by those who had put on the program, but he felt it was crucial to make a few points clear.

He said:

Girls, this has been a beautiful program.  I commend the gospel with all of its auxiliaries and the temple to you, but I do not want you to believe for one minute that if you keep all the commandments and live as close to the Lord as you can... that bad things will not happen to you.  And when that happens, I do not want you to say that God was not true.  Or to say, they promised me... that if I [was] very, very good, I would be blessed.  

When [tragedies] happen, do not say God is not keeping His promises to me.  The gospel of Jesus Christ is not insurance against pain.  It is resource in event of pain, and when that pain comes (and it will come, because we came here on earth to have pain among other things), when it comes, rejoice that you have resource to deal with your pain.     

Rejoice, because we have resource to deal with our pain.

Even in the midst of darkness and despair, we can be thankful-- for we are not alone.  We are not left comfortless.

President Marvin J. Ashton affirmed, "Sometimes as children we were told that everything would be all right.  But life is not like that.  No matter who you are, you will have problems.  Tragedy and frustration are the unexpected intruders on life's plans.  Someone has said, 'Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans.'  It is important that we do not look upon our afflictions as a punishment from God.  True, our own actions may cause some of our problems, but often there is no evident misconduct that has caused our trials.  Just the normal journey through life teaches us that nothing worthwhile comes easy."
("If Thou Endure It Well," October 1984 Conference Report)  

A song that I have been listening to a lot these days is "Gratitude," by Nichole Nordeman.  The message in the lyrics is that even when we don't receive the blessings we so earnestly desire, that we can give thanks for the lessons we are learning as we diligently seek the Lord and strive to do His will.  It is a lesson I am continually learning piece by piece in my own life.

In the Book of Mormon, Amulek delivers this powerful testimony:

...Take upon you the name of Christ; that you humble yourselves even to the dust, and worship God, in whatsoever place ye may be in, in spirit and in truth; and that ye live in thanksgiving daily, for the many mercies and blessings which he doth bestow upon you.

And now my beloved brethren, I would exhort you to have patience, and that ye bear with all manner of afflictions... with a firm hope that ye shall one day rest from all your afflictions. 
(Alma 34:38, 40-41) 

I love that.

Even in the midst of afflictions-- deep and dark ones-- we are still blessed beyond compare.  For we are children of a King, and He will strengthen us, help us, and cause us to stand.  (See "How Firm a Foundation," verse 3)

Our personal road of mortality is fraught with twists and turns.  But just because we stumble and fall-- sometimes hard-- it doesn't mean that our journey is at an end.  It is only part of the process.

These words from Ammon from the pages of the Book of Mormon also fill me with a joyous hope:

Now when our hearts were depressed, and we were about to turn back, behold, the Lord comforted us, and said... bear with patience thine afflictions, and I will give unto you success.

Now have we not reason to rejoice? Yea, I say unto you, there never were men that had so great reason to rejoice as we, since the world began; yea, and my joy is carried away, even unto boasting in my God; for he has all power, and all wisdom, and all understanding; he comprehendeth all things, and he is a merciful Being, even unto salvation, to those who will repent and believe on his name.
(Alma 26:27,35) 

And for that, I give thanks.

• • •

 

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• • •

Louder Than Words

Last week I had the pleasure of guest posting at Chocolate on my Cranium as part of the Grateful Hearts, Giving Hands celebration.  I am reposting that piece here for my family.  If you have ever had an experience where your child has surprised you by serving others, please consider linking up your post to Cocoa's Wordfull Wednesday! 

• • •

Receiving a call from your child's teacher during regular school hours is never something you are fully prepared for.

Last autumn had already been a time of great transition in our family, and I was deeply concerned with how my five-year-old son Taylor was coping.  Seeing his teacher's number pop up on my cell phone was not particularly reassuring.

Bracing myself, I took a deep breath and answered the call.

His teacher began.

I just wanted to call to tell you the sweetest story about Taylor and what a kind heart he has!

This was most certainly unexpected.

