{five things • xxvii}

- one -

I am terribly slow at posting this Five Things, but it's for good reason.

Last week, Bryson got really sick. It started just like any other stomach ailment, but quickly escalated until we were fairly certain he was suffering from appendicitis. So we spent the greater part of Valentine's Day getting him tested for a bunch of things and having a CT scan at the hospital. He was in a great deal of pain and unable to sit at all-- he either had to be laying down or pacing while we waited for results.

And then after all that, every test and scan came back totally clean and clear. So the doctors gave him a tentative diagnosis of viral gastroenteritis-- which basically means "we don't know what is causing this." He had to stay in bed for awhile and keep to a bland diet, but he is doing a bit better now. I wish he would take it a little easier, but yesterday he insisted on attending all his meetings and today he is at work as usual. It's still not gone, but he is no longer in constant serious pain, so I am tremendously grateful for that.

Now I just need a few days convalescence to recover myself!

- two -

This little munchkin is officially a baby on the move.
He started army crawling a couple weeks ago, and already he is getting up on his knees and motoring around the house pretty quickly.

I can't leave him alone for a second.
But I like spending time with this little guy, so it's all good.

- three -

Rounding the corner of my neighborhood and seeing this every day always makes me smile.

The work on the temple is coming along quickly, and they just brought in a new crane to start on the stone facing this week. Pretty exciting!!!

- four -

I'm going to try and post a couple of playlists here in the next few days. One is my standard go-to when I'm having a rough day, and the other is a collection of Easter-appropriate contemporary Christian tracks. I love, love, love Easter time, and I hope that you will enjoy bringing Christ-centered music into your day as much as I have! Here's one of my favorite songs just to whet your appetite. Bethany Dillon & Matt Hammit's version of "In Christ Alone."



- five -

There is a storm brewing in our house of late. You see, tomorrow is the Big Game.
BYU vs. USU basketball.
Have mercy.

My parents were able to snag some tickets last minute, and already the kids have taken sides. Taylor is a true blue dyed in the wool Cougar, and Reilly is passionate about her Aggies. Seriously.

Being that I am the only member of the family who has actually attended both schools, I am always caught in the middle. And honestly, it doesn't matter one bit to me who wins or loses. But you may want to batten down the hatches if you're in the area...

• • •

And those are my Five Things for the week!
Thanks to Heather for hosting our regular blog hop! 
♥

Nailed It!

The days and nights with a small newborn are a dichotomy between pure bliss and extreme endurance. I find myself always trying to hold on to the quiet moments, the times when I am overwhelmed with love and peace. When I get caught in the vicious cycle of exhaustion and frustration I try to go back to that same quiet, to remember how sad I will be when my little baby is not little any longer.

As I was considering how fleeting time really is this evening, I suddenly became very heartbroken. Knowing that Owen may very well be our last baby, I reflected on all of the previous years now gone by of my early motherhood years. There are so many things I wish I could go back and do better. So many lessons learned. And while that experience has been invaluable and propels me forward in wisdom as a mother of five (!) now, I look back on what was and what I wish could have been.

I have an image in my head of the person I want to be and the life I want to lead. I reach endlessly to that end, only to be frustrated when my efforts seem to come up short daily. I wonder why on earth it is so hard to cast off these bad habits and glaring weaknesses of mine, when I have such a clear image of the end goal. Shouldn't I simply be able to outline the necessary steps and proceed accordingly?

Poof.
Perfection.

If only.

As I considered this, the tears trickled down my face.
I cradled my baby boy, all innocence and light, and held my breath and tried to stop time from moving forward-- if only for just a few short moments.

Talking with Bryson when he entered the room, trying to explain exactly why I was crying-- that, no, I wasn't upset... no, I wasn't depressed... I was just...

Well?
What was I?

As I tried to explain how I was just keenly aware of the quick passage of time and the gnawing sense that I am still really kind of a wreck, a definite work in progress, a pair of images came into my mind.  And I suddenly began to laugh through my tears. Big gulping guffaws that I couldn't control. I'm pretty sure Bryson thought I had absolutely lost my mind, but I couldn't help it. Soon I was crying because I was laughing so hard. 

