A couple of weeks ago I happened upon a program on BYUtv called "Fires of Faith". The kids and I began watching as a man was led up to be burned at the stake sometime in the 1500s I think. Well, because it was BYUtv, I assumed it wouldn't get graphic and decided I would explain what was happening. I try not to shy away from telling my kids exactly what it is they observe or have questions about. I may edit and explain as kid-friendly as I can, needless to say, they didn't even light the bushels of straw on fire, it cut away and the program went on. It went on to talk about how many people were burned for pursuing to publish and distribute The Bible. The word of God that at the time was only allowed for Catholic priests to read.
I began to think about the many people that gave their lives to liberate and educate and provide opportunities for everyone to learn for themselves from these important words. It was a right these people felt so passionate about, they were willing to give their lives. I thought about their courage to change the status quo. I'm sure there were many more who risked their lives, whether or not they had to die for this cause or not.
Fast forward four hundred or so years later, people on the street were asked their thoughts on the Bible, or if they have ever read it. Many felt it was irrelevant, out of touch, not applicable, and many had never read it. I must admit I have not read more than a passage here or there of the Bible. I am not putting anyone down for not doing so. But for some reason, it really hit me that those men (and possible women) who were burned at the stake or otherwise killed to bring these words to light, are now considered 'irrelevant' and their sacrifice deemed 'not applicable'. I felt an almost irreverent feeling for those that are our ancestors, those that helped shape the world to what it has become. Those that paved the way for the freedom we enjoy today.
Furthermore I thought about the things that I want to teach, want desperately for my children to know about me and my experiences, and thought of my children's children's children dismissing me or my experiences as 'out of touch' or 'irrelevant'.
I realized everyone who has ever lived has a certain amount of years on this earth. Some live long, and some have less years to experience life. But for all of time women and men have made and had babies, reared children, dealt with illness, experienced hurt feelings, laughter, love, struggle, worry and many more everyday feelings and interactions. And although our circumstances, possessions, and environment have changed dramatically, I believe we still have a lot more in common with people of the past than we have differences. We as humans have had to learn to deal with one another, interact, tolerate, loathe, and love.
These thoughts have given me a desire to connect with my personal ancestors, to learn about their experiences and wonder what life was like for them individually. I have felt not only connected to those that have come and gone before me, but to those who are here now with me on the earth, and those who have yet to come.
I am amazed at the lines of thought I feel I have been inspired to ponder, and I am so grateful for my freedom to think and to question and to learn. We live in a truly blessed time.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Monday, March 4, 2013
Little Things
Early on in my adult life I learned how to take big life-changing events in stride. What I mean is, it became easy for me to see God's hand in my life whenever major, unplanned events happened. For instance, when my mom passed away in a car accident, although that was one of the most difficult times for me emotionally and spiritually, I was simultaneaously incredibly blessed to feel comfort and peace. Like everything was as it should be. And I somehow knew, this is part of the plan.
Learning to react to life that way helped me to feel calm and steady. I was armed with the knowledge of God, and my faith had been tested to a point that helped me in my everyday life. My faith grew stronger. As time went on, I was able to feel and be happy and hopeful for what my life had in store.
A few short months later I met Kendall. And a few short months after that we were married. I was blessed with such confidence and peace about my life and where I was headed.
Fast forward seven years and three kids later. I still remember those days of feeling complete peace and hope. And I look back and am grateful for the many things I was able to learn and apply. Last week as I was driving down the road, stressed out of my mind over a tax document that had come that day, I had a thought come to me.
His hand is in the little things too. Not just the big things.
I felt peace come over me and the worry wash away.
I had learned to accept and deal with hard things before. Learned to let the Savior carry me and be my rock. Why had I never before thought to let that same process carry out with the little things in my life? Why did I think it was only necessary for me to rely on that peace and faith when major life events happened?
This may sound silly, but I never thought of letting it apply to something so insignificant as a bill. Which is funny because sometimes we'd get a bill and I'd feel as if our whole world was going to crumble...does that just happen to me? I become paralyzed and stressed with worry not being able to see how things are going to work out. But you know what? They ALWAYS work out.