She went on, explaining that they were preparing as a class to make applesauce from apples that each child had been instructed to bring from home.  For one reason or another, there were several students who had not brought the requisite apple with them to class.  Happily, there were a few children that had brought more than one apple with them and so the extras were distributed as far as they would go.  This still left several children, however, without an apple with which to participate in their class project.  Saddened by her students' disheartened expressions, the teacher was left with few options.

And then Taylor raised his hand.

They can have my apple, he said.

Just like that.
Without any thought for himself, he stood up and gave his only apple to a boy who had none.

It was one of those moments that does a Momma proud.
Applesauce never tasted so sweet.

Since that moment a year ago, I have reflected often on how our teaching as parents has affected our children's understanding and desire to develop a giving heart.  Certainly, we have done our part in trying to teach the Golden Rule.  We have read the parable of the Good Samaritan as a family often.  These have been lessons taught in a more formal setting.  But I believe that more often than not, it has been the little examples we try to show daily as we give to those around us that have brought about the greatest teaching moments.

Letting them accompany me as we take a dinner to a family in need.
Having them witness their daddy help an elderly couple with a heavy load in a store parking lot.
Allowing them to assist as we prepare the family meal together.
Encouraging them in their efforts as they help comfort a crying sibling.

Because they know that having a giving heart is important to my husband and I, it has become important to them as well.  

A study conducted at Princeton in the 1960's demonstrated these same findings in a remarkable way.

The researchers used adult models to teach children about charity and greed.  These models would talk to the children about both charity and greed and also act in a charitable or greedy manner.  Sometimes the adult would act in accordance with what he was teaching, and other times he would do the opposite.

The study demonstrated that moral preaching by itself did not influence the children.  If the model spoke about charity but then acted greedily, the children followed the example of greed.  Those findings really didn't surprise me in the least.  However, it was also discovered that if the model spoke encouragingly about greed yet acted in a charitable manner, the children disregarded the teachings about greed and instead acted with charity.  (See J. H. Bryan, “Actions Speak Louder Than Words: Model Inconsistency and Its Effect on Self-sacrifice,” Research Bulletin 68–16, Princeton: Educational Testing Service, 1968, quoted also in this article.)

I found that fascinating.

Knowing that it is ultimately our own example that will shape and define our children's desire to give and serve others, I have found myself more consciously aware of how I proceed in my daily routine.  And though I am far from being the perfect example, I have made an increased effort to give a little more selflessly-- especially within the walls of my own home.  

Elder Dallin H. Oaks has said:

We live in a time when sacrifice is definitely out of fashion, when the outside forces that taught our ancestors the need for unselfish cooperative service have diminished.  Someone has called this the "me" generation-- a selfish time when everyone seems to be asking, what's in it for me?  

The values of the world wrongly teach that "it's all about me."  That corrupting attitude produces no change and no growth.  It is contrary to eternal progress toward the destiny God has identified in His great plan for His children.  The plan of the gospel of Jesus Christ lifts us above our selfish desires and teaches us that this life is all about what we can become.  
("Unselfish Service," April 2009 Conference Report)

The world will not teach our children to give.
In this world of disposable income, possessions, and relationships, there are fewer examples than we would like in our children's sphere of influence that teach them the value of a giving heart.

As parents, we must set the standard for them to follow.  And as we strive to, like our Savior, "go about doing good," (see Acts 10:38) each of our hearts will benefit-- growing ever so slightly more like His, which we do our imperfect best to emulate.

Heartache

Have you ever had a group of friends that changed your life so profoundly that they stay locked within your heart forever?

That was my experience with the five girls I lived with in my third year at BYU.  Here we are together at an impromptu slumber party on our apartment's living room floor.  Starting clockwise from the top left is Elizabeth, Melissa, me, Paige, and Emily C.  Our sixth roommate, Emily P. is taking the picture.  We became like sisters as we navigated the shaky waters of young adulthood together.  Through good times and bad, we leaned on each other.