The pictures that came to my memory were a pair that I had seen floating around on Pinterest over the past couple of months. They so perfectly illustrated how I have felt about my life that I decided to pull them up to show Bryson, and reassure him that his wife had not actually gone crazy.

The first was this image of some impressively decorated Cookie Monster cupcakes. They are incredible! Perfectly frosted and decorated, and most assuredly delicious, to me they represent the way I want things to be.

I showed Bryson the picture.

"So... as an analogy, this is like how I think my life should be. Beautiful and well executed."

"Ummm, okay..." came his reply. I'm sure he had no idea where I was going with this.

"And THIS... well, this is how I feel like my life ACTUALLY is."

I showed him the second picture:

He totally got it.
Suddenly he was laughing right along side me.

He gave me a hug, and looked me squarely in the eye.

"You know, Tiff, they might not look exactly perfect-- but I bet they still taste delicious."

Life is messy. Being weak and making mistakes is part of the human experience.
I will never be perfect in this life. Never.
But that doesn't mean that every day can't be delicious, savored.

Even the awkward, unattractive ones.

So I cradle my baby boy just a little bit closer, and breathe in the fresh scent of innocence. Time may be fleeting, and I may be perfectly imperfect, but at this moment none of that matters.

I have a husband whom I adore.
And five beautiful children that have blessed our lives with more love than we could have imagined.
Our home is filled with love and laughter.

Regardless of all else, that makes this life delicious to me.

Lead Me, Guide Me, Walk Beside Me

Both of my daughters are confirmed "daddy's girls."

Just last night, Reilly announced to us before bed that while she loved both Bryson and I lots and lots, she loved her daddy more.

Although I can't deny that it stung a little, I know it's nothing personal.

I was once a daddy's girl myself.

And when you have a daddy like mine, you recognize that it is something special. Something to be treasured.

In this world where men are so strongly encouraged to create a legacy of material wealth, I stand in awe of those who choose to prioritize their lives toward building a spiritual legacy instead.

Of fathers who love their children, and choose to engage themselves fully in their lives.

Who build and uplift.
Who strengthen and encourage.

Fathers who tell their children that they love them fiercely-- not just by their actions, but with their words too. Fathers who don't assume that their children know how they feel, but communicate so that there can be no doubt in their minds exactly where they stand.

Who lead by love, not fear. By inspiration, not oppression.

Fathers who seek to be led themselves by their own Father in Heaven as they navigate through the uncertain waters of parenthood.

I am grateful to have been raised by such a father, and feel extraordinarily blessed to also have such a man as a father to my own children. I cannot imagine my life without either of them, and thank God that my own boys have such wonderful role models of what true manhood looks like in their lives.

Thank you, Dad.
Thank you, Bryson.
Thank you, Real Fathers everywhere.

A Perfect Ten

Love is blind.
Except when it isn't.

You see me:

A perfect conglomeration of
Imperfection.

I see you:

Strength and weakness
Anchored
by
Faith and trust.

Hand in hand we walk
Down garden paths and rocky trails
Sunlit meadows and bleakest caverns

Never letting go.
Never giving up.
Never fading away.

For our trust is not one to be placed
Blindly. 

Our eyes are lit by the clear reflection of each other.

And forever we continue onward:

Seeing with hearts wide open.

 • • •

Happy 10th Anniversary, Bryson.

I absolutely adore you.

(You can read "our story" here.)

{five things xiv}

- one -

Taylor came home from school a couple of days ago with a quarter taped to a note card.  When I asked him about it, he told me that he had found it in the school atrium a few weeks ago and had been concerned about the student that lost it, so he turned it in to his teacher.

They gave it to the school office, which held on to it in case someone came looking for it.  When it was never claimed, they returned it to Taylor.

  

Now, a quarter found on the ground may not seem like a lot to you or me, but for Taylor it is some serious coin.  I was so proud of him that he would think of others before himself and turn it in.  After I told him as much and gave him a big hug and kiss he looked at me and added,

"I found a bouncy ball in the hall the other day and turned that in too...  but that one they haven't given back to me yet."

I'm grateful to hear of his small acts of honesty in the moments when no one is watching.  It does a mama proud.

