Allegorically Speaking

Trees in a Winter Storm

2012-01-24T22:18:00.000-08:00

A storm rocked our area last week. Snow, ice, wind. It was bad. Especially when the freezing rain hit.

At first it was beautiful. We were surrounded by beautiful ice trees.

But- as the freezing ice continued, weak branches and treetops broke and split under the weight of the ice.

Branches littered the ground- and even houses. But, left standing was the tree- a little worn for the weather- but strong and ready to recover.

Years back my dear sweet Grandma Jane wrote a beautiful poem called Trees in an Autumn Storm. I took the liberty to change a few words to apply the storm. I think there is a great lesson to be learned.

Trees in a Winter Storm

May I bow before God, as do the trees
before the culling winter storm--
gracefully, never fighting winds not seen.
Upper branches filled with new growth,
Responding to the sometimes thrashing torrents of rain.

For them, no hiding place from God's time-to-time testing.
They are out in the open; vulnerable, accepting.
Lifting from the roots skyward, stretching toward heaven.

And when the storms come, as they always do,
They appear to accept, and even enjoy their time of challenge.
Roots, reaching deep hold base trunk secure, firm, sure.
The bending to the winds and ice will come from the reaching latter growth.

That which has not before experienced the storm
will stand or fall from the nurturing trunk
as heavenly forces call for an accounting of new growth.

Thrashing, swaying, twisting, accepting, ever accepting
'Till the storm is through.

Then all becomes calm, as gentle rain descends.
Bathing each leaf and branch with healing touch.

The trial is over. The sky lightens.
The trees stretch once again heavenward.

Upon the ground lie twigs and leave, and sometimes branches,
that stood well when there was no storm.
Weaknesses hiding amid the strengths, 'till now.

The trees do not mourn the loss.

They have been pruned by the God that created them.
That which was strong has become stronger.

They are filling the measure of their creation.

There are lessons to be learned from winter's storms--
about life, and God, and growth, and obedience,
And so many other things--

If we could just open our eyes and hearts,
To the simple, visual parable of trees in a winter storm.

Weather I Like it or Not

2012-01-22T15:16:00.000-08:00

No, that wasn't a misspell. I meant to type weather. You'll see why.

Monday I felt the impression to do all of the laundry in the house. Yes, ALL the laundry. My kids brought their dirty clothes from their rooms (I mean all of them- from under the beds, behind the dressers, everywhere) and sorted them. We gathered towels, blankets and rags. The downstairs looked like a war zone of clothing. For two days straight the washer and dryer were running.

Then, Tuesday night all I had left were a pile of blankets to wash. I felt the impression to wash them, but pushed that aside. I was tired and figured I would just do it in the morning. Besides why would God care if I washed my blankets then, or the next day. So, I threw them into the garage (out of sight, out of mind) to be washed in the morning.

Wednesday morning I woke up to a cold house and no power.

The first day wasn't too bad. We have a gas fireplace, and we hooked up our generator to a few lamps, the refrigerator and the TV (a sanity saver!) But, that night, we were cold. We all had clean jammies to layer- but no extra blankets.

The blankets were sitting in the freezing garage- dirty.

We made do. It's Sunday- going on four days with now power- and we are still making due.

The point is- God tried to help me out. He gave me the idea to do all the laundry. I listened- mostly. But, I didn't listen completely.

I did it again the other night. I felt the impression to call a friend of mine. It was dinner time. I was tired and busy. So I told myself I would call her the next day.

The next day I found out she was in the hospital - having her baby weeks early. She had found out the afternoon before that she would need to have the baby right away. She had just enough time to go home and grab a few things before going back to the hospital.

That was about dinner time.

I had the impression to call her. And I didn't follow the impression.

Sometimes God puts ideas into our heads to help us out- impressions about our lives and the things around us. Sometimes the impressions make sense, sometimes they don't. But, they are always for our benefit.

He wants to help us. He does help us. But, it's us to listen AND follow those impressions when they come.

We have had crazy weather. Ice storms, snow, rain storms and wind storms. I just heard that another wind storm is on the way. Who knows when the power will come in (well, He does.)

I'll tell you one thing I do know, though. Next time I feel an impression, I'll follow it: weather I like it or not.

He is the Reason for Every Season

2011-12-26T11:06:00.000-08:00

It's done.

The presents are unwrapped. The parties are over. The day is past.

But, the reason we celebrate Christmas is still here.

I often feel blue the day after Christmas. But not this year.

This year I really felt close to my Savior as I celebrated His birth. Maybe it had to with Christmas falling on a Sunday. Maybe it is because I've tried, as a persona goal, to come closer to Him in my everyday life. Whatever the reason, I have felt a deep sense of gratitude and love for my Savior.

The celebration is over, but the spirit of love and gratitude for me remains.

As I get back to the reality of life, work, school, chores, etc, I plan on keeping that spirit with me.

The Christmas season is gone. But, isn't Jesus Christ the reason for every season? Don't we owe all we have to Him?

I know I do.

There are so many people in need of our kindness, our help, our understanding, our love, our forgiveness, ourselves. So, for me, the way I'm going to keep celebrating the reason for every season is through being His hands here, serving others, trying to be like him and learn of him.

Below is a great video that was part of my inspiration to do just that. It's a Christmas video, but it applies to every season. I hope you enjoy it.

Will You Please Let Me Help?

2011-11-23T17:53:00.000-08:00

My youngest daughter is an uber-helper. It doesn't matter what I am doing, she wants to help.

Today I was making a 7-layer salad for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow and she wanted to do everything from chopping the celery (which I didn't let her) to licking the homemade dressing off the spoon (again- I didn' let her.)

Then she wanted to help me clean up (which I did let her.) And so the day went as she followed me around asking, "Mom, will you please let me help?"

Sometimes I like the help. But (true confessions of a control freak mother) more times than not I like to do things myself. I can do them better and faster.

Before you set in with your "...but the children need to learn by experience" spiel, I'm well aware of that and am continually working to find the balance.

Anyhoo- my youngest has made it her mission to help anyone around her. It's sweet- but I don't always feel like it's necessary, let alone beneficial.

The other day she got upset with me and finally said, "Mom, why won't you just let me help you?"

The question was born out of sheer frustration on her part. She wanted to help, and the only thing standing in her way was me and my willingness to allow her to do it. It had nothing to do with whether or not I needed her help- I just didn't want it.

I was listening to the Phantom of the Opera today as I was driving around in my awesome maroon mini-van with the blue pin stripes that keep me humble, and the lyrics which I sung all of the sudden took on a different, higher meaning.

The words which struck me were these:

Let me be your freedom...I'm here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.
Let me be your shelter, let me be your light...your fears are far behind you.

The words that filled my ears were ones that I imaged my Savior saying to me: Let me in. Let me help you.

Then the realization burned deep within me: The only thing standing in the way of the Savior helping me is me.

The image of me going about the business of life- heartaches, trials, successes and joys- without Him broke my heart. He wants to help me in all I do. That is why He atoned for me: so I can be forgiven and reach my potential and greatest joy here and in the life after.

I imagine Him standing before me, watching me struggle and saying, "Michelle, why won't you just let me help you?"

I thought about it as I drove and realized that the reason I don't is three-fold.

1. Pride. A lot of times I don't want help- even if I need it.
2. Incomplete understanding of what He is offering. Often times I don't let Him help because I don't realized all that He can do for me.
3. Misdirected priorities. With all the demands in my life, sometimes I don't always think about things of a spiritual nature.

There is a lot I need to work on.

The good news is that He will help me do it....if I just let Him.

And I plan to.

PS- 11/29/11-I was told by someone that they needed closure after reading this post. So- let me end with going back to my daughter. Grace still wants to help with everything. I'll admit, most times it's simply easier just to it myself. But, I have tried to make a sincere effort to let her help me more. Just a few days ago I was putting up Christmas decorations. I was putting lights and a garland on a new wreath and she asked again if she could help.

Initially I told her no, but then I the thoughts came back to me that I wrote in this post. I called her back over and asked her to help me. Then I let her put the garland and the ornaments on. She was so excited! We worked together for about twenty minutes. I was pleasantly surprised by her decorating choices. When the wreath was finished we hung it up.

