{ten things for friday • xxix}

If you've been on social media lately, you may have seen the "Ten Book Challenge" that's currently making the rounds. The general gist of it is to make a list of ten books that have stayed with you over time-- not to over-think it, but name the first ten that come to mind. They don't have to be necessarily "great" works of literary art-- that term alone gives me flashbacks to Dr. J. Evans Pritchard, PhD. They simply have to be great in the way that they have influenced your life.

I was challenged by my good friend and fellow Downers Grove South H.S. alumna Julie Miller, and being a passionate bibliophile took her up on it. Without thinking too much about it, I listed my ten. Soon after, my friend Lisa expressed an interest as to why I chose the works that I did, so I told her I'd do a write-up of my reasons.

And here we are.

1. The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein

When I first read this story as a young child, I hated it. I totally didn't get it, and thought that the tree was incredibly foolish for letting the boy walk all over her (it?). Why on earth would she be happy being used in such a way? Ugh. No thank you. Move along; nothing to see here.

But. Over time I grew to appreciate this little tale as my own experience of love and relationships grew and developed. Whether you read Silverstein's parable as an allegory of a parent-child relationship, or perhaps a metaphor of God's unconditional love-- this children's story is timeless and poignant.

2. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Another book that I first read as a girl, this book is one of the reasons I love gardening so very much. The idea of the hidden garden, full of mystery and romance was incredibly influential to me.

Aside from that though, the major theme of love as the great healing agent rings so true to me personally. That people can change, walls can come down, and when we look past outward appearances and snap judgments that we see the wonderful and lovely humanity in all of us.

(As a side note-- I spent the morning before I made this list working in my garden. After the fact, I mused that had I spent the morning writing I probably would have picked a different book in its stead-- Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Jo March was one of my girlhood heroes. Either way, both novels have impacted me greatly.)

3. One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp

Part poetry, part memoir, Voskamp's book has created a movement in the Christian world. Her challenge to find gratitude even in the midst of darkness has provided me with much to reflect upon.

As a writer, I am inspired by her signature blend of expressing faith-filled topics with a grace and lyrical style that is more than just liturgy. Rather, her words are art.

As a reader, I am moved to find beauty in all the little moments-- God-winks in all their myriad shapes and sizes.

4. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

I have a huge love of 19th century English literature, and love all the greats of that era. Austen, Dickens, the Brontës, Hardy. But when forced to choose just one from the genre, I pick the slightly more obscure North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. Think similar themes to Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, but a little more brooding ambience and greater social commentary.  

In fact, awhile back I dedicated an entire post to my kinship to the novel's hero, Margaret Hale.

Throw in a fabulous BBC adaptation of Gaskell's work (Richard Armitage as Thornton? Shut the front door.), and its place is firmly secured on my list. 

5. The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner

Just mention the title of this classic to me and suddenly I'm back sitting in my senior year English honors class at Downers South with the immortal Richard Connaughton. Hands down the most challenging work I studied in high school, it opened my eyes to the power of words to pick you up, swirl around you like a tornado, and leave you utterly changed. 

The stream-of-consciousness style explored in the first section of the novel was like nothing I had ever experienced, and as I threw myself into Benjy Compson's world for the first time, the power of Faulker's method on my young mind was intense. 

6. The Lorax by Dr. Seuss

I had a bit of an internal tug-of-war on this one, trying to choose between The Lorax and The Sneetches. Ultimately, our friend the lifted lorax won out.

I've always felt a deep connection to the earth, and have pretty strong opinions about our God-given stewardship of this beautiful world we call home. Obviously then, the environmental themes resonate with me. It's also a favorite story of my budding ecologist, nine-year-old Taylor.

But just as much, I love the idea that even when everything seems dark and lost, there is still hope for the future. Things can change if we have the courage to be the good in the world. I adore that Seuss' tale ends on that hopeful note. 

7. A Quiet Heart by Patricia T. Holland

A book that I reread at least once every year, it's probably the single most quoted work here on my blog. Of all the wonderful, strong female writers of my faith, Sister Holland's words have influenced me the very most. (And if you know how much I love other strong Mormon women like Sheri Dew, Valerie Hudson, and Julie Beck, that's saying a great deal!)

My parents gave me this book for my birthday during a particularly difficult time in my life, and I'm forever grateful that they did. It will make you laugh, ponder, and inspire you to deepen your trust and relationship with God.

8. The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis

I picked this of Lewis' canon, though I could have populated this entire list with just his works. Narnia, The Screwtape Letters, Mere Christianity-- all pivotal and precious books in my library. But I picked The Great Divorce because of the way it has spoken to me personally. 

I was first introduced to this more obscure work of Lewis' by my favorite religion professor at BYU, Richard Draper. The influence of St. Augustine, Milton, Dante, Blake, and George MacDonald mix beautifully alongside the signature Lewis wisdom and wit mix to create a thought-provoking, fantastic tale.

9. The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

This book has left its footprints on my heart for so many reasons. It reminds me to always consider the important things in life. And that the important things aren't always what we'd immediately consider as an adult in the modern world. It asks the reader to reconsider exactly what true matters of consequence are, and look at life with more childlike eyes. One of my favorite quotes of all time comes from its pages: "One sees clearly only with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye."

Also, on a slightly more personal note, my mom gave a copy to my dad of this book as an engagement present. I've always thought that was such a lovely and sweet gift. Consequently, I had a lot of meaningful one-on-one talks about "matters of consequence" growing up. :)

10. Sacred Writ, including but not limited to the Bible and the Book of Mormon

Such a list would not be complete-- nor accurate-- without the inclusion of Scripture. Something I am given to reading every single day, these sacred books have had a very real and profound influence in who I am today. 