- two -

Work on the temple site continues to move forward, with the construction offices and other preliminary tasks being completed.

Several weeks ago they put up this big green fence surrounding the grounds, which I have affectionately christened "the Bryson barrier."

For the last few months, Bryson had enjoyed driving his work truck onto the site and getting the inside scoop from the workers -- who happen to be from a sister company.  No longer.  He is pretty bummed about it, even though we knew it was an inevitability.

Work on the temple itself is scheduled to reconvene in earnest on the 16th, according to our stake president.  It's an exciting time.

- three -

I really enjoyed this editorial from the Huffington Post this week.

Written by Kara Gebhart Uhl, it's entitled "Apologies to the Parents I Judged Four Years Ago."

I love her take on how your perspective on parenting completely changes after you have children.  I know I am entirely guilty of having had a perfectionistic ideal of parenting prior to actually having children of my own.  When you are actually thrown into the throes of motherhood, however, reality hits hard. Suddenly you realize that some days just aren't going to go the way you'd like and you have to make peace with complete and utter imperfection.

I particularly enjoyed these thoughts of hers:

My day-to-day routine isn't what I envisioned it would be four years ago. Some of the things I imagine I'm judged on now are minor, others, a little more major. But mostly they are simple faults and I now know that they don't make me a bad parent. Sometimes I leave dirty diapers on the changing table. My children's socks don't always match. I forget to brush my daughter's hair. I use TV as a way to take a breather. I utilize the fast-food drive-thru. I bribe. I'm sometimes too easy. I'm sometimes too hard. I sometimes make the wrong decision, give the wrong punishment, ask too much, ask too little. But within all these minor and major faults is a singular truth: Most days, I'm doing the best I can. And I honestly believe that's a truth that can be applied to most parents: Most days, we're all doing the best we can.

- four -

Don't you just love the fashion sense of a five-year-old girl?

Reilly was able to go back to school this week, and yesterday was Grandparents' Day for their class.  My parents made the drive down from Cache Valley to attend with her this year, and Reilly wanted to be dressed to the nines for the big occasion.

This is what she came upstairs wearing.

In case you can't quite make out the entire ensemble, that's a bright teal shirt, pink/brown/white skirt, bright red and black checkered socks (with snowmen on them), and her gray Sketchers.  Oh, and her fake pearls-- keeping it classy.

It was so incredibly awesome.

If it had been a normal day here at home I probably would have let it go, but I figured a fashion intervention was probably best for our purposes that day.  Luckily, she was sufficiently impressed with my proposed modifications.

- five -

You may have heard on the news, but Oreo just celebrated its 100th birthday this week. 

Here at our house we're pretty healthy eaters-- mostly whole foods and all that.  But all six of us have a horrible weakness for the yummy sandwich cookies.

Growing up, Oreos were a way of life.  Every Saturday night we would have what my dad called "wild and crazy parties."  It was simply code for Oreo cookies and milk with the family.  To this day, it's not really a party at the Ensign house unless there are Oreos involved.

I'm pretty sure my sister could live off of them.

Happy Birthday, Oreo!
Thanks for the memories.


• • •

And those are my five things for the week!
Best wishes for a  wonderful spring weekend, everyone.

{five things xii}

- one -

I seriously woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

For a good two hours this morning I was grumpy and generally unpleasant to be around.  I have no idea why.  There was no cause for it.  Life is good.  And it's Friday to boot! 

Luckily, I had my Domino handy to turn my mood around.  There's nothing quite like the unpretentious enthusiasm of a dog to make you feel absolutely ridiculous for not embracing the day at full throttle. 

- two -

Bryson & I had a wonderful Valentine's week.  No flowers or chocolates or anything like that-- Bryson is actually a little anti-flowers on Valentine's because it's the "expected" thing to do, coupled with the fact that all the vendors raise their prices so drastically in response to the demand.  He prefers to surprise me with flowers on random occasions, "just because."  I'm totally on board with that. 

Instead, we had take-out on Valentine's Day from our favorite local Indian restaurant after the kids were put to bed and made a fancy night at home of it. 

Then on Friday evening we went out on our big date.  Bryson made reservations at Caffé Molise in downtown SLC, which is an amazing regional Italian restaurant.  The food was absolutely fantastic and the live jazz was wonderful as well. 