She looked at me and said, "Thanks for letting me help you."

"Thanks for helping," I said as I looked around at everything else I had to still do.

Then she said, "Mom, I really love you."

My heart melted. I looked down at her and all she saw was me and how much she loved me and wanted to help me. And, at that moment all I saw was her, how much I loved her, and how grateful I was that she helped me decorate the wreath. Because I let her help me, I gained so much more than a beautiful decorated wreath- I gained a sweet bonding moment that I'll not soon forget.

Pleasure Write- God's Will

2011-11-17T09:18:00.000-08:00

Have you ever gone on a pleasure drive? Where you have no specific destination, but you simply drive for the enjoyment of it.

Well, that's me today.

I love to write, and want to write, but really have nothing profound or inspirational in mind.

So, I thought I'd just write and see what comes out.

Maybe I should be like this in life more: It's ok if I don't always know where I'm going- sometimes I should live just for the enjoyment of it.

That's not always easy to remember.

I like to plan things. Everything has a purpose and a place (although you wouldn't know it looking at my closet right now!)

So, when my plan changes, sometimes I feel like my purpose does.

This happened to me recently.

As long as I could remember I've loved working with people. Since I was a newlywed I have wanted to be a family and marriage counselor.

I wasn't smart with my education before marriage, so I had a loooong way to go.

Then the kids came. Boom- fifteen months, then -Boom.

All of the sudden I had two little kids and my plan changed. Luckily, so did my purpose. I was a full-time mom and loved it. Although the dream of going to college was still in my heart and mind. But, I was young, and thought there would always be time later.

Over the years I have taken a few courses here and there as scheduling allowed- but I have yet to get a degree.

Then, the reality hit my like a ton of bricks the other day. Someone asked me what my plans are with my college/counselor goal.

I realized then that the plan is outdated. I am 40 now. My youngest is 8, which doesn't allow for full-time schooling. Going to school part-time consistently will give me a Masters degree in 12 years. That means I will be a young 52 when I enter the competitive world of psychology.

Then, when I get a job- IF I get hired above the 20-something prodigies- I would be able to work for 13 years until I retire, with all the money going to pay off all the student loans I took to get my degree.

I realized sitting there that that ship had sailed. All those years I put it off because "I can always do it later." And now it was later.

And now it was too late.

I'll admit, a small part of me died.

But, here's the miracle.

The larger part of me was really OK with it. In fact, I was at peace- because I knew that my life was just what it should be. I knew that, despite my personal plans, I had made every major decision with my husband and my Father in Heaven.

I knew that I was right where He wanted me to be.

My plans had changed, but my purpose was never more clear.

What an amazing and unexpected gift that was.

As I sit and think about it, I am grateful for the path I took. I am grateful for class I traded to hold my kids. (I could have passed on the toilet-cleaning parts. I never got warm-fuzzies scrubbing a toilet.)

I always wanted to be a counselor because I enjoyed it, I thought I had some talent, and I wanted to do good in the world.

As I went through this experience (all in the matter if seconds, unbeknownst to the kind woman who asked me the question) I realized and felt a peace knowing that God knows my talents, and He will use me for whatever purpose He has, if I follow Him.

That made me feel good.

At the end of this rambling pleasure write (which I have very much enjoyed writing) I actually arrived at a destination I hadn't intended but am grateful for.

I feel a peace with the direction my life is headed- even though it looks different now than the picture I've had in my head for 16 years.

I understand that His ways, purposes and plans are above mine- and I am happy for it.

Things didn't go my way, my plan won't work. But I don't care. I am happy, and it's because I've lived the plan that He set for me.

There is a sense of unexpected freedom and anticipation about my life now. That makes me smile :)

So, we'll see what happens next, where He would have me be.

Honestly, maybe His plan isn't that I wasn't a counselor, but just that I lived a life with Him as my partner in all things. I don't think God wants to run our lives like a puppet master. He simply knows us better than we know ourselves (given our temporary state of ignorance, amnesia and humanity.)

His will isn't to run- or ruin- our lives; but to guide, enhance and complete them.

Even if we aren't what we though we would be, if we listen to Him, we can be even more.

Hm. Good write. I should do this pleasure writing thing more often. Lol.

Is the air-cast half on or half off?

2011-11-14T14:21:00.000-08:00

It's been a crazy three months for me. I broke my toe, then I broke my foot, then I turned 40, then I got put in this:

It's an air-cast boot. My fashion statement since the beginning of October.
Jealous?

I think it's fairly easy to be optimistic in good times, when adversity and resistance are low. It's even easier to be optimistic when you are a natural-born optimist.

But, when things aren't going your way, it's a little more difficult. Add to that a major birthday and it's the perfect storm for a mid-life crisis.

Luckily I averted the mid-life crises,but I have had my share of pity parties.

I have blamed pretty much all my troubles on my broken foot and the stupid boot I have to wear so it can heal: My back hurts, my hips hurt, my knees hurt, I can't work out so I'm gaining weight (and no, it has nothing to do with the ginormous amount of cookies and ice cream I'be been inhaling- in case you were wondering.)

I even blamed my tired body and grey hairs on the boot.

But, last night something happen, something triggered. I decided not to be a slave to my boot- not to let my circumstances dictate my happiness.

After I got the kids off to school I went to the gym and exercised. It felt great. I looked totally ridiculous on rowing one-legged on the row machine- but I was doing something.

Then, I went grocery shopping. After an hour and a half (it was big shopping) of walking around, looking at sales/deals, etc, I was tired. My foot and ankle ached. I started to feel tired. Then I started to grumble again. All these bi-pedal people just walking around with matching tennis shoes- and there was me, rockin' the boot and feeling it.

As I stood in the check out lane a lively employee, a gentleman in his 50's, asked me about my boot.

I told him I ran into the coffee table.

He told me that was a lame story, and that I needed to get a better one to impress him.

That's when I notice the metal claw he had in place of his right hand.

I gestured towards it and asked what his story was. With a big grin he said, "October 18th, 1978. Meat grinder."

He told me he was 18, working two jobs and going to school. He got tired and slipped up, getting his metal glove caught in the meat grinder.

He then told me it was the greatest experience he ever had.

"No way," I told him. That couldn't be true.

"It is," he said. "I was in and out of the hospital and back to work in 4 days."

He was all smiles when explained that it was incredible because he was young and strong, and his body recovered so quickly. "Isn't that amazing?" He asked.

It was.

But what I thought more amazing was this man's attitude, his outlook and his joy. He was genuinely happy.

He can't go home and take the claw off and put his hand back on. It's permanent, but because of his amazing attitude, he was happier for it.

I felt about an inch high.

He then told me to get a better story about my foot, then wished me luck before he helped the next customer.

Man- the power of perspective changes everything.

I came home, unloaded my groceries and took the boot off. Not only is it confining, but it's starting to get a bit stinky (tmi- sorry)- but, this time I was filled with more gratitude and a far better perspective.

Life is going to hand all of us curveballs, hard times and sometimes disastrous events (I'd call losing your hand in a meat grinder disastrous). But it's not what happens to us that makes us, it truly is what we do with it.

I used to resent the air-cast boot, seeing it as something that weighed me down, limited me and hurt me.

But, now I see it differently. It still isn't my favorite thing, but I am so grateful that I have it, to help heal and mend. I am also grateful that I have a foot to put in it.

I am grateful.

And that's makes me happy.

Pretty cool, huh.

Keep Calm

2011-11-13T09:27:00.000-08:00

My youngest daughter is very energetic. Most times it's endearing :)

But, like all good things, moderation is the key. (Dancing and singing when you're happy=good. Dancing and singing in the middle of the night=bad.)

I have a favorite word that I started sharing with her: Calm.

I love that word.

Calm.

I even feel calmer just saying, "Calm."

So does she.

And it makes a difference in her.

And it makes a difference in me.

As I get older (40 now- what?) I am convinced that the energy I used to spend on singing and dancing like my daughter does has been unwittingly transferred internally.