In a lot of ways, Paige was the rock that held us together-- and not only as the foundation for our fun little pigpile here.  She seemed so poised, faithful, and wise beyond her years.  She knew exactly who she was and what she wanted to do with her life.  In contrast, I was struggling to figure out the answers to those same questions.  I had a lot of admiration for her.

Over time, we all went our different ways.  Paige married her college sweetheart, Lence.  I transferred to Utah State.  Though we drifted apart over the years, we never forgot the close ties that bound us together during that pivotal year.  And thanks to Facebook, we were able to reconnect with one another again.

Then came the afternoon, two years ago, that I learned the news.

Lence, Paige's husband of ten years and father to their five young children had been killed.  He was shot several times by a tenant of an apartment complex that he owned.  It seemed an inconceivable, impossible act.  We were devastated for Paige and her four little girls, and one baby boy-- only 8 months old.   

How on earth do you go on breathing after something like that?
I wasn't sure.

But Paige did.  She kept breathing and more.  She pressed onward, her faith in tact, and trusted in the Lord's plan for her and her family.

And once again, I could only marvel.

This past spring, we all rejoiced as she remarried a wonderful man named Brian.  We were all so happy to see Paige find love again.  It seemed only fair after all she had been through that she would be able to experience an abundance of joy once more.

And then more news came this afternoon.

Brian, Paige's newlywed husband had passed away in their home last week.

I think my heart literally stopped beating for a few seconds after I received the message. 

How?
Why?
Where is the justice?  The mercy?

Mostly, I just wanted to reach across the miles between us and give my friend a hug.  To cry with her.

I don't understand all the reasons that some people seem to have to suffer so much more than others in this life.  All I know is that through it all, we are not left comfortless.  Our Savior is there to lean on at all times, and to carry us through the moments we feel that we can go no further.

And one day, we will kneel at His feet and with a greater understanding we will be able to stand back and see with perfect clarity.

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.  (Revelation 21:4)

I look forward to that day more than I can say.
I love you, Paige.

Soundtrack of Gratitude

Now I must confess, I absolutely love Christmas music.

Although I normally refrain from playing it before Thanksgiving, I will freely admit that there have been times when I have listened to my favorites during the "off season."  But particularly since I have had children, I have come to notice that when Christmas music is playing in the early weeks of November, the focus tends to shift ever so tangibly to Christmas instead of the holiday that is actually approaching. 

So this year, I decided that I was going to try and find some Thanksgiving music to listen to through these next few weeks.  And you know what?  I found some great tracks.

I thought I'd share a playlist I created of some great contemporary songs that are especially appropriate for Thanksgiving.  Some speak directly of giving thanks and gratitude, some are traditional folk songs associated with this time of year, and others are simply more general in their praise of God and all the blessings He freely bestows to His children.  All of them have helped me keep the focus in our home on giving thanks at this special time of year.

• • •

A Soundtrack of Gratitude (Contemporary Version)

1.  Simple Gifts - Steven Sharp Nelson

2.  This is the Day - Rachel Scott

3.  For the Beauty of the Earth - Steve & Danny Thompson

4.  My Father's World - Jadon Lavik

5.  How Great Thou Art - Lindsey Kane

6.  Praise to the Lord, The Almighty - Jon Meyer

7.  How Could I Ever Say Thank You - Kathryn Scott

8.  Psalm 118 - Shane & Shane

9.  Hallelujah (Acoustic Version) - Bethany Dillon

10.  You Raise Me Up - Aled Jones

11. Gratitude - Nichole Nordeman

12.  How Can I Keep From Singing? (Acoustic Version) - Chris Tomlin

13.  Simple Gifts - Jewel

14.  All Creatures of Our God and King - Justin Unger

15.  Homeward Bound - Ashlee Cook

16.  What a Wonderful World - Stacey Kent

17.  Amazing Grace - Jadon Lavik

18.  Count Your Blessings - Ali Matthews

I hope you enjoy this playlist as much as our family has!  I'm also working on fine tuning a more traditional/classical playlist for Thanksgiving as well.  I'll try and post it in the coming days.

Best wishes for a season of gratitude!