Afterward we walked the half block from the restaurant to Abravanel Hall to enjoy the Utah Symphony's performance of Beethoven's 4th Symphony and Rachmaninoff's 2nd Piano Concerto.  The Rach. 2 is one of my all-time favorites.  Although I must say that every time I listen to Rachmaninoff in general I feel a great need to practice the piano more often!  I can only dream to play like that. 

Classical music is so breathtaking live-- my favorite thing is the way the warmth of the lower strings (the cello and bass) wrap around you like a musical embrace.  Beethoven's 4th is a wonderful representative of that.  It's something completely lost when you listen to a recording.

I love that even though Bryson is utterly tone deaf and not particularly musically inclined, he loves going to the symphony.  Rock concerts and the like he could take or leave, but listening to a live orchestra is something he thoroughly enjoys.  I married well.

Thanks for a perfect evening, B.  I love you.  

- three -

Apparently, Monday was a Very Special Day.

It was Sheepie's 5th birthday.
(According to Reilly.)

There was a big to-do around here.
Taylor and Reilly spent the greater part of the afternoon getting everything ready.

Presents, party hats, colorful decorations.
Sheepie even had a party dress.

It's moments like these that I soak up, realizing that before I know it, the little sheep-toting Reilly that I know right now will be all grown up.

These are the moments I will miss so much.
Happy Birthday, Sheepie.

- four -

I had my 20-week ultrasound last Friday as well.
I was a little nervous going in, because I haven't felt much movement-- and after delivering four babies, I typically feel movement earlier and more frequently by this point than I have with this pregnancy.  With the ultrasound we learned that the reason for this is that the placenta is lying anterior to the baby, basically putting another barrier between him and my ability to feel movement.  Everything looks just fine, and that is a tremendous relief.

And, yes, it is a boy!!!!

To be honest, it really wasn't much of a surprise...  Even before we started trying for this pregnancy both Bryson and I had the strongest feeling that it was a little boy that would soon be joining our family.

We are so thrilled.
Well, everyone is-- except for Reilly.
She is a bit disheartened that the girls in our family are soon to be outnumbered.
She brightened up a bit, however, when I reminded her how much she loves the brothers she has now. 

- five -

This Sunday I am teaching a lesson in Relief Society based on Elder Andersen's Conference address on children.

It was my favorite discourse from our most recent General Conference.  I think it is an important talk, with so much that is timely and worth thoughtful consideration.  When I received the assignment, I was really excited.  Now after several weeks of careful study, I am struggling a bit.

In our ward there are women of all backgrounds and situations-- some that have never married, some that have not been able to have children, some that have not been able to have the number of children that they have wanted to have for various reasons.  I fear that there might even be a few that may take offense to the idea that motherhood and having children is a true blessing and an ennobling calling.  It seems that our LDS culture has shifted away from large families.  I've been hearing a lot that for many modern Mormon moms "three is the new six."

Now, I know family size is a deeply personal matter between spouses and the Lord.  The number of children a couple has is most definitely not an accurate measure of how righteous they are.  But I wonder at some of those flippant comments when I hear them.

I know that the Spirit will help guide me as I sort through my lesson material. I'd love to hear any thoughts you might have on the subject as well.  I know there are minds out there that are infinitely superior to mine.  :)

• • •

Those are my five things for Friday!
Have a wonderful weekend, everyone.

An Unexpected Romance

In the late months of 1999, while the world was busy worrying about the impending computer apocalypse, I was preparing myself for a complete overhaul of my own life's trajectory.  After several semesters of study at BYU, I had made the difficult decision to change majors-- and schools-- to a program that was only offered at Utah State.

This was a move that took me completely out of my comfort zone.  I am definitely not a creature that craves change, and here I was leaving the familiar for a step in the dark.  But after some difficult and trying times in Provo-- including an on-again-off-again battle with crippling depression-- I was ready for a new chapter.