Now, rather than having the energy of a child, I have the stress of an adult. I spend entirely too much energy worrying, second-guessing, doubting and stressing.

So, when my mind starts racing about the things I need to do, the things I haven't done, the Christmas list that's growing, the chores that are being neglected, the children I am raising, and so on, I've decided to use my favorite word on myself: Calm.

And guess what. It works.

It takes some deep breaths and reminders (just like my daughter), but it works.

I love calm.

It's when I am calm that I can hear the promptings of the Holy Ghost whisper what is best.

It's when I am calm that I can talk TO my children, not at them.

It's when I am calm that I be grateful for event the difficult things in my life.

It's when I am calm that I can remember to stop, pray and play.

Calm doesn't mean to neglect responsibilities and duties. Calm just means that I am able to see them in a clearer light.

Calm means that I can take a moment to prioritize my day.

Calm means that I don't get made over spilled milk (literally- that happens weekly in our home.)

I have found that my trials and circumstances haven't changed tremendously since my attitude has.

But, my life has changed.

I am happier.

I am more in control.

The spirit in my home is better.

I am more grateful.

I enjoy life more.

I am calm.

I love it!

So, during this upcoming holiday season, I extend the invitation to you to 'Keep Calm'

When you feel your blood rising, your doubts growing, your fears scaring, your stress taking over, your frustration yelling or your tears flowing- remember calm.

Take a deep breath and.....be....calm.

Then let me know what happens :)

Michelle

PS- Here are some fun wall-printable I found and/or made. I've got them around my house. Love them!

"Thank You for Taking Care of Me"

2011-11-10T23:37:00.000-08:00

I was having a lovely day. It was 1:30pm and I was plopped on the couch, eating a chocolate chip cookie (homemade) and typing on my lap top. It was all out of duty, of course. I broke my foot and I've got doctor and husband orders to stay off it.

Then the phone rang.

It was my youngest daughter's school reporting that she had fallen off the toy structure during recess and hit her head. She was dizzy and "not herself."

I jumped up, donned my lovely air-cast boot and headed to the school, only slightly resentful that my perfect afternoon had been ruined. I arrived to find little Grace throwing up, pale and crying. We went straight to the doctor. At the doctor's office she began to vomit in the waiting room (Not that I recommend vomiting in the waiting room- but it is a sure-fire way to see the doctor immediately

The doctor checked her out then excused himself for a moment. Grace climbed down from the examination table and sat next to me. Her eyes were still wet, her cheeks were flushed and she was so tired.

Then she looked up at me and with a soft, quivering voice, she said, "Mom, thank you for taking care of me."

This poor girl who just blew fruit snacks out of her nose and probably had a mild concussion,and was thanking me for taking care of her. I remembered my disgruntled thoughts I had as I drove to the school and immediately repented. Then I held her in my lap and stroked her hair as we waited for the doctor to come back in.

He finally returned and gave her the OK to go home, with orders to rest the remainder of the day. As we drove home I thought about what she had said to me. My poor little girl, in the depths of her own pain and discomfort, had the wherewithal to thank me. It make my heart melt, my love for her grow, and my desire to serve her deepen.

I thought about my life recently: In the past three months there have been a lot of trials, particularly the past few weeks as I have had a very slow-healing double fracture in my foot and an awful cold. They don't seem like major things, but together, on top of the demands of daily life, they have proven to be a painful and uncomfortable challenge.

I know I have prayed for strength, perspective and all that good stuff. I know that God gave me what I asked for. But, I had to ask myself if I had looked up to Him and said, "Father, thank you for taking care of me?"

I couldn't take away her pain, but I did what I could to help- and her sincere, childlike gratitude warmed my heart.

He can't take away my pain, but I know God does what He can to help. I also know that my sincere, childlike could warm His heart and bring Him joy.

It didn't take her long to feel like herself again. But, throughout the rest of the evening she must have come up to me five or six times and kissed me and told me she loved me. I know that my service to her as her mother drew her closer to me- because I did it, but because she recognized it.

In turn, I know that as I recognize God's hand in my life, and His service to me, that I will draw closer to Him. I will turn to Him more often to say thank you and I love you.

It's a great lesson for me, especially during this season of gratitude and thanksgiving.

How grateful I am for the sweet and simple lessons we learn from our children, and what wonderful examples the are to me. :)

When Pain Trumps the Pain

2011-11-01T22:26:00.000-07:00

I've got a friend who recently had shoulder surgery and wrist surgery on the same day. I was able to visit with her just yesterday and inquired about her recovery.

She shared how the shoulder has mobility, but still is quite painful. Lifting is difficult, but a necessary part of mothering a young child.

When I asked her about her wrist she said something that was interesting. She said that before the procedure the surgeons explained that, even though wrist surgery is painful, the pain is trumped by the shoulder pain and she most likely would not notice it as much.

She happily told me it was true. As bad as the pain from her shoulder was, it had drawn nearly all the attention away from her wrist. It was a blessing in disguise.

I thought about that concept in a spiritual sense. Afflictions aren't a lone breed. They usually come in pairs, or even packs. When when ball drops, so does the next. When a domino falls, it knocks down the others.

Sometimes we are so bombarded by trials that we just feel pain.

But, maybe that is wisdom in God's plan. Part of the purpose of life is be tested and tried. Salvation has a cost, and it isn't cheap. If we experienced each affliction, each trial, each pain or discomfort in a string of individual experiences, our lives would probably be filled with a never-ending stream of troubles, problems, adversity and pain. Each individual trial would receive our full attention, and we would experience all the pain and frustration associated with it.

But, God in His infinite wisdom, has taken that string of trials and combined and spaced them into clusters of manageable afflictions. (When I say manageable, I mean that we will never be given more than we can handle.)

As we experience multiple difficulties, the harder, more painful ones, trump the lesser ones. We can experience them and endure them without the full affect of their pain, and yet still be beneficiaries of the blessings that come from enduring them in faith.

Not that I'm a big fan of pile-up trials - or any trials for that matter. But the trials in this life are what allow us the opportunity to learn and grow, to stretch and choose who we will be.

I've had a few in my life- but as I look back at those times, I can see that this principle rings true- at least in my life. As I am going through something big, smaller trials pop up the seem unimportant, even trivial in comparison. But, if I would have experienced them alone, they might have caused me a great deal of discomfort, even pain.

One of the greatest blessings of these cluster trials is the sweet relief when the healing begins and the trials and pain lessons, and the lessons and blessings of peace and growth take their place. We have more spiritual strength and mobility, and we are better for the wear.

It just goes to show that, truly, we can see God and His wisdom in nearly every aspect of our lives. Even a shoulder/wrist surgery. I'm grateful to my friend for inviting me into her home, sharing a fun afternoon and giving me such great food for thought.

Come What May and Love It

2011-10-21T09:22:00.000-07:00

A few years ago a beloved leader of my church shared some inspiring words his mother told him when times were tough. She said, "Come what may, and love it."

I've thought a lot about that lately. Things don't always turn out like we planned, and life is full of difficulties. Our minds know that is part of the process of growth. We know the purpose of this life is to reach our potential and be like our Savior.

We cannot think that we can become like Him unless we pass through our own furnace of adversity.

So, how do we make it through the tough times, when our minds know but our hearts might fail? How do we say to ourselves, "Come what may, and love it?"

Elder Wirthland puts it far better than I ever could.

He teaches that "the way we react in adversity can be a major factor in how happy and successful we can be."

The four keys he shares to doing this are:

1. Learn to laugh. It will extend your life, and theirs.

2. Seek for the eternal. Difficult times are "on the job training" which stretches our understanding, builds our character, and increases our compassion for others.

3. Understand the principle of compensation. "That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way." "Every tear today will eventually be returned a hundred fold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."

4. Trust in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. They want us to be happy and be successful.

"The simple secret is this: Put your trust in the Lord, do your best and leave the rest to Him."

Thank you Elder Wirthlin.

Hope and Faith- and a Car.

2011-10-18T11:09:00.000-07:00

Faith and hope.

They are talked about a number of times in the scriptures. Paul speaks of them in various forms and fashions in nearly every book he authored in the New Testament.