{five things • viii}

I've decided that for the month of November, I'd like to focus my "five things" posts on the blessings I am grateful in my life. So, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, here are five things I am especially grateful for after a long week of sickness in our home.  (See this post for details.)

- one - 

I am so grateful for the power of priesthood blessings, and a husband who holds it with humility and honor.  

Not only were our children blessed to help them recover quickly, but I also received a blessing to help strengthen and sustain me through these difficult days.  

We all were most definitely strengthened, body and soul. 

- two - 

 I am also incredibly thankful for my automatic washer and dryer.

In Hilary Weeks' book Bedtime and Naptime, she delivers a tongue-in-cheek ode to her washer, and how we really should appreciate all that they do for us a little bit more.  I think she's on to something.

I cannot imagine what the past few weeks would have been like without it.  The amount of laundry we have had to wash and rewash has been staggering.

We are truly blessed with all the modern conveniences we enjoy.

In a similar vein, I am also very, very thankful for indoor plumbing.

We'll just leave that one at that.

- three - 

I am so grateful for music.

It lifts my soul, and it brings a great spirit into our home.  We took this photo of the twins this morning playing the piano, now that they are feeling better.  Their expressions pretty much say it all.  

Whether it is being played on the piano or the radio, it is a major contributor to the atmosphere in our home.  As we have tried to listen to songs that reflect the message of Thanksgiving this past week, it has put us in a great frame of mind.

- four - 

I am thankful for Milky Way Midnights.

When I first bought the Halloween candy variety pack, I went through and picked them all out to save them for a rainy day.

The kids don't appreciate them, anyway.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

Anyway, as I was deep cleaning the house yesterday, trying to banish all the nasty germs, I found the stash.  I had completely forgotten about them.
Totally made my day.

- five - 

No matter how bad your week is, kisses and cuddles make everything better.

I am grateful for four special little spirits that I have been able to tend to and nurse back to health over the past week.

I am thankful for the extra time spent as we snuggled by the fireplace reading stories together.

(We're currently working our way through A. A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh.)

For hugs and kisses, and tender I-love-you's.

These are the moments I literally wouldn't trade for the world.

• • • 

And those are my five things for... um, Saturday!

The Do-Over

This is me, at approximately one o'clock yesterday afternoon.  Red flannel pajamas, hair unkempt, sans makeup.

Just keeping it real.

To say that the last week has been a challenge would be a horrible understatement.  Last week I was the lucky winner of a particularly unpleasant stomach bug that turned me into a walking zombie for several days.  And of course, being the caring and compassionate mother that I am, I had to share with the rest of the household.  All of us, except Bryson, have fallen victim to this nasty little virus.  Lucky duck.

Because of Bryson's challenging work schedule of late, I have been pretty much on my own taking care of our sick little brood.  It has made for some very long days and nights.  I really don't want to go into revolting detail, but just picture a first grader, a kindergartner, and two eighteen-month-old babies going through the worst stomach virus you can imagine. Welcome to my week.

It has been Vile.
With a capital V.
And I've been a mom for several years now.
There are few things that gross me out anymore.

But do you know what?

I am so incredibly happy. 
Yep, you read that absolutely right.

You see, a few weeks ago I found myself in a similar situation-- albeit not as bad-- as the one I am in right now.  Fighting a minor cold myself, I was struggling terribly as I tried to tend to my sweet little Logan-- who was suffering through an ear infection and sore throat.  He would not be consoled.  There was nothing I could do to stop his heart-breaking cries, except pray.  But my faith wasn't enough to take away my baby's pain.  As his wails continued into the night for hours, I began to feel incredibly powerless.  And resentful.

I wanted a miracle.  I wanted God to take my order and deliver immediately.  I wanted my husband to be home, where he could help me.  I wanted to sleep so that I could get over my own cold.
Wanted, wanted, wanted.

I even called up my husband at an unearthly hour and vented.
Okay, so "vented" may not be entirely accurate.
"Tantrum" is the word coming to mind that seems most appropriate here.