And so it was that while I was unpacking my things into my new dorm room, alone on a cold January day, two boys walked into my apartment looking for my roommates.  One of the two struck me as decidedly off-putting.  Shaved head.  Goatee.  In fact, he hardly spoke more than a couple of words directly to me before withdrawing completely from the conversation.  Bryson.  Let's just say our first meeting was not what you might describe as auspicious.  He was rough, reserved, and estranged from anything spiritually related.  I was doubtful that we would ever become friends, much less anything more.

But we did become friends.

At first it was little more than a back-and-forth banter that was certain to arise every time we were in the same room together.  Over time, however, the banter became warmer and a bit more playful as we began to understand one another better.

He discovered that I wasn't just some self-righteous Zoobie out to judge him by appearances.
I discovered that his rough demeanor was merely a defense mechanism built up over time, due to a life full of what can mildly be called "hard knocks."

Walls that had been meticulously crafted began to open up and crumble.

Our friendship continued to deepen after I had my heart broken, beaten, and shattered by a boy I thought I was going to marry.  Ironically, that person had appeared to be perfect for me in every way.

Appearances can be so terribly deceiving.

But I found a listening ear in Bryson.  I opened my heart to him, sharing hopes and fears with him that I hadn't dared speak to anyone else.  I told him of my dark battles with depression, of my spiritual struggles.  He confided in me about his past-- heart-wrenching experiences, that brought a whole new level of understanding to my eyes.  He became my best friend.  He was my confidant, my comfort, my rock.

And then one night he kissed me.

You would think that this might be a good thing, but the next morning I woke up slightly panic-stricken.

This had not been the plan.  I did not want to ruin a perfectly good friendship with the complications of a rebound romance.  After all, that's all it was, wasn't it?  That's what all my friends thought, anyway.  On the surface, we seemed such polar opposites that our relationship was most certainly doomed.  It would never work.  That's what people said.

But Bryson knew better.
He knew long before I did.
Thank heavens he is a patient man.

And over the course of time, I watched as he transformed before my eyes.  The jaded and cynical person I had first met simply didn't exist anymore.  The real Bryson, sincere and compassionate, emerged.  A deeply personal spiritual experience restored his faith in a loving God.  There was a light that returned to his eyes.

We grew closer and closer over time, and he never gave up on me.  It wasn't until he left to work a summer job in Moab, many hours away, that I felt his loss acutely.  I began to recognize my feelings for what they were.  And on a day trip to Arches National Park that summer with him, I finally admitted to myself that I was hopelessly in love.

Absolutely hopeless.

After that summer apart, there were few moments that we weren't together.  I discovered what it was like to truly love and be loved in return.  He flew out to Chicago to visit me.  We saw the sights of the city, and traveled to Nauvoo with my family.  And soon after, on a beautiful evening in late September at the old amphitheater on Old Main Hill, Bryson proposed.  Cradled in the shadow of the Utah State campus where we had first met; with the beauty of the Logan Temple and the Wellsville Mountains before us.  It couldn't have been more perfect.     

We were married on a blustery spring morning in the Chicago Temple nearly ten years ago.  And, as most good love stories end, we have lived happily ever after.  Which is not to say that everything in our lives has been perfect.  It hasn't.  We have had our share of trials and difficulties.  But through it all, our love for one another has never been in question.  And it, along with our faith, has always seen us through.

That's the wonderful thing about marrying your best friend.

Through thick and thin, our love has only continued to grow for one another.  Not a day goes by that I don't stop and express my gratitude to God that our paths were led to one another on that cold January day so long ago.  And how the journey we have taken together has shaped and molded us into the people we are today. 

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life, for which the first was made:

Our times are in His hand

Who saith "A whole I planned,

Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!'' 

- Robert Browning

Here's to the next ten years, and beyond.

I adore you, Bryson.

 

• • •

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

What is your love story?  Share it with us and link up your post!

in case of emergency

Thwack!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, I have to confess that in being the mom to four little ones ages six and under, this is a sound I hear with somewhat frequent regularity.

But this time, there was nothing regular about the cry that followed.

I whipped around from the counter where I had been preparing our Sunday dinner to see that Dani had tipped herself over while standing on a kitchen chair.  I hurried over to comfort her, but stopped suddenly when I saw the blood.  A small pool forming.

For a brief moment I began to panic, but quickly forced myself back into my head again.