I have read much and thought much about faith and hope, the integral nature of their relationship, the very meaning of their words. It has always been a notion of mine that they were one in the same- a belief in something.

But as I was reading my scriptures this morning I came across this verse,that, when I read it, painted a clear picture (at least in my mind) of the relationship of hope and faith.

"And what is it that ye shall hope for? Behold I say unto you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurection, to be raised unto life eternal, and this becasue of your faith in him according to the promise." (Moroni 7:41)

I thought about it for a bit, and this is what I came up with. You'll have to forgive me for the somewhat juvenile analogy - but sometimes that is how my brain grasps things the best. :)

Our testimony is a car. Faith is the engine. Hope is the steering wheel.

We choose the car we like, then we accessorize it to our taste. In turn, we choose the church with the doctrine we like, then we fill in our testimony with the things we like: the Atonement, Heavenly Father, healing, tithing, service, Sunday service, miracles, prayer, priesthood etc.

We can be comfortable in our car, even love our car, but without an engine, our car will take us no where. It will just sit there, looking good.

We can be comfortable in our church, even love it, but without faith, we will not be moved to action. Faith is the belief that the elements of our testimony are real and true, even though we cannot or feel immediate proof. Faith in what we believe moves us to align ourselves with our beliefs, not the other way around. With faith we move and grow. Without faith, we will simply sit and go no where.

A car with a with an engine is great- especially if you know where you want to go. In order to reach your destination, you need to steer the car, so that it moves in the proper direction. Without a steering wheel you could probably get through Nevada, but you would be lost in the Rocky Mountains.

Hope is the desired destination or outcome. We hope to live with God again. We hope we can find peace through prayer. We hope that following the commandments. Our hope points us in the direction of where we want faith will take us.

Would our faith move us to action that would bring us to a hopeless conclusion? No. We hope that we will reach our highest potential, be with our families forever and achieve ultimate joy. And we have faith that as we follow the gospel in word and deed we will make it there.

We believe in Jesus (testimony). We have faith that he died for us(so we follow Him.) and it is our hope that, because of our testimony and our faith in action, we will become like Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and have eternal life.

Again here is the verse: And what is it that ye shall hope for? Behold I say unto you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurection, to be raised unto life eternal, and this becasue of your faith in him according to the promise."

I have read this verse many times in my life, and this morning it took on a whole new meaning. (Personal revelation- a topic worthy of not only a blog post, but volumes of books written about it.)

Testimony is the car. Faith is the engine. Hope is the destination.

What do I hope for? How will I get there? What will take me there?

What do you hope for? How are you going to get there? What will take you there?

For me, I know what I hope for. I have faith that my Savior and Father in Heaven will guide me there. And I believe that the doctrines I have a testimony of will carry me through.

How about you?

Just One Question

2011-10-16T17:40:00.000-07:00

I love teaching my class of 5 and 6-year-olds each Sunday. They say the cutest things. The lesson was about staying pure and making good choices. There was a point in the lesson where we talked about Jesus and what He would do in certain situations.

Then I asked them a question: If they could meet Jesus face to face today, what would they ask Him?

I loved the questions they came up with.

"I would ask Him how He got here."

"I would ask Him out He made the earth."

"I would ask Him how He made the scriptures."

"I would ask Him what He likes."

"I would ask Him how I can help Him."

I asked myself the question, too. If my Savior came to my home today, sat on my couch and said I could ask Him anything- what would I ask? What would I ask?

What would you ask Him?

Honestly, I would probably want to ask Him all the questions the kids shared today, and then some. Then I would thank Him for all He has done and will do for me.

But, what if I could only ask one question? Out of all the questions in my mind and heart, what one question would I want answered more than anything.

What would your one question be? I'm sure each of our questions would be as different as we are.

As for me, after much thought, I finally picked on out.

If my Savior came to me and I could ask Him one question, it would be this: May I hug you?

I know it sounds strange. I mean, here is Deity that knows everything, that is everything, that could tell me anything, and I ask for a hug. Why?

I'll tell you why. I already have a knowledge of the gospel and Plan of Salvation, I already know where I came from and where I am going. I already know about His life. True- there are millions of missing details, but I already know everything I need to get me back to my Heavenly Father without ever seeing my Savior facet to face. (Blessings of being a member of His church.)

But, what I have longed for (rightly or not) when I pray is to feel more: to feel Him more, to be comforted by Him more. I have even been known to plead in prayer for eternal arms to hold me tight and bring me peace.

So, even though I would love to know exactly how the Atonement works and what that was like for Him, I already know that the Atonement is for me, and that it works in my life.

And even though I would want to know how He performed healing miracles, I already know that He has healed my heart and my body more than I can count.

Even though there is so much I want to know, there is one thing I want that can't be learned, taught or told: I want to know what it is like to be held in the arms of the One that loves me purely, has sacrificed all, and wants my happiness more than any other (aside our Heavenly Father.)

So, that's my one question.

I'm curious, what would your one question be?

Layers

2011-10-07T13:23:00.000-07:00

Last year at our church's Harvest Festival there were a variety of games we could play. One of them was the Mummy Game. You stand still as your partner runs around you, unwinding a large roll of toilet paper. You race against another team to see who can unroll the toilet paper first. In the end, you look like a wrapped up mummy (albeit a messy one!)

It was a fun game, and not as easy as it sounds. (I, personally, enjoyed the eating-a-donut-hanging-off-a-string-with-no-hands one. I pretty much dominated that one!)

My daughter played the mummy game a number times. One particular time she teamed up with an overzealous partner who speedily unwound three rolls of toilet paper all over her. Nearly every part of her was covered, but her feet.

She stood there, looking like a TP mummy. I wouldn't have recognized her if it weren't for her sparkling prices shoes!

I helped unwind her, layer by layer, until I was able to see and recognize my little girl again. She said, "Whew, now I'm me again!"

Adopting an older child has had it's blessings, but it has also come with its share of challenges. There are behaviors and habits that were developed long before she came. Some are positive, but others are foreign and even detrimental. Some are just down-right frustrating.

But, as I've studied, prayed and pondered about it, I realized that she is playing the Mummy game, although this time it was not of her own choice.

Deep inside is my little girl. She is strong, sweet, intelligent, patient, loving and kind. She has amazing potential. But, covering up much of who she really is are her behaviors.

She is wrapped up in fear and anxiety. She has layers of sadness and anger. Since she was young she had partners who ran around her with instability, abuse and neglect. So, now she comes to our home, wrapped in layers; and it's my job to unwind them, layer by layer, until I can see her.

I struggle because sometimes I forget that I am not seeing her, but the layers that she is wrapped up in; when she throws a fit, when tells a lie, when she makes other choices that are contrary to what we teach and practice on our home, I need to remind myself not to just stare at the layers, but to look beyond them. I remind myself that she is under the layers, and it's my job to get to her.

This concept of layers doesn't only apply to adopted children. They apply to all.

We are all covered in layers to some degree. Some are wrapped so tightly that it is nearly impossible to see who they really are. They might even know who they are inside. Others have only a thin layer; perhaps of insecurity or sadness. But, we all have layers.

When I see someone acting in a negative way, intentional or not, I have to remind myself that behaviors are layers. And when I get frustrated with them, and perhaps even develop feelings of dislike for them, I have to remind myself of a saying I once heard "You cannot love behaviors."

It is difficult look at a person or child who is hurting you or attacking you and think warm fuzzies- because you can't love behaviors.

The key is to look beyond the behaviors, beyond the layers to the person wrapped up inside. Often they cannot find their way out without help. And almost always, they want deep down inside to feel like themselves again. Deep down we all want to be happy.

So, when I am offended by an adult, or frustrated by a child, I tell myself they are layers, not them.

Underneath we all want the same thing: to be valued, to be loved, to be needed and to be worthy. In most cases, the people with the most behavioral issues are the ones with the most layers. They are the ones that want to be freed the most, even if they don't know it.

I know I have my layers. Sometimes I will say or do something contrary to who I feel I am because I am acting out of insecurity, anger or selfishness. That isn't easy to admit, but it's true. And, I would hope that those around me would try to look beyond my layers, too. That they would try to see me, my righteous desires, and my potential. And I would hope that they would love me for me, not judge me because of my layers, but see through them.