Who benefits when I am paralyzed and stressed? (The adversary)
You know when you hear people talk about certain principles and you think you understand what they are saying? Well, I've known His hand is in the details and the little things. Heck, I think I may have even written about it before. But this particular instance last week is when I REALLY understood. Like the connections of the knowledge and actually applying it made me go, "Oooohhhh! I get it! This is what I need to do to not feel stressed!"
My goal is to remember when little things happen where I would usually react with stress or panic, to not. To instead replace that reaction with this one - This is part of the plan. He knew this would happen. There is a plan for me and my life and I have faith in His timing. That will be my mantra, with a few deep breaths as well.
I know I will need this reminder again. I am human. I am imperfect. I forget. I live in this world, and this world is not easy. But right now I am grateful to have had this reminder.
Learning to react to life that way helped me to feel calm and steady. I was armed with the knowledge of God, and my faith had been tested to a point that helped me in my everyday life. My faith grew stronger. As time went on, I was able to feel and be happy and hopeful for what my life had in store.
A few short months later I met Kendall. And a few short months after that we were married. I was blessed with such confidence and peace about my life and where I was headed.
Fast forward seven years and three kids later. I still remember those days of feeling complete peace and hope. And I look back and am grateful for the many things I was able to learn and apply. Last week as I was driving down the road, stressed out of my mind over a tax document that had come that day, I had a thought come to me.
His hand is in the little things too. Not just the big things.
I felt peace come over me and the worry wash away.
I had learned to accept and deal with hard things before. Learned to let the Savior carry me and be my rock. Why had I never before thought to let that same process carry out with the little things in my life? Why did I think it was only necessary for me to rely on that peace and faith when major life events happened?
This may sound silly, but I never thought of letting it apply to something so insignificant as a bill. Which is funny because sometimes we'd get a bill and I'd feel as if our whole world was going to crumble...does that just happen to me? I become paralyzed and stressed with worry not being able to see how things are going to work out. But you know what? They ALWAYS work out.
Who benefits when I am paralyzed and stressed? (The adversary)
You know when you hear people talk about certain principles and you think you understand what they are saying? Well, I've known His hand is in the details and the little things. Heck, I think I may have even written about it before. But this particular instance last week is when I REALLY understood. Like the connections of the knowledge and actually applying it made me go, "Oooohhhh! I get it! This is what I need to do to not feel stressed!"
My goal is to remember when little things happen where I would usually react with stress or panic, to not. To instead replace that reaction with this one - This is part of the plan. He knew this would happen. There is a plan for me and my life and I have faith in His timing. That will be my mantra, with a few deep breaths as well.
I know I will need this reminder again. I am human. I am imperfect. I forget. I live in this world, and this world is not easy. But right now I am grateful to have had this reminder.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
The "Winter-Blues" Wall
Oh February.
I hit the "winter-blues" wall this past week. I am aching for sunshine and warmth. I have obvious seasonal depression symptoms. But am I really wishing for the weather to change or for the feeling I have to change?
When I think of warmth and sunshine I think of laughter, smiles and happiness.
When I think of gray skies and cold I think of hiding under my blankets and doing nothing.
I cannot control the weather. Is it possible for me to control the way I feel regardless of what it looks like outside my window?
Can it possibly be that simple?
How?
Thoughts?
I hit the "winter-blues" wall this past week. I am aching for sunshine and warmth. I have obvious seasonal depression symptoms. But am I really wishing for the weather to change or for the feeling I have to change?
When I think of warmth and sunshine I think of laughter, smiles and happiness.
When I think of gray skies and cold I think of hiding under my blankets and doing nothing.
I cannot control the weather. Is it possible for me to control the way I feel regardless of what it looks like outside my window?
Can it possibly be that simple?
How?
Thoughts?
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Bunk Bed
Our boys were excitedly watching us at the beginning...sorting and assembling their brand new bunk bed. Its beautiful, smooth espresso colored wood boards scattered around the bedroom, and the yummy wood smell filled the air and added to their excitement. Eager to help, they sat patiently and watched us from the doorway, helping find the right boards when asked. But, as the assembling wore on, they lost patience and we put on a movie for them while we worked.