I snatched her up, cradling her close, and examined her face-- where I had assumed the blood was coming from.

Nothing.
I started scanning the rest of her body for injury.

It was then I saw her right hand.
Her middle finger appeared mangled to my eye and was bleeding heavily.
It must have been crushed between the chair and the hard kitchen floor in the fall.

Unfortunately, Taylor saw it at the same moment I did.
He immediately started to freak out.
"Oh, Dani!  Oh, poor Dani! Oh baby girl, I'm so sorry! Mom!  Mom! Help her, help her, Mom!"

A deep breath.
Honestly, I wanted to react in the very same way my six-year-old was.
I tried to push the panic back down, channeled my inner lifeguard, and attempted to call for Bryson without the obvious anxiety creeping in my voice.
I was entirely unsuccessful.

Thankfully, Bryson could be counted on to remain calm in an emergency situation.  He scooped Dani up, and applied firm, direct pressure to her finger with his hand while I found the closest thing that sort of resembled gauze: paper napkins.

After applying pressure for a minute or two, he examined her finger more closely.
He looked at me.
"Hey, Tiff, look at this for a sec."

I told him I didn't think that was a good idea at the moment.

"I can't tell how deeply it's cut," he explained, "but I think it's clear she needs a doctor."

Taking her to the ER was definitely a two person job-- one to drive, and the other to continue applying pressure to her injured finger.  I quickly called the first person that came to mind-- my sainted visiting teacher and friend, Kim, who came over immediately to tend to the kids while Bryson and I sped off to take Dani to the hospital.

A few x-rays and an examination revealed that she had a broken finger, a lacerated nail bed, and a partial nail avulsion.  Basically, part of her fingernail had been dislodged from underneath the skin and cuticle and needed to be put back where it belonged.  (Yes, that information gave me the shivers too.)

But our sweet baby girl was a trooper.
Although there were many tears shed (and not a few by her anxious mommy!) she was content to simply be held by her daddy and did not need to be restrained.  I was so grateful for a kind and understanding hospital staff that attended to her needs with compassion and professionalism.

And soon we were on our way home again, armed with supplies to keep Dani's finger immobilized for the next four weeks and antibiotics to help prevent infection.  Within a month or so, she should be completely healed.

The unexpected crisis is simply one of those things in life that is sure to pop up every once in awhile.  Just to keep things interesting.  It arrives in different guises, be it physical, emotional, spiritual.  I have experienced all of the above.

When the moment of crisis comes, the most important thing to remember is to stay calm, and not panic.  In the heat of the moment, this is often easier said than done.  But in remaining calm, we allow ourselves to act with greater intention, with less risk of error.

With calmness comes a greater learning experience, as we proceed through the emergency.  We gain wisdom and the ability to come through the other side of the crisis stronger than we were before.

And one thing I have definitely learned through it all:
We are stronger than we know. 

of things that matter most

"Huh."

At his outburst, I looked over at Bryson, who was sorting through some incoming emails he had recently received.

Seeing my quizzical look, he quickly elaborated.

"It looks like I just won a pair of tickets to the Jazz-Kings game."

We were both excited about the good luck that had come to us.  A night out on the town sounded like a great idea to me.  After a chaotic last month, a fun date night in the city seemed like just the ticket.  Then, scanning the rest of the information, he suddenly stopped.

"Oh.  Well, that's not going to work."

The upcoming game was scheduled for Saturday night.
The very same evening as Reilly's dance academy's production of Alice in Wonderland.   

I studied his reaction, wondering how he would take the news.
But there was not even a moment's hesitation before he made up his mind as to what he would do.

"Well, I think I'll give them to the Hyers.  They're really big Jimmer fans, after all.  I bet they would have a great time at the game."

And that was that.  

Saturday evening came, and found Bryson sitting not in the Energy Solutions Arena, but in our small town's high school auditorium.  While the NBA pros battled it out on the court, he was otherwise occupied-- watching the cutest little bunny in all of Wonderland perform her little heart out.

Reilly never knew that her daddy had chosen her over the free tickets.  And really, there was no need.  Because, in Bryson's mind, there was only one real choice to be made.  Nothing was more important than his little girl.  She was the star worth seeing.