I love my daughter. She is a challenge, with many layers. It will probably be a life-long endeavor to unwrap them, but she is worth it.

PS- For those of you who were wondering, there is the matter of accountability we all have to unwrap our own layers. Regardless of what has happened to us, we are accountable for how we act and what we do. This post in no way is dismissing personal accountability. (That's a whole different post!) It is simply a visual that helps me get past the choices that some people make and see them for who they are. It makes it easier to love them, not their behaviors.

Express Yourself (in a good way!)

2011-10-02T15:36:00.000-07:00

I've discovered Subway Art! I know I'm like a year behind, but I have had a great time this weekend creating some fun things for my wall. Here's how they turned out.

It looks a lot cuter when you see the whole wall, but there are a lot of family pictures I'd rather not post- so you just get the individuals pics, but trust me, it's adorable!

Below are the documents. I think you should be able to print them out for yourself if you'd like- although if your last name isn't Wilson, it probably won't do you much good!

The above is based on the 13 Articles of Faith- the foundation doctrines of what my church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, is built on.

This one is made from a the things my family chose as our own family values. I had them posted in more of a mission-statement document, but this is much cuter and easier to read.

Hope you like them!

You Can Save a Life By Watching This Show

2011-10-02T11:53:00.000-07:00

Tonight ABC is showing a special episode of Extreme Makeover Home Edition. I've had the opportunity to preview it and worth watching!

It's an episode featuring a Mormon family. It’s a really powerful episode and Major League Soccer team and a nation get involved. The show revolves around a little boy, Jonah Gomez, who has a blood disorder, which have caused him to undergo open-heart surgery. In this episode, EMHE team conducts a nation-wide bone marrow drive to find a match for Jonah, signing up thousands of donors to save lives.

I love the story- and I love, love, love the Jessica, the mom! Her faith and the love she has for her children is moving. It was a tear-jerker for me.

But, not only is it a great show, it's also an opportunity for you to help save a life.

Please watch it tonight!

Love Much?

2011-09-29T08:56:00.000-07:00

I was flipping through my scriptures today and came across Luke:47 where there is a story about Jesus that I love. He was invited to eat at a Pharisee's house. A woman, who was a sinner, heard he was there and came to meet him. She brought an alabaster box of ointment. Then she proceeded to wash his feet with her tears and hair then anoint them.

The Pharisee wasn't too happy with it. He must have thought the woman dirty and beneath him, for he said, "This man, if he were a prophet, would have known the manner of woman this is that touched him; for she is a sinner."

The Savior's response was beautiful. He said, When I came to your house, you didn't offer me water or a kiss, you didn't offer to anoint my head with oil- but this woman came here and anointed my feet.

Then he said, ...Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much.

Then in verse 50 the Savior said to the woman, "Thy faith hath saved thee. Go in peace."

I love formulas. A + B = C. Here the Savior teaches us that Faith + Love = Forgiveness.

With courage she came to the Pharisee's house to see the Savior. Obviously they knew each other and the Pharisee wasn't fond of her. She didn't care that she wasn't invited (the Pharisee didn't seem the type to invite her kind to his home, vs. 39.) She paid no attention to what the men in the room thought of her as she knelt at the Savior's feet and wept.

Her love for Jesus and faith in Him outweighed her fear of men.

Her love for Jesus brought her to His feet, to tears and to forgiveness and peace.

She loved Him much; and because of that she was forgiven much.

Given the chance, I would kneel at His feet and do the same. That will probably not happen in my lifetime. But, I can still follow this woman's example still.

I can make my love for the Savior stronger than my fear of men. I can live boldly. (My husband calls it being "conspicuously LDS.") I can sacrifice my time and my possessions for Him. I can follow where He leads. I can go where He goes. I can weep when I kneel down to pray. I can love Him much.

I am a sinner, like the woman in this story, but there is hope. As I have faith and love Him much, I can be forgiven much. And then I can find peace.

Pass Me Another Cookie- Or Not

2011-09-26T13:43:00.000-07:00

Everywhere I turn these days I hear someone skinny saying, "Cookies are bad for you." Frankly, I get tired of hearing it. I LOVE COOKIES.

If you don't believe me, below is a picture of my doorbell... you be the judge.

Seriously, I like- no love - cookies. But......

As I've gotten older I've learned something very important about the cookies that I love: Too much of a good thing can be bad. These are some lessons I have learned from personal experience:

1. If you sit down and eat a dozen Oreos with two cups of milk before bed you have weird or bad dreams.

2. If you eat a chocolate chip cookie every time you walk by the cookie jar during the day your kids will be disappointed when they come home to an empty cookie jar.

3. Sadly, when you eat a dozen Snickerdoodles in one sitting, two of them are used as energy and the other ten find permanent housing in your thighs and rear end.

4. If you inhale a dozen Christmas Sugar Cookies before dinner, you won't have any room in your stomach to fit the vegetables (Hey- something's got to give, right?)

Cookies in moderation aren't bad- but too much of anything can be bad for you.

Not only that, but, sometimes a good thing is bad for you for a completely different reason than you'd expect; like when you buy a large tub of cookie dough, throw it on the top shelf of your fridge because you are in a hurry, then a few hours later you open the fridge in a rush and the very same tub of cookie dough launches off the top shelf and splits the bridge of your nose open. It's sad, but true. (just last Saturday.)

There is a point to this (and it's not just to make you crave cookies or want to bake me some and bring them by because you love me and you know I won't turn them down...)

Life is full of demands on our time, our energy, our minds, our souls. It is hard enough to try to balance and juggle everything that is expected of us by others, and especially ourselves.

We can get caught up in keeping the house spotless, taking kids to all kinds of lessons and sports, making sure dinners is on the table at 6 every night, scripture study, serving others, and don't forget to thrown in exercise and a shower every day.

We try to do everything, all at once, everyday. We do too much. We are too busy. We are frazzled.

We end up having bad dreams, someone gets disappointed, you can't appreciate the fruits of your labors, and you find that you don't have any room in your life for other, perhaps better, things.

The word that my husband loves, that I have been learning to love, is 'moderation.' I struggle with it. I want to be the best mother and wife, so I put together a list of things I think a perfect mother and wife would do: Get up with my children every morning and share a prepared spiritual message, kneel for family prayer twice a day, never holler at my kids volunteer in their classrooms once a week, join the PTA, read to them for an hour a day, have dinner on the table at 6pm every night, play a game and take a walk with them, make sure they are getting good grades, are involved in a sport and music.....ouch, my brain is getting tired. The list is simply too long and frankly, it's unrealistic.

My good husband tells me that when we go to ice cream I don't need to get the double scoop in a waffle cone every time; a single scoop is sufficient. But, not for me. Moderation is deprivation. Go big or go home, right? Well, if I keep it up, I will go home big.

Moderation is not deprivation or desperation. It's inspiration.

God teaches us line upon line, precept upon precept. He doesn't dump everything on us at once, because He knows it would be too much, and we would crumble.

So, why do we do that to ourselves? We pile ourselves with so many errands, jobs, outings, commitments, and good intentions that we often feel the weight is to heavy and we crumble.

There is a principle: Good, better, best. We can kill ourselves trying to be good at everything. We might succeed at some. But, it is wiser to take what is best and become the best at that. Every person has a different "best" thing they should be focusing on. It's not a one size fits all.

But, who is to say how what and how much we should do?

Inspiration leads to moderation.

Pray. Ask your Father in Heaven for guidance. Think about what is most important in your life and prioritize the list. Then, start at the bottom and start cutting. For me it means I have never joined the PTA. I know many amazing mothers who have, and I applaud them. Maybe that is the best thing they need to do for themselves and their kids. It may be good for me, but it's not the best thing for me to do.

Maybe for you it's cutting out your kids' third sports club, or turning the TV off at 9 rather than zoning out until midnight and being tired the next morning. Maybe it's exercising 20 minutes a day rather than a full hour. Maybe it's having Mac and Cheese once a week instead of trying to make fresh home-made meals every night. I don't know. You make the list, pray about and figure it out with your Father in Heaven.