After I got a few meager hours of sleep and came to myself, I started seeing my actions with new eyes.

S-H-A-M-E.

I was mortified.  Had I really just presumed to counsel the Lord?  Had I really just told off my husband with complete and utter ingratitude for all he does for my family?  I wanted to crawl under a rock.  I felt like I had been given an important test and I had failed.  Miserably.

I called Bryson and apologized profusely.  I spent quite a bit of time that morning in silent prayer as I tended to my sick little boy.  I pleaded for forgiveness and for a chance to prove myself, to try again.  I prayed for the strength to do better. 

I got my chance this week.

It has surprised me how different things have been.  Even though the sickness has been so much worse in scope and severity, I have stayed upbeat through it all.  Sure, I'm tired.  But I have seen the blessings of being able to care for my family with such greater clarity this time around.

I am blessed to be in a position to care for these precious little ones.

As I have held them close and comforted them through this illness, there has been no resentment.  Only gratitude.  Instead of being so selfishly focused, I have tried to forget myself and get to work.  (Thank you, President Hinckley!)  And the funny thing is, it has only increased my own feelings of love and happiness.   

In 1984, Elder Russell C. Taylor, then of the First Quorum of the Seventy gave a fantastic discourse on service.  I happened upon it recently, and was struck by the power in these words:

I can say unashamedly, I rejoice in the service of God.  My experience teaches that the highest goodness attainable is a life of unselfish service to mankind...  Some mistakenly think that a commitment to service comes after a great spiritual experience.  This is like the man who is cold, standing before the stove, and saying, "Give me heat, and then I will put in some wood."  The joy and blessings of service follow the rendering of service. 

There comes a time in the life of all people when they must certify with their actions what they believe.  Jesus said of His own life, "The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." (Matt. 20:28)

Fathers and mothers, with your strength of example you will influence your sons and daughters for eternity with examples of loving, uncomplaining service far more convincingly by doing than only by saying.
("The Joy of Service," October 1984 Conference Report, emphases in original text) 

I can truly attest to the joy and blessings than come from selfless service.

As I cradled my baby girl recently, bathing her for likely the third time that day, the words of the Savior played repeatedly in my mind.

Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. (Matt. 25:40)

I have learned that as we serve our children with a deepened desire to lay our selfish interests on the Lord's altar, that He will strengthen us in ways we cannot imagine.  He will never shut us out-- and often when we are feeling that He has, it is often due to our actions-- that we have shut Him out.

If we can but humble ourselves, He will lift us above ourselves and fill us with an abundance of peace and joy.

Truly, my cup runneth over.

• • •

Celebrate giving with gratitude this month with us!

Dinner in a Pumpkin

This is our family's traditional Halloween dinner.  I know I've posted a recipe for this before, but it's been a couple of years so I've tweaked a few things here and there.

Some good tips to follow:

First, choose your pumpkin carefully.  If you plan on eating the flesh of the pumpkin, you may want to consider a variety that is grown specifically for eating.  Traditional Jack-o'-lantern type pumpkins are typically very bland.  I like to use the "Fairytale" variety we grow in our garden.  Not only is it beautiful, it's pretty tasty too. That said, I have used just regular ordinary pumpkins too.  You just may want to up the spices a bit to compensate.

Second, when you cut your pumpkin, try and make sure you cut straight across the top.  If you cut the same way as you would a carving pumpkin you run the risk of your top caving in while the pumpkin bakes.  Not good.

And lastly, this recipe calls for condensed soup-- like a lot of down-home type casseroles.  If you'd prefer not to use the canned stuff, you might try giving a recipe like this a chance.  I use only one can, unlike most recipes that call for two.  If you are a fan of the condensed soup, you might like to throw the extra can in.  For our family, one is just about right.