The teachings of Jesus Christ are collectively the singular lodestar of my life. I love Him and worship Him as the Master Teacher and Savior of the world. Because of Him I have experienced peace that passes all understanding. (See Philippians 4:7)

• • •

So, there you go, Lisa! Probably way more than you ever wanted to know on the subject, but it was a fun exercise for me to revisit exactly why these were the works that came immediately to my mind at this time in my life. I think you learn a lot about a person by the books one might put on their "Top Ten."

What would you put on yours?

the broken beautiful

Last December I read a fascinating article about the Japanese art of Kintsugi (also referred to as Kintsukuroi)-- which is the tradition of fixing broken pottery with a kind of lacquer resin that is typically mixed with precious metals to create something even more beautiful.

The image of something shattered and broken being made whole and even more valuable has spoken to me over and over ever since. Scarcely a day has gone by that I haven't pondered on that thought.

You see, even from my earliest moments I have had the intense desire to succeed in life. I remember as a child being so excited for everything life would bring. I was going to seize each and every day, and do it perfectly.

I wanted to move mountains.
In fact, if you would have asked me at age 4 what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have even told you in complete seriousness that I was going to be a "mountain climber."

Top of the world, here she comes.
Except.

Little by little my own weaknesses and imperfections began to discourage me. Each mistake made, every misstep inescapably taken, chipped away at my self confidence and unbridled enthusiasm. I became anxious and terrified of failure.

In all outward appearances I tried to keep things together, until everything came crashing down on top of me in the form of a decade-long battle with severe, crippling depression that began my freshman year of college.

Because if you chip away at anything long enough, eventually its structural integrity becomes compromised.

Even then, I stayed in complete denial for far too long and hurt far too many people in the aftermath. I never could admit that I needed help.

Not me.
I could do this.
Until I couldn't.
And at the bottom of it all, I did not even recognize myself anymore. 

It wasn't until I threw all of the broken shards of my hardened heart on the altar and invited the Savior to rescue me from myself that things gradually began to change.

Today I am actually thankful for the experience I went through, because of the countless lessons I learned along the way-- as well as the deepened well of empathy for others I have gained. Yet there are times that the tiny perfectionist in my head starts berating me for all the ways I have fallen short through the years. The time that I will never get back. The moments where I totally blew it.

This is when I remind myself of Kintsugi.
And Romans 8:28.

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God.

In her signature insightful way, Sister Patricia Holland related her first experience while reading those sacred words:

I don't know exactly how old I was, maybe fourteen or fifteen years of age, when I learned this truth. I only remember being old enough to think I had made too many mistakes in my life to be of any use to anybody... It was at that age—maybe fifteen—that I read for the first time in my life Romans 8:28, "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God." I was struck dumb for a minute. Speechless! I remember that moment as if it were locked in time...

With my hands gripping the scriptures, I remember sort of looking up and saying, "Heavenly Father, do you mean that everything that I have ever done, silly or not, good or bad, happy or sad, will come together for my good if I—just love you?" I was incredulous. I can't tell you the joy that filled my heart. At fifteen I hadn't had too many such moments with what really was pure and beautiful revelation. The whole thing was wonderful. I already knew that I loved God; I just didn't know how deeply until that moment. And at that very moment, at that very instant, I knew that God loved me. I didn't know everything I needed to be forgiven of but I felt forgiven.

That moment in my life convinced me I could rise above sorrows or disappointments or mistakes or despair. I felt that day that God was an artist. He would use the very stone of my plain, even pitiful, little life, and refashion it, producing something far more redeeming and substantial.
(Holland, Patricia. "God's Covenant of Peace" 1999 BYU Women's Conference) 

Indeed, He is an artist.
He takes the broken and makes it beautiful.




So if you find yourself discouraged along your path, wondering if you could ever rise from the ashes of fractured dreams and crumbled expectations, take heart.

Brad Wilcox once related a personal story from his time serving as a mission president in Chile, counseling  a missionary who struggled with mistakes in his past. The young elder explained, "President, I look back and see so many flaws. I remember all I have done and feel so ashamed and hypocritical. I know Jesus takes the sins away, but it is the memory of them that bothers me."

Brother Wilcox continued:

Remembering an analogy I had heard years earlier... I went to a nearby shelf and retrieved a marble egg that had been set there for decoration. I said, "Look at the marble. Isn't it beautiful?"

The elder nodded in agreement.

"What makes it beautiful is not that it is free from imperfections... The marble is beautiful and useful because of of the dark veins, not in spite of them. When we repent, our sins are gone, but the memories linger, just like these dark lines. However, as we keep our covenants and experience the sanctifying influence of the Spirit, it is as if those dark lines are polished over time. They actually become part of our beauty."

I testified to this young missionary, "One day when you stand before Christ, you too will be beautiful-- just like the marble-- not because you have no dark, jagged memories in your mind, but literally because you do, and because through repentance... you are willing to let Christ and the Holy Ghost sanctify and polish them.
(Wilcox, Brad. The Continuous Atonement. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2009. Kindle file.)

So, when you feel that you don't bring a lot to the table, remember just how beautiful you are in the eyes of the One who sacrificed all to bring you Home.

He won't merely put the pieces back together again.
Carefully and lovingly, He will transform you into something greater.
You are His masterpiece.

Drop by Drop

The day after Mother's Day.