I'm not preaching here. I'm still working on this moderation thing myself. It's hard. Everyday I feel pulled in so many different directions, there are so many needs to fulfill. But I'm trying.

I still love cookies and can slam a whole box of Tim-Tams in on sitting if I am not careful. But, I am trying, one cookie at a time, one day at a time, to pick the best things for me, my family and my life. I'm learning to trust my Heavenly Father when He tells me that He will help make up for all the things I simply cannot do right now.

So, I go on - one scoop at a time, one cookie at a time, and one choice at a time - and try to do the few best things the best I can. It makes sense. It's better. The guilt, the pressure and the stress has gone down. My relationship with my Heavenly Father, my family, and myself have grown stronger. And, honestly, it is a whole lot easier than trying to do everything (and I don't have to change into my elastic waist-band pants when I am finished, either.)

Just for the record, however, I will not turn you down if you decide that the best thing you could do for me today is bring me cookies. I would fully support you in that :)

More Stairs? Seriously?

2011-09-22T09:39:00.000-07:00

I spent the day in Seattle yesterday enjoying the sights and sounds of the city. I walked through Pike Place Market, saw the ferries in the sound, ate gelato and even saw a political protest in the middle of a busy intersection. It was quite an eventful day.

But, the highlight of my day was a lunch date with my husband. He wanted to take me somewhere different for lunch, so we grabbed some teryaki from a local deli and headed to the rooftop patio of Rainier Square.

We walked inside the mall and found the flight of stairs that led to the top. Now, I don't mind a few stairs. My home is a two-story house and I seem to manage alright. But, you see, I've got Parker Knees. You won't find it in any medical book- it's a family condition that runs in our family, on the Parker side. It means I've got crappy knees that creek, crack, pop and ache. They also hurt like crazy when I walk up and down stairs.

So, when we approached the first flight of stairs, I was ok. I have become immune to climbing one or two flights. But, the stairs kept coming and coming. By the time we reached what we thought was the last set of stairs my husband said, "I should have found you an elevator."

And there were still two more flights.

(Now- before you assume the building is a million stories high, there were only five sets of stairs- but with Parker knees five seems like a million.)

I started up the stairs and felt a shooting pain in my knee. Instinctively I reached out for my husband's hand and he held it the rest of the way. He didn't pull me up the stairs, he simply held my hand. But it made me feel so much better.

As I stood at the bottom of the last flight of stairs I could see the windows above and the glass door which let to the roof patio (insert angelic choirs singing, Aaaaaaaaa in unison.)

The hike up the stairs was worth it.We had a wonderful lunch together enjoying each others' company and the beautiful elevated view of Seattle.

I thought about my little stair incident this morning. The stairs were not insurmountable, but they were a painful challenge (did I mention that I am still walking on sore pinky toe I broke last month. Poor me!) But, as I held my husband's hand I got the support I needed ease some pain and get to the top.

It was a small act on his part, and he probably didn't realize the impact it had on me, but it did.

In Hebrews 12:12 Paul exhorts the people to "lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees."

Most of life's most challenging times are not the make-it-or-break-it ones. They are often those times when we are "enduring to the end." When the challenges we face are ongoing or repeating: sickness, a challenging child, financial issues, depression, etc.

It's those times that we might look at the day and think, "More? Seriously?" We may doubt ourselves and feel discouraged. But, Heavenly Father knows we can make it. He also knows how much a supportive hand can help.

At times when our hands hang down, or our knees feel feeble, have faith. God is aware and will send support. Then there are times when we are the ones that lift another.

He is aware of our trials, but most often He answers prayers by through those around us. So, when you stand in the middle of your trials and see another batch of the same, and think, "More trials? Seriously?" Look around. Someone will be there to lift you up.

Most likely someone already is-you just have to reach out- keep going and then enjoy the view.

He is Here

2011-09-19T07:10:00.000-07:00

When I was visiting family in California over the summer my sister-in-law became very ill and asked me to accompany her to the emergency room.

We arrived around 8:00pm. The first two hours were filled with registration and testing, a tedious process. All the while we were still relegated to the packed and noisy waiting room.

My brother was a couple hours away serving at our church's girls camp. He had poor reception there, and we were unsuccessful in reaching him. I tried to keep the spirits light as we waited, but after the first two hours my sister-in-law was feeling quite badly physically and emotionally.

After the first two hours I was able to reach my brother. I explained the situation, that she wasn't well but was doing OK, that it wasn't life threatening. I told him it wasn't necessary for him to come, that we would be OK. His wife wasn't able to speak to him, for she was in having her blood drawn when he called.

After a long wait she returned back to the waiting room. It had been nearly three hours since we arrived. I told her that I had finally reached my brother. She was relieved to know that he was, at least, aware of the situation.

We continued to chat and I continued in my attempts to lift her spirits, but as the evening turned into night I could tell worry and fatigue were setting him. Her phone rang, and it was her husband. It was a quick call. When she got off she looked at me and said, "He left camp as soon as he got off the phone with you. He is almost here."

We weren't expecting him to come, and just the thought of his arrival gave her a second wind- even if all she could muster was a small one.

The next 40 minutes were spent chatting (mostly me- no surprise to those that know me) while we took turns watching the hospital doors open and shut. She began to feel very down. I could see that she was losing strength and hope. She was tired and, she admitted, frightened.

It was then, nearly 4 hours after we arrived at the hospital, the I looked up and saw Bob walk through the doors into the waiting room.

"He is here," I said.

The expression on both of their faces was tender and raw. Her eyes watered and she smiled the kind of smile that encompassed love, joy, fear and relief. He was here.

He smiled as well, but it was different than hers. It was filled with love, but also it was reassuring - so caring. And, even though he had not been with her those previous hours, his expression was somehow knowing- as though simply by looking at her he understood what she had been through.

It was a sweet reunion.

We talked for a bit until I felt completely out of place. All they wanted, needed, was each other. I left knowing that no matter what would happen that night, she would be alright because he was there.

I have thought of that night often these past few months and cannot help but see a sweet example of us and our relationship with our Savior.

There are times in our lives when we aren't doing well, when we are hurting. We try to put on a brave face. We try to make the right choices, be in the right places, say the right things. We get help from our family and friends. But, sometimes, even when we are surrounded by loved ones, even when we are doing all that we should be doing, we still feel pain; we feel tires; we feel scared; we feel alone.

So we pray and we plead. And sometimes it feels like relief will never come.

But, He is here. He is full of love, hope and peace. He does know what we have been through.

My sister-in-law didn't see him come in. Her head was hung down from fatigue. She didn't see him come in. It was when she looked up and saw him that everything changed.

He is here. We just need to look up to see Him. He knows what we are feeling. He knows our intentions. He knows our joys. He knows our talents. He knows our pains. He knows us and loves us. But we need to look up and really see Him.

And when we do, everything will change.

He brings hope, peace, love, joy, strength and empathy. When we don't think we can go on, and even when we think we can and we don't need Him, He is here.

Sometimes I get tired. It is hard to see my way out from the problems I face. But, when I look up and see Him, everything changes. I know that I can make it. I know that He is by my side.

I know that He is here, and I will be OK.

$3.51 Well Spent

2011-08-30T23:44:00.000-07:00

Guess what I'm doing right now.

I'm looking at my Samsung monitor's beautiful, clear picture.

Guess why that's a big deal.

Because three weeks ago my monitor started to die.

It began with a momentary flicker before showing a clear picture when I turned on my computer. Then, each time I turned it on it would flicker on and off and on and off longer and longer, until last week the picture never came- only the flicker.

It would cost $200 dollars to replace. Not cool.

So, after a bit of sulking, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I did some research and found a number of message boards with people who had the same problems. Turns out it was bad capacitors.

So above my pay scale.

I am not a techy person. When I was younger I would slice the phone lines, and I am the one in our home who hooks up the TV/cable/DVD wires, etc, but I have never taken anything apart. But the thought of not spending $200 for another monitor compelled me to continue.