Two and a half hours later I'm thinking Ugh, why did we even buy this thing? It was nearing 11:30pm. Both beds completely put together I asked my husband if we could just leave it as two beds for the time being, but knowing how long the boys had been anticipating the bunk bed, I also knew it wasn't an option.
Twenty long minutes later it was finished. The boys were elated and exhausted. We set some ground rules (one on top at a time, their little sister was not aloud on top without mom or dad in the room, etc.) and tucked them in after saying a goodnight prayer of gratitude for their beloved bunk bed.
A little discouraged it had taken so long, I had been fighting feelings of contempt for the bed for the whole three hours. I knew I was tired, so that was adding to my frustration, but I noticed something. As soon as it was finished, and the boys were tucked in, I sat there and looked at them in their new beds, and a feeling washed over me. I do love this bunk bed. What a blessing to have the extra space, and how nice it makes the room look, and how happy the boys are.
Upon reflecting a bit, I was reminded how so many things in life come at a price. Whenever I have worked hard at something, the reward has been worth the effort. Whether it be physical, emotional, or spiritual, whenever I have really applied myself and worked hard, the reward has always outweighed the sacrifice.
I think my athletic experiences in my childhood and teenage years taught me discipline and work ethic. When I was 12 or 13, I had a coach tell me something that has always stuck with me. He had noticed during a particularly long race that I seemed afraid to push hard, that I was afraid of getting tired. He said, Don't be afraid of getting tired! I turned that into, don't be afraid of hard work, or hard things. I learned on a physical level how to do hard things and push myself, and I had tremendous success when I figured out how to achieve certain goals through that hard work.
Through my post-high school years, I had experiences that taught me emotional and spiritual hard work. I had to face scary realizations and bad habits and tendencies that I'd had. Going through that helped me to make healthier choices, changed how I was and helped me realize how I wanted to be. I say how and not who because we are who we are. Only when we change how we are do we change who we are.
I know it seems silly that assembling a bunk bed from a box brought up all of these thoughts and reminders. But I am grateful for these reminders because life would be so much easier for me if I didn't have to do hard things and just went through the motions. But I know my life wouldn't be as rich and fulfilling if I hadn't, and don't continue to do the hard things. I do them because I am strong, and because I can. And because it is so worth it.
Two and a half hours later I'm thinking Ugh, why did we even buy this thing? It was nearing 11:30pm. Both beds completely put together I asked my husband if we could just leave it as two beds for the time being, but knowing how long the boys had been anticipating the bunk bed, I also knew it wasn't an option.
Twenty long minutes later it was finished. The boys were elated and exhausted. We set some ground rules (one on top at a time, their little sister was not aloud on top without mom or dad in the room, etc.) and tucked them in after saying a goodnight prayer of gratitude for their beloved bunk bed.
A little discouraged it had taken so long, I had been fighting feelings of contempt for the bed for the whole three hours. I knew I was tired, so that was adding to my frustration, but I noticed something. As soon as it was finished, and the boys were tucked in, I sat there and looked at them in their new beds, and a feeling washed over me. I do love this bunk bed. What a blessing to have the extra space, and how nice it makes the room look, and how happy the boys are.
Upon reflecting a bit, I was reminded how so many things in life come at a price. Whenever I have worked hard at something, the reward has been worth the effort. Whether it be physical, emotional, or spiritual, whenever I have really applied myself and worked hard, the reward has always outweighed the sacrifice.
I think my athletic experiences in my childhood and teenage years taught me discipline and work ethic. When I was 12 or 13, I had a coach tell me something that has always stuck with me. He had noticed during a particularly long race that I seemed afraid to push hard, that I was afraid of getting tired. He said, Don't be afraid of getting tired! I turned that into, don't be afraid of hard work, or hard things. I learned on a physical level how to do hard things and push myself, and I had tremendous success when I figured out how to achieve certain goals through that hard work.
Through my post-high school years, I had experiences that taught me emotional and spiritual hard work. I had to face scary realizations and bad habits and tendencies that I'd had. Going through that helped me to make healthier choices, changed how I was and helped me realize how I wanted to be. I say how and not who because we are who we are. Only when we change how we are do we change who we are.