A morning in which we awaken after a day of praise and adulation and get back to work as usual. A day when we can't help but compare our lives to the idealized portrayals lauded from pulpits and Hallmark cards across the country.  A time when we try our best to take the compliments and roll with it, while wondering in our heart of hearts if we're really doing enough to deserve it.

Because in the real world it's easy to feel that you aren't doing enough. That the seemingly small efforts we give daily simply aren't enough. And in the darkest of hours perhaps you've wondered if you yourself are even "enough."

It is one of the great lies of our time-- that who we are is not enough. In a world of Pinterest perfection, patient perseverance is underappreciated.

We forget that it is through small and simple things that great things are brought to pass. That small means in many instances confounds the wisdom of the so-called experts and lifestyle gurus. (See Alma 37:6)

Little things do count.

Sister Patricia T. Holland tells the story of her great-grandmother, who after having grown up residing in the majestic beauty of the Bern-Interlaken region of Switzerland, joined the Latter-Day Saints. After immigrating to the United States and traveling westward to be with the body of the Church, they were called to settle the tiny community of Enterprise in Southern Utah.

Now while there is a certain kind of beauty to be found in the desert, it is certainly no Switzerland. I would imagine that being called to leave a perfect picture-postcard locale to make one's home in a barren, windblown desert would be quite a trial of faith.

Sister Holland relates:

My great-grandmother decided she would do something about it. With her two hands and a shovel, she harvested some small pine seedlings from the mountains not far away and planted them around the small church building that had just been erected. Then every day she would carry two buckets of water from her home nearly three blocks away, one bucket in each hand, to water those trees and keep them growing. It was arduous work for a little woman bent over with osteoporosis, but she made every drop count in a daily ritual that over time gave each tree a regular, if meager, drink of moisture.

As she made her way through town to water the pines, she would often bring her young granddaughter with her, sharing wisdom and tales of her life growing up in Switzerland. On one such trip, one of the brethren of the community stopped her, wondering after her seemingly futile endeavor.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, husband to Patricia and a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, continues her story:

[The gentleman] said, with something of a dismissive tone, "Oh, Sister Barlocker, why do you make this useless journey each day to water those scrubby little pine trees? They will never survive in this harsh climate and difficult soil, and even if they did, they will never grow to any size in your lifetime. Why don't you just give up and forget your high Swiss hopes in this matter?"

Well, little Sister Barlocker rose to the full 4 feet 8 inches of her stature, looked this good brother in the eye and said, "I know these trees will not grow very large in my lifetime. But if I stay with it, they will live and they will grow. And although I will not enjoy their beauty and their shade, this little girl will. I am doing this for her." 

The little girl alongside this good woman in the story was Sister Holland's mother. And though her grandmother would pass on, she and the entire community of Enterprise would live to see the pine trees grow, and grow, and grow-- until they literally towered over the small town. To this day they stand-- a memorial to a mother and grandmother's love and diligence.
(Holland, Jeffrey R. and Patricia T. "What Time is This?" Brigham Young University Women's Conference. Provo, UT. 4 May, 2007.) 

Just last month our family traveled through Enterprise on our way to Snow Canyon State Park in Southern Utah. We stopped at the old chapel, now a museum for the Daughters of Utah Pioneers and enjoyed our lunch in the shade of those magnificent hundred-year-old pines. As I considered them, I was deeply impressed with just how far-reaching the small actions of our simple lives can be. 

In the trenches of motherhood, there are days and weeks where it may seem that our earnest efforts are feeble and fruitless. The mountains seem too high and the valleys too steep. We labor through exhaustion and discouragement, wondering if we will ever see the end results we yearn for.

Perhaps there are moments when we wonder if we are up to the task.
If we are the right person for such a work and time as this.
If we could ever possibly be "enough."

But you and I are enough and more. For God is with us, and with Him nothing is impossible. (Luke 1:37) He fills in the gaps, brings light to the darkness, and strengthens our aching backs as we struggle to nourish the tiny saplings of our lives.

With Him, it is always "enough."

I loved what Sister Linda S. Reeves had to say in her most recent Conference talk:

I love the prophet Nephi’s declaration of what his people did to fortify the youth of his day: “We talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, [and] we prophesy of Christ … that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.”

How can we do this in our homes? Some of you have heard me tell how overwhelmed my husband, Mel, and I felt as the parents of four young children. As we faced the challenges of parenting and keeping up with the demands of life, we were desperate for help. We prayed and pleaded to know what to do. The answer that came was clear: “It is OK if the house is a mess and the children are still in their pajamas and some responsibilities are left undone. The only things that really need to be accomplished in the home are daily scripture study and prayer and weekly family home evening.”

We were trying to do these things, but they were not always the priority and, amidst the chaos, were sometimes neglected. We changed our focus and tried not to worry about the less-important things. Our focus became to talk, rejoice, preach, and testify of Christ by striving to daily pray and study the scriptures and have weekly family home evening. 

A friend recently cautioned, “When you ask the sisters to read the scriptures and pray more, it stresses them out. They already feel like they have too much to do.

Brothers and sisters, because I know from my own experiences, and those of my husband, I must testify of the blessings of daily scripture study and prayer and weekly family home evening. These are the very practices that help take away stress, give direction to our lives, and add protection to our homes. Then, if... challenges do strike our families, we can petition the Lord for help and expect great guidance from the Spirit, knowing that we have done what our Father has asked us to do.

It's not about the extras. It's about the essentials.
With that as our focus, we will never fail-- messy, chaotic imperfection and all.