• • •

Dinner in a Pumpkin

2 pounds pork sausage (or whatever mix of ground meats you'd prefer-- for a once-a-year treat, we're all about the sausage)
1 medium onion
1 cup sliced mushrooms
2 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 apples (we typically use Jonathans or Golden Delicious)
2 T brown sugar
1/2 t cinnamon
1/2 t salt
1/2 t pepper
1/2 t nutmeg
1/2 t chile powder
1/4 t cloves
1 1/2 cups brown & wild rice blend, uncooked
3 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1 (10.75 oz) can condensed cream of mushroom soup
1 sugar pumpkin

1.  Brown the sausage over medium-high heat in a large skillet.  Drain meat, reserving a couple of tablespoons of the drippings in the pan.  Set meat aside and keep warm.
2.  Sauté onions and mushrooms in drippings until they are just starting to brown.  Add garlic, apples, sugar, salt, pepper, and all spices, continue cooking just a couple of minutes longer.
3.  Add rice and stock to pan, stirring well.  Cover, and cook until rice is done.
4.  While rice is cooking, preheat oven to 400°.  Prepare pumpkin by cutting off the top, straight across.  Remove seeds and pulp.  Rub the inside of the pumpkin with additional salt, pepper, and spices.  This will help add more flavor to the pumpkin flesh.
5.  When rice is finished, add the sausage back to the mixture as well as the condensed soup.  Stir well, and fill pumpkin with sausage and rice mixture.  Replace top to pumpkin and place on a baking sheet lined with foil.
6.  Bake at 400° for approximately 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or until pumpkin is tender and flesh scoops away from rind easily.  Serve by scooping rice mixture with a little of pumpkin flesh onto plates and enjoy!

Yield:  One pumpkin will easily serve 10, likely more.

Of Salt & Sunrises: Discerning the Holy Ghost

In the final chapter of the Book of Mormon, the prophet Moroni extends this invitation to all who might read his words:

And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.
(Moroni 10:4-5)

As a young girl, I often wondered just how the Holy Ghost would speak to my soul.
How would I know that the Book of Mormon was true?
I was pretty sure I wouldn't hear a voice. And an angelic visitation seemed pretty improbable.

But over time, I did discover for myself that the Book of Mormon was indeed the word of God.  I learned how the Holy Ghost communicates with my Spirit.  It was not in a dramatic physical manifestation, but in a quiet peaceful feeling that spoke to my soul.  Unlike my own emotions, the warm presence of the Holy Ghost seemed to wash over me almost as a wave from some unseen external Source.  Although it is sometimes difficult to describe exactly how I know, there is little doubt in my mind that I do know.

President Boyd K. Packer, of our faith's Quorum of the Twelve Apostles once related a story that describes this experience perfectly.

While sitting on an airplane next to a self-professed atheist, President Packer felt prompted to bear his testimony to him that God does indeed live.  When the gentleman pressed him to explain exactly how he knew, President Packer found himself at a loss of words to effectively communicate.  The words prayer, faith, and discernment meant nothing to his companion.

He said, somewhat mockingly, "You see, you don't really know.  If you did, you would be able to tell me how you know."

At that moment, the Holy Ghost brought a sudden insight to President Packer's mind, and he then replied with a question.

Speaking to the atheist he said, "Let me ask if you know what salt tastes like."

"Of course I do," was his reply.  "I know what salt tastes like as well as I know anything."

"Then," President Packer countered, "assuming that I had never tasted salt, explain to me just what it tastes like."

After several attempts, he found that he could not do it.  While he would explain what it did not taste like, there were no words for what it did taste like.  He simply could not describe in words alone the everyday experience of tasting salt.

President Packer recommenced, "My friend, spiritually speaking, I have tasted salt.  I am no more able to convey to you in words how this knowledge has come than you are to tell me what salt tastes like.  But I say unto you again, there is a God!  He does live!"
(President Boyd K. Packer, Ensign, "The Candle of the Lord", Jan 1983) 

Similarly, those of us who have received the answer to Moroni's promise may not always be able to articulate the sacred impressions that have brought us to the knowledge we hold dear.  But that does not mean that the experiences we share are any less valid.

Much like the rising sun gradually illuminates the sleeping earth below, reading the Book of Mormon (as well as the Bible!) brings light and warmth into my life.  It imparts clarity and insight that I wouldn't otherwise possess.  Like salt, it adds depth and a richness to my life.  Something would certainly be missing without it. 