I've thought a lot about his simple, easy decision over the weekend, and every time I do I have been filled with such a deepened love for this wonderful man I am blessed to walk beside each and every day.  When I married him, I didn't think there was any possible way I could love him more.

I was wrong.  So very wrong.

I am so grateful to have such a man as the father to our children.
In my opinion, attending a little girl's ballet recital was the very definition of true manhood.

Later that evening after the recital, I found Bryson listening to the final minutes of the game on the radio.

"So," I asked, "are you disappointed you couldn't be there tonight?"

He smiled.

"I was exactly where I wanted to be tonight."

True manhood, indeed.

Fresh Courage Take

I've been going through a rough patch lately.

And the funny thing is, I didn't even really realize it until about a week and a half ago.

I've been stuck in survival mode for so long that it wasn't until I started chatting with friends at church that it suddenly started spilling out of me.  And the dam completely burst.  Everything that had been pushed down and held back to keep everything on an even keel came bubbling up without warning.

The sickness.
The exhaustion.
The inability to do everything that needs doing.
The stress over Reilly's illness.

Oh, the stress, the stress, the stress.

Add to this a healthy dose of pregnancy hormones and you can imagine what life has been like this week.
Poor Bryson. 
I really am profoundly lucky to have such a man in my life.

Yesterday he found me sobbing on our bed, as I finally yielded to the emotional tidal wave that had washed ashore.

He simply sat next to me while gently rubbing my back, and then said those magical words that every pregnant woman longs to hear.

"You look like you could use a chocolate shake."

Today, I am doing better, but am feeling rather depleted.
Not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well.

It really has been a rough month.

But as I've recognized the situation for what it is, I am glad.  Now the only thing that remains is to work through it.  And though at times I can feel so alone, I know that is not the case.  I have friends, family, and a chocolate shake-wielding husband to pull me along.  And more than that, I have my dearest Friend and Savior to carry me through the darkest days.  That alone is reason to rejoice.

I love this reminder from President Thomas S. Monson:

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," Conference Report, April 2004)

So, here I go again.
Resolving to recommit.
To persevere.

I can do hard things.
All is well.
All is well.

Prince Charming

When I was younger, I had definite ideas about my future husband.

He would be tall.
And charming.
And musical.

Definitely musical.

He would be an Eagle Scout.
A returned missionary.

Someone with a dynamic personality.

Outgoing.
Sociable.

So imagine my surprise when I fell in love with someone who was quiet, reserved, and tone deaf.

Completely tone deaf. 

He was an Eagle Scout, but had not served a mission-- at least not in the traditional sense.

But as time went by, that checklist which I had thought to be so very important didn't matter much anymore.

To me, he was charming.
For me, he was perfect.

It is almost twelve years to the day when we first met-- seemingly total opposites from completely different walks of life.

Although to see us today, one would scarcely believe that.

On this day, I stand in awe of where this journey has taken us.

I watch you as you tenderly care for our children with a deep and abiding love.
Looking on as they gaze up at you with their eyes full of trust and complete adoration.

I marvel as you humbly serve those around you, as you try to emulate our Lord and Savior.
Inspiring me by your example to do a little better and be a little better in my own life.

And perhaps greatest of all, I watch in amazement as you continue to love me even more today than you did way back then-- despite all my glaring faults and shortcomings.

For that, I have no words with which to express my eternal gratitude and devotion.

I love you more than I could possibly say.

Happy Birthday, Bryson.

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.

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) 

{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!

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! 

Repost: Small and Simple Things

This is a post I originally wrote in September of 2009.
Reilly had recently turned three, and I was just a few weeks pregnant with my twins.
It will be a familiar story to those of you who know my family, but even two years later, it still clearly articulates my thoughts on faith and receiving answers to prayer.

• • • 

Truly, God answers prayers.
And not just the big ones.

One of my personal goals in life is to rely more on my Heavenly Father and to understand more fully the promptings of the Spirit.

It is most definitely a work in progress.

I have learned to act on certain feelings and impressions I have concerning friends and family-- although I wouldn't have necessarily considered them inspiration at the time-- and through these experiences have become increasingly aware that the Holy Ghost speaks to our hearts much more often than we might think.