And what a beautiful mess it is.

an anthem & an education

You call me out upon the waters

The great unknown

Where feet may fail

And there I find you in the mystery

In oceans deep

My faith will stand

Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand

Will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You’ve never failed

And you won’t start now

Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever you would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior

So I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise

My soul will rest in your embrace

For I am Yours

And You are mine

Oceans, Hillsong United

 •  •  •

It is interesting to me how life’s experiences take on greater clarity in hindsight. Lessons illuminated and patterns perceived through the active process of reflection. The last year has been an education for me. By traversing the rocky peaks and darkened valleys I have learned a lot about myself, my family, and my God.

I have been able to make peace with my imperfect past, find strength where I previously only thought weakness existed, and recognize just how God can turn all things to our good. That beauty can rise up from ashes.

In short, I’m feeling very content with where my life is headed and who I am gradually becoming. Through the grace of my Savior, I have felt a transformation.
A shifting.
A healing.

Two months ago, Professor Jonathan G. Sandberg delivered a moving devotional at BYU that has touched my heart. He entitled it "Healing = Courage + Action + Grace." I highly recommend it, no matter where you find yourself on life's journey. Healing is the process of a lifetime. In his wonderfully extensive endnotes, Dr. Sandberg relates a story that President Boyd K. Packer shared in the fireside address, "The Edge of the Light." 

The then-Elder Packer has just been sustained and found himself in need of counsel. In his search for answers, he found himself willing to be obedient but realistically could not see how on earth he could accomplish what he was being led to do. Discouraged, Elder Packer spoke with Elder Harold B. Lee, who counseled, "The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning." Elder Packer admitted that he would at least like to see a step or two ahead.

What followed was a lesson that followed President Packer throughout his life: Elder Lee explained, "You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you."   

This has been my experience as well. The fear of the unknown, the desire to know what lies ahead-- these are things that have troubled me all my life.

I kind of have control issues. 

But little by little, I am growing more comfortable with those tentative steps into the darkness. 

Because my Savior has never failed me. And He won't start now.

Faith is really one of those things that can only be truly gained experientially. 

How grateful I have become for the experience!

Frozen Blossoms

In the early spring of this year, we had a span of beautiful, mild weather. The sun came out, the snow melted.  After a harsh winter, it was welcome balm to the soul. Celebrating the change in season with great fanfare, my beloved apricot trees exploded into full blossom. Tensions eased, and I relaxed into a peaceful enjoyment of the season.

But it was not to last.

Irritated that we would dismiss it so quickly, Winter reared its angry head and came roaring back with a vengeance.

In a way, it seemed fitting.

The past year has been filled with ups and downs, twists and turns. Our family has enjoyed moments of serenity and calm, only to shift abruptly into confusion and chaos. Such is life when two of your children are diagnosed with special needs.

And so it was that the return of winter found me with my face pressed up against the glass of our sliding door to the backyard, glaring at the icy storm front headed our way. After all the emotional turmoil I had been through, watching my apricots freeze for a third straight year seemed like the final straw, in a childish, silly way. As the snow began to fly, I said an even more childish prayer-- although it did not seem so frivolous at the time. It went something like this.

Dear Heavenly Father, I am really struggling right now. I feel like my world is unraveling right before my eyes, and I don't know what to do. I really need to feel You near, and I really need to feel Thy love. Please... please, if it is not against Thy will, will You please let some of my apricots survive this year? I know it is a silly request, and not a great matter of consequence, but right now life is breaking my heart. Please, even if just one apricot would be saved... But in all things, let Thy will be done. It's just... you know, if it's not opposed to Thy great plan... please?

And with that, I moved away from the glass and let it go.
The temperatures plummeted, the snow and icy hail blew.
My blossoms froze.
Again and again. Over and over.
I sighed and moved on. It was a pretty silly request, after all.

Honestly, afterward I didn't give it much thought until midsummer, when Bryson came into the house after working in the yard. He had a quizzical look on his face, and as I was about to ask him what was wrong he opened up his hand. In it there was a single-- slightly green-- apricot.

"I just found this on the ground as I was mowing," he explained. "I don't know how it survived all the spring freezes, but somehow it did."

Suddenly the words of my little prayer came back to me.
Even if just one apricot would be saved...

A wave of peace and love rushed over me.
In my heart I thanked God for His tender mercy.

Just one little apricot. For me it was enough. 
And again, I let it go.

So imagine my surprise, when Taylor burst into the house a few weeks later. "Mom! Mom! Look at all the apricots in the tree!"

At first, I was confused. I knew we didn't have apricots. I had checked the trees. None of the blossoms had made it. I asked him if he was sure.

He looked a little uncertain at my words but responded, "Well, then what are all those orange things in the tree?"

I looked out that same glass sliding door I had pressed my face up a few months ago and looked at the apricot tree. Sure enough, a branch was covered with little orange apricots.

I can't even begin to tell you how I felt, standing at the glass and seeing all the fruit that had no earthly business being there. It has been nearly four months since that day, and I still have no words.

Except these:

Life can be so difficult. Heart wrenching, soul piercing difficult. Some days it can be so easy to wonder where on earth God is, or why He has seemingly left us. But I have learned that while there are lessons and trials to be borne here in our mortal lives, that His love never fails. He has never left us alone. His mercy surrounds us. His love is of such depth and breadth that it is absolutely unfathomable to the human mind. And if we let Him, He will show us over and over his love for each of us.

As I have navigated this year, I have wrestled my way through rocky ravines and barren fields of doubt and despair. Choosing faith is not always easy. But it is still a choice.