I did more research, and last Friday night I spent an hour taking my monitor apart, down to the circuit boards and found that, indeed, I had 4 bad capacitors. I found a reputable company online and ordered 4 new ones: $3.51 including shipping.

Got 'em in the mail today.

I spent two more hours pulling out the bad capacitors and putting in the new ones (had a bit of technical trouble and person epiphany- I don't deal well when things don't go my way.) I didn't have a soldering tool- I don't even know what one looks like. But, I know it's a hot thing, so I plugged in my curling iron and used the tip to solder (I guess that's what it's called) the capacitors onto the circuit board.

I reassembled my monitor and held my breath as I turned it on.

Viola! No flickering! A beautiful picture!

I was so excited I called my husband in, who responded with the appropriate awe and praise. The most I could get from my teenage son, however, was a monotone "cool." But, I interpreted that to mean, "Oh, Mom, you are SO amazing! I hope I marry someone half as cool as you!" I takes less effort to shorten that all into one word: cool- but I knew that's what he meant.

I'm not telling you all this to toot my own horn (ok- maybe just a little.) But, there is a principle in it that I love: We are capable of doing so much more than we realize- if we only try.

Let me say that again: WE ARE CAPABLE OF DOING SO MUCH MORE THAN WE REALIZE- IF WE ONLY TRY.

If you would have told me at the first flicker that I would be the one to fix my monitor, I would have scoffed. But, yep- I totally did it!

The principle of doing great things doesn't stop at monitors. It is an eternal principle. We are told by Paul that with God all things are possible. Perhaps God wasn't too concerned with my monitor, but he knew that my family could have used that $200 for something else, and I was prayerful as I tried to fix it.

I don't think we give ourselves enough credit. I have a brother who is so smart, and has such good things to say, but he doesn't want to start a blog or write because he isn't sure how to do it, or if he even could. So, without trying he just doesn't.

I have another friend who is so crafty and wants to start her own business, but isn't sure if she is capable of doing it. So she doesn't.

There have been many things in my life that I have been unsure of- and even more that I was sure I couldn't do, so I didn't do them.

But, not this day. I fixed my monitor. I didn't think I could, but I totally did. I'm looking at it right now, and it's cool!

I guess my monitor isn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but the principle is: I am capable of doing so much more than I realize- if I only try. And from now on, I'm going to be trying a lot more.

That's $3.51 well-spent.

Did it Get Into You?

2011-08-28T23:24:00.000-07:00

I have another blog, a daily scripture reading blog, where I read a chapter and share my thoughts, welcoming the thoughts and comments of others. At the end of each post I usually write, "What did you get out of this chapter today?"

It's a common term: "What did you get out of it?" You have probably said it yourself. But, today at church we had a speaker, a young man, that added a bit more to it.

He asked not only what we "got out of" the gospel and scriptures, but what part "got into" our hearts.

That make a connection within me. I have always imagined "getting something" out of life- but how much of what I've gotten out of it has gotten into me.

I thought of orange juice. You can squeeze an orange and get juice. One might ask, "How much have you gotten out of if?" and get an answer from a teaspoon to a full cup. But, if you don't drink the juice, if you don't let it get into you, the effort is in vain. You benefit somewhat from the effort, but you do not receive any nourishment.

We can go through the motions of obedience, faith, reading scriptures and even praying. We might think we are getting something out of those things. But, how much of those things getting into us? Are any of those things changing our character, our heart, our soul? Does partaking of any of those things make us better, more full people?

It caused me to take a break and look at my life and my decisions, to look at what I believe in, how I worship and how I act. I know what I get out of it, but how much of it is getting into me?

I'm pleased to say the answer is: a lot. But, I am the first to admit that I could do better, open myself up more so that more gets into me, changes me. So, that's my goal: to not only look at my faith, my family, my life and not only ask, "What do I get out of these things?" but to also ask myself, "What from these things is getting into me."

So, tell me, what did you get out of this post? Did some of this post get into you?

You Can't Ride a Dead Horse

2011-08-15T10:32:00.000-07:00

I had an interesting conversational with a newlywed wife the other day. She is a cheerful lady, always smiling and laughing. I asked if she was always so happy. She said not when she and her husband were alone. It was hard to be so happy when he has so many things to work on. She said she was busy telling him everything he needs to change, from habits to behaviors to the way he shows his love for her.

She thought she was a good wife, and she wanted him to be a good husband. So, she was "helping him" - over and over and over and over. I think it might be safe to say that if you ask him (which I didn't) he would say that she had a lot to work on herself, the major thing being her nagging.

I suggested she give the suggestions a rest. She worried that he wouldn't change if she did, that he would continue on the same path and would never improve. Then she would never be happy.

I then said, "Men are like horses."

She looked confused, "Huh?"

"If you ride a horse without letting it rest, it will run until it dies. You need to give the horse a rest."

She still didn't understand.

I went on to explain, "If you constantly barrage him criticism, scolding and disappointment, you will kill him, and your relationship. Just as a horse needs time to rest and recover, your husband needs a rest from criticism and helping. He needs time and space to learn and grow. You need to give him a rest."

She was skeptical. "But what if he doesn't change?"

"What if you don't change?"

"Oh."

The point is, people cannot be forced, smothered, coerced or convinced to change. We can't, why should they?

It's a difficult concept to grasp, one that I struggled with as a newlywed myself. I thought I was a good wife- a great wife. But, my husband had a ways to go (in my mind.) I was very "helpful" the first few years, pointing out all the ways he needed to improve, showing him examples of his failures and shortcomings, and telling him how he should show his love for me.

Then, a wise person told me that I needed to give him a rest, and focus on myself. No way, I thought. If I do that, then I will become an even better wife and he won't improve at all. That's not fair.

But, I took their counsel. I gave him a rest and started to focus on myself.

What I learned was surprising and a little depressing. When I stopped focusing on him and started to work on me, I realized I wasn't as good of a wife (or person) as I thought I was. I realized I was critical, short-tempered, not easily forgiving and quick to feel sorry for myself. I began to realize how much I needed to work on.

So not what I had expected!

But when I realized all these things, I started to focus on changing myself. I worked on (and still do) being more patient, kind, forgiving and giving. And, funny thing happened: As I focused on improving what I was doing and how I was behaving I began to change. And I noticed my husband was changing as well.

It is difficult to say if his change came about because I gave him the room to grow rather than always "helping." Or perhaps (I think more realistically) the appearance of his change came because as I grew my capacity to love, and I was able to see him for who he is, and not what I thought he should be.

This doesn't apply only towards spouses. It is the same for family members, friends, co-workers, etc.

Sometimes people need space - they need rest from the weight of criticism and disappointment. They need us to just back off and love them. Then they will have the room to stretch and grow. They might see the change in us and want to change themselves. They might be easier to love- but so will we.

When we stand before our Savior to be judged, we won't be standing next to anyone else- not our spouse, our parent, our child, our friend. We will be standing alone. And He will want to know how WE did, who WE have become and what WE have done to follow Him. We cannot say, "Well, I tried to change, but Harvey just had so much to work on. I was busy helping him." We will be held accountable for ourselves, no one else. That means we can't blame anyone else, either.

It is a scary thing to do, change our focus from someone else back to ourselves. It may be difficult, it may seem unfair. But, it works. You will change and grow. You will inspire others to change and grow. You will give them the space to change and grow. And the true power comes from the ability to see things differently as you become more humble, forgiving, patient and kind.

Now, I am not saying that the people around you (like this newlyweds husband) has things to work on. We all do. We are all imperfect. All I am saying is you can't ride a dead horse.

The Moment of Truth

2011-08-09T16:51:00.000-07:00

I write a lot on my blog about the power that we have withing ourselves to make the right choice. I write often of faith, strength, perspective and enduring.

Those are all easy things to write about when the sea is calm. But what about when the storm comes? Is it as easy to say, "Thy will be done?" or "The Lord qualifies those He calls" when the the sea is no longer still?

One day, not too long ago, a storm came into my life. A big one. All the things that I knew were put to the test: God's will is the best for me; He will give me the strength to do hard things; I can be happy in the middle of struggles; I willingly carry my cross because that is how I become like my Savior.