I know that God lives.
I know that He speaks to us in the pages of holy scripture, including the Book of Mormon.
And do you know what?
I know that you can know too.

And ye may know that he is, by the power of the Holy Ghost; wherefore I would exhort you that ye deny not the power of God; for he worketh by power, according to the faith of the children of men, the same today and tomorrow, and forever.
(Moroni 10:7)

• • •

This post is part of a series hosted by the Book of Mormon Forum!
To learn more about the Book of Mormon, please visit this website.

Pumpkin Pancakes

It's been a long time since I posted a new recipe, so I thought I'd break the streak with some seasonal pumpkin recipes.  Prepare yourself.

These pancakes are really yummy.
I know that because Taylor tells me so.
He actually says that they are the best pancakes ever.

I don't know if they're that good, but considering that he is our toughest food critic that must be saying something.

The combination of the pumpkin and whole grains lends itself to a wonderfully hearty breakfast.  Our family loves them traditionally served with butter, maple syrup, and a side of bacon.  I'm tempted to try them with sweetened whipped cream with a hit of cinnamon, topped with pecans.  I'm pretty sure that would be positively divine, but also am pretty certain that the kids wouldn't touch them that way.

On the other hand, maybe that's not such a bad thing.

• • •

Pumpkin Pancakes

2 1/4 cups milk
2 T apple cider vinegar
1 cup pumpkin purée
3 T molasses (brown sugar or sucanat may be substituted)
1 egg
2 T canola oil
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1/2 cup buckwheat flour
2 t baking powder
1 t baking soda
1 t ground cinnamon
1/2 t salt
1/2 t ground ginger
1/2 t ground nutmeg
1/4 t ground allspice
1/4 t ground cloves

1.  Pour milk into measuring glass and stir in vinegar.  Let stand ten minutes in a warm environment.
2.  In a large bowl combine milk mixture, pumpkin purée, molasses, egg, and oil.  Mix well.  Stir remaining ingredients together in a separate bowl, then add to wet ingredients.  Stir just until combined.
3.  Ladle batter onto a hot griddle and cook individual pancakes until edges are starting to set and bottoms are browning.  Flip and cook until desired level of doneness.

Yield:  16 medium-sized pancakes

Thy Will Be Done

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear-- not absence of fear.  Except a creature be part coward, it is not a compliment to say it is brave; it is merely a loose misapplication of the word.

- Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson [1894]

• • •

Sometimes, doing what God asks of us is a joy.
It may stretch us, naturally, but we understand that this is so and walk ahead with confidence in His plan.

Other times, well...
It's not always easy.

In the summer of 2009, things were going fantastically well for me.  I really felt that I was starting to come into my own.  I was in great health, achieving many personal goals I had set for myself, balancing the demands of motherhood relatively well, and finally making peace with my deeply ingrained (and completely unproductive) perfectionism. 

Of course, it is in those moments of absolute complacency that the Lord decides to introduce opportunities for growth.

Now at the time, Bryson and I were fully aware that our family was not complete.  We knew that there was at least one more spirit meant to bless our family.  I was just hesitant to subject my body to the rigors of pregnancy again.

I was stalling.
And to be perfectly honest, I felt justified in that mindset.

You see, pregnancy and I are not exactly on good terms with one another.

It is not always the most simple thing for me to conceive, and when I had in the past, each of the nine months spent developing those precious little babies were a physical nightmare for me.  I experienced toxemia (preeclampsia) with both, and my health suffered tremendously.

With Reilly in particular, I was especially ill.  I gained weight at an uncontrollable pace despite a balanced diet.  My blood pressure jumped to a much higher level than is normal for me.  The swelling was absolutely unbearable.  Even after my sweet girl was born I continued to suffer from these maladies.  The blood pressure increased.  The swelling increased horrifically as well, making breastfeeding physically impossible.  I was rendered fairly incapable of caring for myself, much less my family.  