And when we take that step of faith into the darkness, I have found that always-- eventually-- the light will come. A light filled with peace, love, and understanding.

Last night, the women's auxiliary of our church held a meeting where the artist who is creating the stained glass windows for the new temple under construction in our town spoke to us. It was a beautiful meeting, and the Spirit was strong. At the close of the meeting both the artist and his wife bore testimony of the Lord being able to work with our individual weaknesses and trials; turning them into strengths. To close her own remarks, the wife explained that she had been strongly prompted to sing a song-- remarking that if the Spirit could touch just one person through it, that would be reason enough.

The song that she chose to sing was an eleven year old song by Nichole Nordeman. Relatively unknown, at least in my little corner of the world. And of all the inspirational songs in the world she could have picked, this one was actually a favorite song of mine; one that has gotten me through several tough times.


Truly, God answers prayers. They are not always in the way or time frame we desire, but still answered all the same. Perhaps trials and weaknesses will not be removed from our lives, perhaps for a purpose that only God knows. But if we will give thanks to Him even in the midst of the darkness, peace can be found. And the lessons learned in how to trust Him can lift us to greater heights of light and understanding.

Miracles happen. Once in awhile they are witnessed in big overwhelming manifestations of divine intervention.  Sometimes they exist in the small, seemingly silly tender mercies that remind us of His eternal love. But most of all, they are to be found in the simple inner workings of grace on the human heart.

And for all those and more, I give Him thanks.

Celestial Realities

In my last post, I mentioned that I had been re-reading A Quiet Heart by Patricia Holland. It is one of my most favorite spiritually-themed books, and if you haven't read it, I couldn't recommend it more highly.

While I have studied Sister Holland's words, thoughts from the first chapter of her book have become a kind of mission statement of mine this year. There is so much to ponder and reflect on. As there is simply no way I can expound or improve upon her own thoughts, I share her words here:

Isn't it sometimes discouraging to see just how easily the adversary uses such earthly issues as vanity and worry, envy and pettiness to distract us from our divine mission and the unity we could enjoy in the Church? We all get discouraged and distracted-- caught up in the thick of thin things-- no matter how good we are. But do we have time, energy, or emotion to waste on what dress to wear or whose living room is the loveliest? 

We have real things to think about, things of the kingdom of God. We need to drink more deeply and be filled more fully for the work that lies ahead of us.

Let me suggest some ways that this fullness can come. Often when I face difficulties, I need to turn off the phone, lock the door, kneel in earnest prayer, and then curl up in a chair and meditate, contemplate, search the scriptures, and cry out again and again in my heart, completely focusing my mind on the mind and will and presence of God until I can see a clear picture of Him...

Now, I can just hear you say, "Pat, get real. I don't have five minutes to do that, let alone an hour or two. I am exhausted now just trying to keep up with things." I know all about your life, because it is my life, too. I am busy also, and I have been for as long as I can remember... But that has everything to do with the point I wish to make.

I realize that life has to go on and that you will not be able to pursue this heavenly communication in a completely uninterrupted way, but if it is a high priority and a fundamental goal in your life, you will find ways, early or late, to be with God. If the key to your car or your mortgage payment check or a child were lost, would you take time to find them? Wouldn't finding them provide the peace you needed to then go about your day? If God is lost in your life and you are not going to be strong or stable without him, can you be focused and fixed enough to find him?

...President Gordon B. Hinckley has spoken often of meditation. My husband [Elder Jeffrey R. Holland] has commented on how often, in speaking to the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve, he has asked that they make sure they take time for thoughtfulness, for pondering, for introspection, for meditation. He often refers to a statement of President David O. McKay: "Meditation is the language of the soul. It is defined as 'a form of private devotion, or spiritual exercise, consisting in deep, continued reflection on some religious theme" (in Conference Report, April 1946, 113).

Somewhere in our lives there must be time and room for such personal communion. Somewhere in our lives there must be time and room for the celestial realities we say we believe in-- or when will millennial peace be ours?

The kind of contemplation, reflection, and yearning for God I am speaking of can't be accomplished very handily with cellular phones, computers, or a blaring TV. God can enter our realm only at our invitation. He stands at the door and knocks always, but someone has to hear that knock and let him enter. In this effort we ought to do whatever we can to make our houses... the temples, quite literally, that God intends them to be. Places for the Spirit of the Lord to dwell. Places for meditation, contemplation, prayer, and study. Places where good conversation and charity out of a pure heart can be present. Places where we find the fulness of God.

We need to simplify and spiritualize and celestialize. If most of what we are doing doesn't fit these categories, if at least some part of our day is not turned to heaven, then we have a wrenching, rending emptiness awaiting us... We simply have to see what we can eliminate, what we can replace with something higher and holier, more reflective, compassionate, and eternal. Second only to dedicated temples, our homes are to be the sacred edifices of the Lord, places of peace and holiness and sanctity. 

(Holland, Patricia T. A Quiet Heart. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2000. Kindle file.)

Food for thought.

Surrender

For the last couple of decades of my life, I have had an uneasy relationship with the story of the young rich man spoken of in the gospels of the New Testament. (See Matthew 19, Mark 10) When the Savior tells him that in order to obtain eternal life he must keep the commandments, the young man replies, "All these things have I kept from my youth up: what lack I yet?"

There have been several times in my life that I have come to the Lord with that very same question, and being convicted by the Spirit with certain aspects of my life that needed changing or forsaking, I would react just as the young man did-- saddened and unwilling to make the change. I wasn't quite ready to give up the proverbial summer cottage in Babylon.