I know it seems silly that assembling a bunk bed from a box brought up all of these thoughts and reminders. But I am grateful for these reminders because life would be so much easier for me if I didn't have to do hard things and just went through the motions. But I know my life wouldn't be as rich and fulfilling if I hadn't, and don't continue to do the hard things. I do them because I am strong, and because I can. And because it is so worth it.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Michael Jackson
Tonight driving home from the grocery store, I was stuck alone at the one intersection in the universe that hates me. I don't think I have EVER hit a green light there ~ yes I'm talking to you 900 East and 6600 South!
While perusing the radio, I happened to stop upon the Michael Jackson song, "Man in the Mirror". And since the stoplight chose to skip the left-hand turn green arrow which I was waiting for, I sat there and listened to this whole song. I never thought a song by Michael Jackson would evoke such emotion out of me, but I was really feeling the words tonight....
I'm Starting With The Man In
The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change
His Ways
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself And
Then Make A Change
I love that we have the power and freedom to choose who we are, and who we want to become.
During this song I found myself asking, Do I make the changes I need to, to become better? A better mother? Wife? Sister? Friend? Daughter? Aunt? Do I know what those changes need to be? More patient? More kind? More loving? More accepting?
And what would the world be like if everyone were brave enough to look in the mirror at themselves? See themselves honestly.
And then 'make that change'?
While perusing the radio, I happened to stop upon the Michael Jackson song, "Man in the Mirror". And since the stoplight chose to skip the left-hand turn green arrow which I was waiting for, I sat there and listened to this whole song. I never thought a song by Michael Jackson would evoke such emotion out of me, but I was really feeling the words tonight....
I'm Starting With The Man In
The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change
His Ways
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself And
Then Make A Change
I love that we have the power and freedom to choose who we are, and who we want to become.
During this song I found myself asking, Do I make the changes I need to, to become better? A better mother? Wife? Sister? Friend? Daughter? Aunt? Do I know what those changes need to be? More patient? More kind? More loving? More accepting?
And what would the world be like if everyone were brave enough to look in the mirror at themselves? See themselves honestly.
And then 'make that change'?
Friday, January 11, 2013
Days as a Mother
Some days as a mother are more challenging than others. Some days everyone plays well together, meals come together seamlessly, housework and homework are completed, etc.
Then there are the days when you are attempting to help your oldest child with his homework, while the two younger ones cannot help but want your undivided attention simultaneously. They all become frustrated because there is not enough mom to go around.
And mom becomes frustrated because there is not enough mom to go around.
Frustration is the worst.
It often leads to snapping at your 4 year old because he pulls your chair out from under you as you'd leaned over to help your 5 year old with a math problem. I guess hovering over the chair technically means you are 'out' of your seat and done using your chair?
He runs to his room in tears because you scold him. Mom-guilt washes over you. You push through the homework because your 5 year old is becoming impatient and whiny. The 4 year old returns, repentant, apologizing and informs you he said a prayer while up in his room. Your heart melts.
Even during frustrating times there are moments when you feel not so much like a failure mom.
You realize your 4 year old caught on before you did, that maybe it's time to offer a prayer and ask for help.
I love my kids.
Then there are the days when you are attempting to help your oldest child with his homework, while the two younger ones cannot help but want your undivided attention simultaneously. They all become frustrated because there is not enough mom to go around.
And mom becomes frustrated because there is not enough mom to go around.
Frustration is the worst.
It often leads to snapping at your 4 year old because he pulls your chair out from under you as you'd leaned over to help your 5 year old with a math problem. I guess hovering over the chair technically means you are 'out' of your seat and done using your chair?
He runs to his room in tears because you scold him. Mom-guilt washes over you. You push through the homework because your 5 year old is becoming impatient and whiny. The 4 year old returns, repentant, apologizing and informs you he said a prayer while up in his room. Your heart melts.
Even during frustrating times there are moments when you feel not so much like a failure mom.
You realize your 4 year old caught on before you did, that maybe it's time to offer a prayer and ask for help.