My sister & I just after Reilly's birth the summer of 2006; us again the summer of 2009

I was terrified of going through that again.

I did not want to suffer through nine months (or more) of illness.
I did not want to feel that I wasn't adequately nurturing my two children who were already here.
I did not want to be dependent on the good will of others to take care of the responsibilities I felt were my own.

Seriously.
I did not want to.

It was at this time that Bryson and I had the opportunity to take Taylor and Reilly to the Oquirrh Mountain Temple open house.

There was a tremendous spirit there, and as our little family entered one of the sealing rooms we took a moment to gaze into the beautiful mirrors together-- our reflections echoing endlessly in beautiful symbolism.  As I stood there with my family, the Spirit spoke very clearly and directly to my heart.

It was time.

I felt very strongly that I needed to pull myself together and trust in God's plan. 

However, just an hour or two later I was starting to waver again.  After leaving the sacred halls of the temple, reality set in.  Chatting with Bryson as we began the drive back home, I casually mentioned that I thought we should start trying for another baby at the beginning of the upcoming year-- several months into the future.

Keeping his eyes on the road as he drove, Bryson frowned slightly.

"Really?"  he postured carefully, "I was kind of thinking that now was the right time.  We'll certainly do whatever you think is best, but that's just the impression I felt in the temple."

I groaned inwardly.

"You felt that too?" I asked, a tinge of shame entering my voice.  "Well, if the time is right now, then I guess we'd better take Heavenly Father's advice to heart."

And a few short weeks later we were expecting.
And a few short months after that we learned we were expecting double.

Twins!

My head began to spin.  I actually laughed at my physician when he mentioned the possibility.  A nervous laugh.

But after the confirming ultrasound, I was filled with such peace and joy.  I knew we were following God's will for us and that we would be sustained-- come what may.

Now, I wish I could tell you that the months that followed were full of sunshine and roses, but that isn't the case.

It was an enormous challenge.

Although I managed to avoid the complications of toxemia, I was still ill throughout most of the pregnancy.  But there were many tender mercies also.  Unlike before, where I was so nauseous and fatigued that just getting out of bed was a challenge, I was at my best in the morning-- enabling me to tend to my children and get them to school with little incident.  While the exhaustion I felt was significant, Bryson's work schedule enabled him to be home to help in the evenings when I was most sick.  Those small but substantial blessings reconfirmed to us that the Lord was there and mindful of our needs.  That He was pleased with our willingness to listen to the promptings of the Spirit-- even with my initial hesitancy.

Sometimes it takes courage to step forward in faith when the way is fraught with uncertainty.
I don't presume to put myself up as an example of bravery, but for me it was an enormous turning point in my own personal spiritual growth.

It would have been so easy to say, "Certainly God would not wish for me to put my life and the well-being of my children at risk to go through another complicated pregnancy."  To take those trusting steps into the dark before the way is lit-- it's challenging at best.  But despite our misgivings, we know in Whom we can trust.  And we need not be afraid.

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
(2 Tim. 1:7)

And yet, following God's will does not necessarily equate to being led down the proverbial primrose path.

Just because we are doing everything we are asked to does not mean that the way will not be filled with difficulty, discouragement, and despair.  But as we trust in His infinite wisdom and love for each of us individually, we discover a resilience and inner strength that will see us through the storms of life. 

President Thomas S. Monson has said:

Life's journey is not traveled on a freeway devoid of obstacles, pitfalls, and snares.  Rather, it is a pathway marked by forks and turnings.  Decisions are constantly before us.  To make them wisely, courage is needed: the courage to say "No," the courage to say "Yes."  Decisions do determine destiny.

The call for courage comes constantly to each of us.  It has ever been so, and so shall it ever be.
("The Call for Courage," Apr. 2004 Conference Report)

With the determination to move forward in faith, we can take courage in the fact that the Lord will not forsake us.  Even in the midst of adversity He will ever be there.  
And by His endless grace, we shall become more than we were before.

• • •

This post is part of a Wordfull Wednesday link-up hosted by Chocolate on my Cranium!