In his recent General Conference address, Elder Robert C. Gay recounts the story of another rich and worldly man from the Book of Mormon who posed a similar question.  King Lamoni's father, being stirred by the words of the Lord's servant Aaron pleaded, "What shall I do that I may be born of God, having this wicked spirit rooted out of my breast, and receive his Spirit[?] ... I will forsake my kingdom, that I may receive this great joy."

Aaron answered him, "If thou will repent of all thy sins, and will bow down before God, and call on his name in faith, believing that ye shall receive, then shalt thou receive the hope which thou desirest."

It was with this understanding that King Lamoni's father prayed fervently to the Father, "O God... I will give away all my sins to know thee."

As a teenager and young adult, I always admired this response from the Lamanite king and wished that I too had that same kind of resolve. But it always seemed too hard, too extreme. There was no way I could do it on my own.

And you know what?
I was right.
I couldn't do it on my own.

But with the help of my Savior, well, that's another story altogether.

I love these words from an apostle of the Lord, Elder David A. Bednar:

If I were to emphasize one overarching point this morning, it would be this: I suspect that you and I are much more familiar with the nature of the redeeming power of the Atonement than we are with the enabling power of the Atonement. It is one thing to know that Jesus Christ came to earth to die for us. That is fundamental and foundational to the doctrine of Christ. But we also need to appreciate that the Lord desires, through His Atonement and by the power of the Holy Ghost, to live in us—not only to direct us but also to empower us. I think most of us know that when we do things wrong, when we need help to overcome the effects of sin in our lives, the Savior has paid the price and made it possible for us to be made clean through His redeeming power. Most of us clearly understand that the Atonement is for sinners. I am not so sure, however, that we know and understand that the Atonement is also for saints—for good men and women who are obedient and worthy and conscientious and who are striving to become better and serve more faithfully. I frankly do not think many of us “get it” concerning this enabling and strengthening aspect of the Atonement, and I wonder if we mistakenly believe we must make the journey from good to better and become a saint all by ourselves through sheer grit, willpower, and discipline, and with our obviously limited capacities. ("In the Strength of the Lord," Oct. 2001 BYU Devotional)

I have since learned that it is only when I lay everything I have, everything I am down on His altar and surrender all to His tender care, that I am transformed. Reborn.

And suddenly, those sticky sins that seem so very difficult to excise from our lives slip away without much struggle.

In the words of author John Pontius, "If we yield ourselves to His direction He will show us what to do first, and give us the power to do it. He will direct us, step by step, all along the way home. Additionally, as we obey Him, He will change and purify our hearts. As our hearts become single to His glory, we will find the changes we thought most impossible will just quietly, sweetly occur. The patience which previously eluded us, the gentleness we never knew, the love and brotherly kindness we thought unattainable, the powerful prayers and faith we yearned for, yet never attained-- all these and many more precious gifts will simply distill upon our souls." (Following the Light of Christ, Ch. 3)

I know this is true, because I have lived it.

Left to ourselves, we are weak, imperfect.
In Christ, we are made whole. Complete.

And all it takes to begin is that first step in His direction.

To quote Elder Gay once more:

The Lord loves our righteousness but asks of us continued repentance and submission.

This is the exchange the Savior is asking of us: we are to give up all our sins, big or small, for the Father’s reward of eternal life. We are to forget self-justifying stories, excuses, rationalizations, defense mechanisms, procrastinations, appearances, personal pride, judgmental thoughts, and doing things our way. We are to separate ourselves from all worldliness and take upon us the image of God in our countenances. (see Alma 5:14)

Brothers and sisters, remember that this charge is more than just not doing bad things. With an engaged enemy we must also act and not sit in “thoughtless stupor.” Taking upon the countenance of God means serving each other. There are sins of commission and sins of omission, and we are to rise above both. ("What Shall a Man Give in Exchange for His Soul?" Oct. 2012 Conference Report)

As a young mother of five small children, I frequently felt completely overwhelmed by all that I had to accomplish and never seemed to complete. My to-do list was just too long, and just the thought of adding in all of the spiritual elements that I knew were lacking in my day was incredibly daunting. It seemed absolutely impossible. I literally didn't think there were enough hours in the day. But when I made the decision to lay this burden at His feet a couple of months ago and seek out His will for me--nothing wavering, a gradual shift began to take place in our home. Things that were unnecessary and perhaps damaging began to slip away. In its absence, time was made available to center my days on the things that matter most-- and I have been amazed in how much of a difference just a few weeks can make.The difference has been palpable.

In Christ, truly all things are possible.
He strengthens us, helps us, and causes us to stand. In the midst of it all, He upholds us by the enabling power of His infinite and eternal Atonement.

A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.

And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them. (Ezekiel 36:26-27)

Where we are weak, He is strong. And if we so desire, He can make us new creatures in Him.

His promises are sure.

• • •

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

Lent

Today is Ash Wednesday, and many of my friends from other Christian denominations are attending services and going without a certain luxury or giving up a personal vice as they begin their observance of Lent.

I've discovered through my years of living in the Beehive State that there are a lot of members of the LDS faith here in Utah that know very little about Lent. Most assume that it is just a Catholic observance, when in actuality many Christian denominations participate. The holiday is part of the Roman Catholic tradition, to be sure, but Lutheran, Methodist, and Episcopalian congregations, and many other branches of the faith also recognize it. 