Over the past few months I have tried to seek out a little more time for quiet meditation-- to turn off the TV, computer, music (that is a tough one for me!) and just reflect. I'm not always consistent with it, and I'm definitely not great at it, but over time it has made a considerable difference in my life.

This year there have been a lot of things to pray about on the grand scale. A dying friend. A newborn nephew's struggles. A beloved aunt having heart surgery. A favorite uncle suffering a horrible spiral break of his arm. A sister getting married. A horseback riding accident that seriously injured my mom.

It is easy to pray when the heavy trials of life come knocking.

Our faith tells us that God will hear our prayers during these times of adversity.
But-- for me at least-- sometimes it is difficult to remember that God stands ready to answer all our prayers.

Even the seemingly insignificant ones.

Last week we had the misfortune of Sheepie going missing again.
(Yes, again.)

It was late.
I was not feeling well and was completely drained of all energy.

Reilly was beside herself with grief for her missing friend, and Bryson could not find her anywhere despite his extensive search efforts both within and outside the house. He crashed on the couch, telling me that he simply couldn't look anymore.

There was nothing left in the tank.

He put Reilly to bed without Sheepie, and she continued to cry inconsolably in her room. I knew we would be in for a long night if we were unable to locate her. To complicate matters further, the next day promised to be long and hectic even without a broken night's sleep.

Not finding Sheepie just wasn't an option this night.

Feeling slightly silly but not knowing what other options we had, I took to my knees.
I prayed for the insight to find Sheepie.

Afterward, I got to my feet and instantly knew she was in Bryson's & my room somewhere. I had felt that impression previously, but now the thought was all-consuming. I knew she was in our room. I walked in our bedroom and immediately my eyes were drawn to Bryson's laptop briefcase. I couldn't help laughing to myself as I unzipped one of the compartments and rescued the poor, trapped Sheepie.

It was just so like Reilly to put her in a small zippered compartment (purses are actually one of her favorite hiding spots), but we would have never checked the laptop case in a million years. The kids *never* touch it. We had walked past it several times in our previous searches.

After that evening, I pretty much learned my lesson.

Our Heavenly Father is mindful of us, and knows our needs-- even the small heartfelt desires of a little child. So when the same thing happened just a couple nights later, my faith was already in place. After we did all that we could do, I said another simple prayer on Reilly's behalf.

However, this time I didn't get an impression of where Sheepie was; only that I needed to do a load of laundry. Tired and grumpy, I had no desire to do laundry-- and did not grasp the concept that my stray thought just might be related to the ongoing search for Sheepie.

We went to bed. Just after midnight, I awoke to Reilly's cry for her beloved friend. She went back to sleep on her own after a couple minutes, but I was left wide awake. I could not sleep. After deciding that lying in the dark staring at the ceiling was pretty pointless, I got up. I decided to get that load of laundry in the washer while I was at it. After the cycle was over, I opened up the washer, and much to my chagrin discovered Sheepie right on top of the clothing. I still have no idea when or how she arrived at that location.

Faith isn't something that has come easily to me all the time. I have a tendency to over-think, over-analyze, and rationalize that my emotions are just messing around with me. I wish I were more like Bryson, whose faith is an unshakable gift. I have difficulty not knowing all the answers to the questions that perplex me. It has taken practice to let go of that and simply hold on to the seed of faith.

I have a deeper appreciation for the words of Alma in the Book of Mormon:

Now, as I said concerning faith—that it was not a perfect knowledge—even so it is with my words. Ye cannot know of their surety at first, unto perfection, any more than faith is a perfect knowledge.

But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words. 

Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.
 (Alma 32: 26-28)


In today's society, it can be easy to dismiss God as an active participant in our lives. Some even doubt whether He exists at all. Religion is rejected as merely the opiate of the masses, and spiritual experience is believed to be nothing but a series of chemical reactions in the brain. However, I truly believe if even the smallest part of you wants to believe in Him-- if you work at it-- you can feel His continual presence in your life. Faith will replace doubt, and His love will flood every aspect of your life. Even the small and simple parts.


Take it from someone who's been there.

• • •

To learn more about the Book of Mormon, please visit this website. 

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