I love my kids.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
When was the closest you've felt to Heavenly Father?
When I was 21 I had come home from a hospital visit and while I had been there, a cousin of mine had brought a journal for people who visited me to write in. Late one night, I decided to pull out that journal and read what people had wrote. I remember feeling so loved and touched by what my visitors had written not only about me, but of the Spirit they had felt when they'd come into my hospital room. Their words of encouragement and faith and love uplifted me in a way that I cannot describe. I'd grown up with these people, but I had no idea I'd meant that much to them. Being on the younger end of a large group of cousins, I'd always looked up to them and felt of myself as sort of an afterthought compared to them. As I sat there basking in these feelings of love and support, a thought crossed my mind.
If this is how much I am loved by my family and friends, how much does Heavenly Father love me?
Within an instant of that thought flowing into my mind, I was overwhelmed with a sweet, warm embrace of pure love. Pure love. It was a love so deep and personal, I had never experienced anything like it before. And I knew what I felt was merely a glimpse of what that pure, unconditional love is, and where it comes from. It was a glimpse of the Divine.
An experience like this could easily be brushed off to be something insignificant. But I could not deny the significance this had on me. On what I believed, and what I knew to be true. That there is a God. That He loves us more than we can comprehend. That there is more to our lives than we can understand.
I wish I could share with everyone that feeling that I'd had - the comfort and peace and unconditional love. I believe it would change the world.
And I believe it does.
Every day.
If we are open enough to listen and receive it.
If this is how much I am loved by my family and friends, how much does Heavenly Father love me?
Within an instant of that thought flowing into my mind, I was overwhelmed with a sweet, warm embrace of pure love. Pure love. It was a love so deep and personal, I had never experienced anything like it before. And I knew what I felt was merely a glimpse of what that pure, unconditional love is, and where it comes from. It was a glimpse of the Divine.
An experience like this could easily be brushed off to be something insignificant. But I could not deny the significance this had on me. On what I believed, and what I knew to be true. That there is a God. That He loves us more than we can comprehend. That there is more to our lives than we can understand.
I wish I could share with everyone that feeling that I'd had - the comfort and peace and unconditional love. I believe it would change the world.
And I believe it does.
Every day.
If we are open enough to listen and receive it.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Sunday Morning Scuff
This morning as I was getting ready for church, I glanced down at my brown boots and paused to admire how new they still looked. I'd worn them pretty regularly for about two months now. They weren't real leather, they were cheap boots. But I was okay with that - grateful I had pretty brown boots at all.
Upon entering the church, while herding my three little ones in as my husband held the door, I stepped up and scuffed the front of my boot! Oh the irony! I had just been admiring how smooth and unmarked they were! My frustration set in quickly, as we slipped in 5 minutes late and found a seat. I sat there, trying to feel okay that the permanent mark had begun the slow process of diminishing my pretty brown boots. But no matter how I tried to feel better, I was still feeling frustrated and angry. As I sat there, staring at the scuff it hit me.
I am that scuff. And that is exactly why I am here. Right now. About to take the sacrament.
Wow. I, like my boots, will be scuffed and torn and broken down.
But unlike my boots, I can still be able to be made whole.
Clean.
New.
Comfort washed over me. And acceptance of my scuff. How grateful I am for this little reminder, and for the knowledge I have of a loving Heavenly Father and Savior.
Upon entering the church, while herding my three little ones in as my husband held the door, I stepped up and scuffed the front of my boot! Oh the irony! I had just been admiring how smooth and unmarked they were! My frustration set in quickly, as we slipped in 5 minutes late and found a seat. I sat there, trying to feel okay that the permanent mark had begun the slow process of diminishing my pretty brown boots. But no matter how I tried to feel better, I was still feeling frustrated and angry. As I sat there, staring at the scuff it hit me.
I am that scuff. And that is exactly why I am here. Right now. About to take the sacrament.
Wow. I, like my boots, will be scuffed and torn and broken down.
But unlike my boots, I can still be able to be made whole.
Clean.
New.
Comfort washed over me. And acceptance of my scuff. How grateful I am for this little reminder, and for the knowledge I have of a loving Heavenly Father and Savior.
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