As far as the Latter-Day Saint tradition is concerned, the Lenten season is not observed in a traditional way. In fact, Jenna Jones, an LDS script writer for Jon Stewart's The Daily Show has quipped, "Mormons don’t participate in Lent because being Mormon is like Lent 24/7. The only thing left to give up is dessert. & NO ONE’S TAKING THAT FROM ME!” 

Her thoughts, while humorous and very tongue-in-cheek, are actually worth noting-- because as Latter Day Saints, we are constantly trying to come unto Christ and leaving our baggage at the door. Every Sunday we seek to remember the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ and covenant to repent and turn to Him. The first Sunday of each month is typically designated as a fast Sunday, and congregants generally will go without food for a 24-hour period by their own choice and donate the funds not spent on those meals to the poor. Our spiritual journey compels us toward constant growth and searching for truth; and fasting, prayer, and sacrifice are considered necessary components of such development. So in a way, a formalized observance of Lent would be a little redundant for our faith community, because if we're truly engaged in our religion we are always "observing Lent," as it were.   

For me personally, I like to recognize the Lenten season because it helps prepare me for Easter. So often it seems like the Easter season comes and goes without much fanfare. This is distressing to me, because I feel it is perhaps the most important holiday we celebrate. I may be biased, since it is my favorite holiday, but I don't think I'm off base for saying that. If we as Christians truly believe as we say we do, if the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior is the most meaningful and singular event ever to transpire on this planet, then it would seem that we should approach Easter with at least the same amount of anticipation and reverence as we do Christmas.  

I love these words of Christian writer Ann Voskamp, "Lent. It’s the preparing the heart for Easter. Like going with Jesus into the wilderness for forty days, that we might come face to ugly face with our enemy. Our sacrificing that we might become more like Christ in His sacrifice... Lent isn’t about forfeiting as much as it’s about formation. We renounce to be reborn; we let go to become ‘little Christs’. It’s about this: We break away to become."

This is exactly how I feel about Lent. It is similar to how Advent helps me to celebrate Christmas with the right frame of mind. 

Just as Christ spent 40 days in the wilderness fasting and preparing for His ministry, I have the opportunity to spend 40 days in deepened meditation and contemplation, giving up some things that have a tendency to separate me from the Spirit and adding elements that allow me to more fully come unto my Savior.  

And that is definitely something my faith tradition embraces. 

Love You More

I pray in the car a lot these days.

It's not that I'm a terrible driver or anything like that. Simply put, the quiet moments in the car where the children are guaranteed not to be clamoring at my side lend themselves nicely to quiet discourse and meditation. On the good days, anyway.

Today was a good day.
It didn't start as such, however.

While the last few weeks have been beautiful, full of sacred moments that I haven't felt I could share on a public blog, this past week has been a challenge. As I loaded my little ones into the car and hit the road I was feeling decidedly down.

And so I prayed.

Dear Heavenly Father, please let me know of Thy love on this day. I know that Thou art near, but right now I am feeling so very discouraged, disappointed, and alone. At this moment, all I need is just to know that You love me. Please shine a little of Thy light and mercy into my day, I humbly pray...

Then I decided to listen to the radio.

And I kid you not, this was the first song that came on.

"More," by Matthew West.


I've always loved this song, and today it was a direct hit to my heart.

Just a face in the city
Just a tear on a crowded street
But you are one in a million
And you belong to Me
And I want you to know
That I'm not letting go
Even when you come undone

I love you more than the sun
And the stars that I taught how to shine
You are mine, and you shine for me too
I love you yesterday and today  
Through the joy and the pain
I'll say it again and again
I love you more

And I see you
And I made you
And I love you more than you can imagine
More than you can fathom
I love you more than the sun
And you shine for me 

I am thankful for a God that answers prayers at times in the most immediate and unexpected ways. And that He helped us arrive at our destination safely as I bawled my eyes out on the interstate. It may have been a small thing, but for me today it was huge. Even when we feel so small and utterly insignificant, God gently corrects us and reminds us who we really are.

The Sunset

Around five in the evening on Sunday, I happened to look across the kitchen to our sliding glass door-- which was perfectly framing a magnificent sunset.

"Reilly," I called as she sat playing at the kitchen table, "look at that pretty sunset!"

She turned and approached the glass, marveling at all the colors.

Look, Mom! There's pink and orange and blue... and a little purple too.

Her eyes were wide with wonder. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked.

She smiled and nodded. Then turned back to the table and proceeded to document the moment in bold Crayola strokes. The silhouette of a mountain, embraced by a breathtaking riot of color.

Handing it to me with both hands, she smiled at me sweetly.

Here, Mom, this is for you.  

And she turned back to the glass to admire the sky once more.

I stood, watching her.
Her silhouette now being embraced by those same colors she had replicated with her best six-year-old effort.

My sweet little first grader.

And the tears, they come again, as I think of a town where the sun has already set.
A town where several parents no longer have little first grade silhouettes, no six-year-old giggles outlining their evenings.
A silent night.

I have shed a lot of tears for Newtown, Connecticut.
I imagine that there will be many more still to come.
My breath catches and my heart stops every time I let the emotion of those twenty-six victims at Sandy Hook Elementary wash over me.

The parents in anguish, the frightened children, the grieving community.
No. Not community-- nation. Aren't we all grieving alongside one another?
The pain has been intense.

Yet even in despair, there can be peace. I have felt it wrap around me and comfort my soul several times over the last few days, as the God who weeps (see John 11) succors His children.

I find strength in all of the good people that are still out there in the world, giving themselves to the service of others.

"The helpers," as Fred Rogers called them:

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.

To this day, especially in times of "disaster," I remember my mother's words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers-- so many caring people in this world.

This is what I tried to teach my children this week as I held them a little tighter, a little longer.
There may be terrible evil in this world, but guess what? In the big picture, love wins. Every time.

Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.
God bless Newtown.
God bless us all.

In Their Shoes

Trying on Daddy's Shoes

A few months ago, our amazing Stake President (similar to a Catholic Bishop) had what I thought was a brilliant idea. He wanted the men of each congregation to learn more about the divine purpose of the Relief Society in particular and women in general, and so decided that last month each Relief Society President would teach the 4th Sunday lesson to priesthood brethren from Sister Julie B. Beck's talk from the April General Conference of the Church. A sister, teaching with authority to the brethren. Pretty awesome.

The flip side to this was that a brother from the High Priests' Group would teach the Relief Society sisters from Elder David A. Bednar's talk from the priesthood session of the same conference. This also had the potential to be really great, but in our own congregation it had mixed results. The older brother who taught-- whom I quite like, personally-- was obviously a bit flustered to be speaking to a room full of women. Some of his wording choices and phraseology ended up being a bit unfortunate.

Complicating things was the fact that I was sitting next to a lady who has been investigating our faith, and has really been through the ringer when it comes to life in general and men specifically. I could sense her unease growing as the discussion touched on topics of patriarchal ordination, without much thought as to how the matriarchy of the church fits into the picture. Toward the end of the hour I tried adding some of my own personal thoughts to the conversation, but I sense it may have been too little too late. She was extremely frustrated with the way he had seemingly sidelined the women of the Church in his lesson-- although I am certain that this was not at all his intent. Having been wronged by the men in her life, it was yet one more experience that seemed to confirm in her mind that men and women would never be equals-- at least in the minds of men.

Yesterday, I wrote a bit about my experience growing up in an environment where I knew without a doubt that I was valued just as much as my brother, and that men and women were absolute equals in God's eyes. As a result, this has translated to my having a very happy and fulfilling marriage to a man who feels exactly the same way. Our marriage is truly a loving partnership, in every sense of the word. Although he holds the priesthood and I do not, I have never felt a sense that I am somehow "less than." (Which is not to say that there haven't been questions I've wrestled with when it comes to the culture and certain aspects of church history, but I feel I have found answers and made peace with a lot of it.) After all, does not the culmination of the highest blessings of the priesthood require both a man and a woman kneeling together across a sacred altar in the holy temple of God? For Latter-Day Saints at least, the answer to that question is a resounding yes.

That said, I have a lot of empathy for those women in the church who have not had this same experience. I think it is a tragedy, to be perfectly honest. Because certainly if there is one thing we can learn from our Savior, it is of His love and compassion for all men and women. Reading through the New Testament, I cannot help but be impressed by His treatment of women in particular: His first miracle, performed as a service for His mother (John 2); His treatment of the woman taken in adultery (John 8); the woman with the issue of blood (Luke 8:43-48); the sinful woman who washed and annointed His feet (Luke 7:36-50). And this is only scratching the surface. Elder James E. Talmage perhaps said it best, "The world's greatest champion of woman and womanhood is Jesus the Christ." (see Jesus the Christ, 3rd ed. (1916), 475)

This week, there is quite a buzz here in Utah over certain Mormon feminists rallying to wear pants to church on Sunday as a sign of solidarity. Honestly, not having grown up in the culture here in Utah, I had no idea that wearing something other than a skirt to church was something so very scandalous. All that really mattered in my home ward was that you wore your "Sunday best" as a sign of respect to God, whatever that might be. One of my high school English teachers was baptized into our faith in the mid-90's, and she would often wear very nice pant suits to church. It never made me bat an eye. Maybe that was just me, though. I loved it! And I will never believe that a lovely tailored suit is somehow less respectful than the casual denim skirts we often wore as young women just because the fabric involved seams on both sides of each leg.

The outcry over this "event" (on both sides) has really startled me, however. I mean, really? We're getting all bent out of shape over pants? Whatever happened to "the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart"? (1 Samuel 16:7)

Where are our hearts? I think that's the real issue here. What does the Gospel teach us? The real, true, core doctine of Christ. Not the varying quirks of our culture. Where are we coming from? A place of love and a desire to further understanding, or anger and contention? It goes both ways, for both sides of the coin.

Personally, I will be wearing a skirt to church on Sunday, but that's simply because I want to. Not because I feel any sort of pressure from the culture. I actually like skirts. (Plus, I'm not sure I can squeeze my postpartum body into any of my formal pants, but that's another post entirely!) But let me tell you, if I see any of my Relief Society sisters wearing trousers in the chapel this or any other Sunday, I will happily greet them with a warm smile and hug-- just as I would do any other day of the week.

Kelsey over at Empowering LDS Women wrote a fantastic post last night about this current issue, and I highly recommend it. A small snippet:

We are meant to create "Zion" together, and we certainly can't achieve that by discrediting each others' concerns, or by assuming that if someone struggles, it's because they haven't worked hard enough on their issues. I believe increased understanding and empathy will in turn lead to improved church culture, inspire Zion-like policies, and improve our adherence to the doctrines of Christ-- tolerance, kindness, love, compassion. And then, when we're prepared, "greater light and knowledge" will surely come to us.

Amen, sister.

When it is all said and done, we are all brothers and sisters working our way through this mortal journey together. We all come from varied backgrounds and life experiences that shape the way we view the world around us. Despite this, God has asked us not to judge each other but to come together in love and unity.

Love and unity.
That seems a pretty good place to start.