In the first moments I faltered. The realization of the terrible storm brought tears of frustration, anger and even resentment. I didn't not want this trial. I did not sign up for it. I did not think I could endure it. It was too much to ask. Can He make it go away?

The moments turned to hours. The tears came and went, then came again. The doubts, frustrations and anger went sent through prayer to heaven with no answer in return.

Then, soon after I had the chance to hear the answer given to me through my good husband: This is our burden to bear, our load to carry. And we are asked to carry it because we can, and we will. Heavenly Father will give us the knowledge, the patience and the understanding we need to get through it. There is wisdom in all things- even the painful ones.

I hated that he was right, so I cried a little more. I wanted to fight, I wasn't willing to accept just yet.

Then he bought me chocolate cookies and I stopped crying.

He reminded me of something I would often say, "Just because life is easy doesn't mean it's good, and just because life is hard doesn't mean it's bad." He smiled and said, "We can do hard things, Michelle. And we can do this."

Then came the moment of truth: the moment where I had to make a choice: The moment I decided how I will respond to the storm. Will I continue to scream at the wind and the waves as they thrash me about? Or will I put on the protective gear and do my best to steer the boat through the storm? Do I let anger, resentment and frustration take control? Or do I make the choice to believe and do?

In that moment I chose to stop yelling at the waves, and to steer the boat. Almost immediately I began to feel a little better, a little lighter and a little hopeful.

He bought me a chocolate shake and I began to smile.

I am still in the middle of the storm. The waves are so tall that I cannot seem to see past them. My boat has been rocked and I feel seasick. I have done an inventory of my abilities and found that I am seemingly unqualified to steer the boat. But, I know who can see the entire sea, and He is telling me things will be alright. I choose to believe Him (and my husband.)

And, for the first time, even in the middle of the storm, I feel peace.

Help Thou Mine Unbelief

2011-08-06T09:37:00.000-07:00

Last night I was working on a writing project that is proving to be a challenge. I had prayed about it in the past, and an undeniable answer came to me that it will all work out.

But, the words weren't coming. And when they did I doubted them.

I knew I had received an answer earlier that I would be supported and sustained, that what I was doing was good, but I still found the doubts creeping in.

So, I did what every mature woman does when she gets frustrated: I pushed my lap top back and pouted.

That lasted only a few moments, and then I prayed. It was the same plea as the father in Mark 9:24: Lord, I believe. Help thou mine unbelief.

My eyes were drawn to my scriptures sitting on my desk, and I felt compelled to pick them up. I ran my thumb across the pages and opened randomly.

My eyes fell on Acts 27:25 which read:"...be of good cheer: for I believe God, that it shall be given as it was told me."

I smiled and felt peace. It was a gentle and loving reprimand, a reminder that I, like Paul, should believe that God will give me what He has promised- even if I might not be able to see it at the moment.

It reminded me of a favorite C.S. Lewis quote, "Faith is the art of holding on to things your reason once accepted, despite your changing moods."

I had once accepted the answer I received, but when struggle came, I doubted. I needed to have stronger faith in Him and the answer I once received.

The Spirit touched my heart and I was filled again with renewed hope and motivation. I also was filled with a determination to not let myself waiver again; but to put my complete faith and trust in God.

It was a small hiccup in the big scheme of things, but, it was a giant lesson for me that was two-fold:

1. Answers can be found in the scriptures, especially when Heavenly Father uses them as His mouthpiece.

2. I should not doubt God. He will deliver all the He has promised and more.

He will keep His promise and help me. My job is to have faith and write- and leave the doubts behind.

Be All

2011-07-26T23:55:00.000-07:00

I realize now that last night's post seemed just a little depressing. Don't worry- no major tragedy or issue is happening here! However, I did want to post something a little more uplifting tonight.

Sunday my 7-year-old daughter was invited to say the opening prayer in Primary, our church children's meeting. She has been with us for just a little more than a year now, and is still fairly new to the church scene, but she didn't want any help.

She stepped up to the podium and readjusted the microphone, folded her arms and closed her eyes. She looked like an angel. Then she started praying:

"Dear Heavily Father, please help us to not be all wound up. And please help us to not be all crazy. And please help us to not be all loud." She emphasized each "be all" with what sounded like a bad Kardashian-sister accent: "beeyall." The leader standing behind her moved up after a long pause and help Grace finish her prayer. It was too funny!

Although Grace's prayer wasn't the typical prayer you'd expect to hear at the beginning of a meeting, it certainly wasn't any less appropriate, or any less heartfelt. And I loved the message. I think sometimes we focus so much on what we want, that we forget to ask for help with what we need.

If I were to say a 'Grace prayer' for myself today, it would sound something like this: Dear Heavenly Father, please help me to not be all be wound up. And please help me to not be all impatient with my kids. And please help me to not be all eating my sons entire birthday cake. And please help me to not be all hard on myself. But, please, help me to be all full of faith, and to be all aware of other's needs, and to be all living Thy will for me.

I can "be all" kinds of things, but I am grateful for a sweet daughter who has reminded me that I can ask God to help me "be all" the right things.

Turning it Over To Him

2011-07-25T23:38:00.000-07:00

The worst feeling in the world is the feeling of helplessness. I find great peace and strength in my power to choose the direction of my life and the people in it. But, when things beyond my control rob me of that power, and I realize there are certain things that I have no say in, I feel helpless.

As I study the situation out in my mind, I see no amount of change that I have control over. The outcome is not up to me, no matter the depths of my desire.

It is a precarious place to be. How helpless, how frustrating, how angry I can feel if I let myself. It is challenging, letting go of the desire to control, and the anger I feel because that control has been taken. Anger is so easy, and sometimes even empowering and in a strange way, comforting. It means there is someone or something else to blame.

When I have done all I can (which isn't much) I have only one thing left to do: turn it over to God. If anyone is capable of helping, it is Him. If anyone is qualified to understand, it is Him. If anyone can make a difference it is Him.

I may not be able to control the situation, but I can control how I respond and who I will become.

So, I turn it over to Him: the feelings of helplessness, anger, frustration and fear. I ask for strength, understanding, love and acceptance. It is hard to give up that final degree of control to Him. But I have. Now all that is left to do is pray and accept the outcome. Easier said than done- but I will try nonetheless.

So, I turn it over to Him.

I realize I cannot control the situation, or even how I feel, but I can control how I respond. I can control who I become through the helplessness. So, that is what I will do. I will hand it over to Him. That act of faith is just that: an act, a motion, a choice. It means I am not truly helpless. It means I change from being powerless to faithful, hopeless to cautiously optimistic, angry to open. It means even without the ability to control or influence the situation, I have learned I have complete control over me.

So, I turn it over to Him with faith and gratitude (and perhaps a short list of "okay, I know You are in charge but is is what I would like to see happen if you can swing it.") and pray for the strength and ability to accept the outcome, come what may.

Do As I'm Doing

2011-07-17T22:33:00.000-07:00

There is a song that the children in my church learn. It's sung on Sundays to help get their wiggles out. It's called, "Do As I'm Doing." The song leader stands in front of the class and does a motion, like rolling hands, clapping or marching and sings the song. The children stand up and sing with the music leader and mimics what she does as she sings:

Do as I'm doing, follow follow me,

Do as I'm doing, follow follow me.

I can do it high or low,
I can do it fast or slow,

Do as I'm doing, follow follow me,

Do as I'm doing, follow follow me.

It gets really fun, especially when we let the kids choose the action.

I am amazed at how eager the children are to follow someone else's example. They love this song.

Today in my class (I teach the 5 and 6 year olds) we had a visitor, Jack, a 4-year-old cousin of one of the children. He sat next to another boy, we'll call him Ben, who is 6 six years old.

Ben is pretty active, and completely hilarious. Jack watched Ben as much as he watched me. When Jack's attention was on me, he mimicked how I sat, and sat reverently as I taught about accountability and making good choices. But, when he focused his attention on Ben, he mimicked Ben's behavior, making faces and giggling and so on. (I had to give them both a few warnings, lol.) The moment, though, that Jack turned his attention back to me, he again sat very still and was reverent.

What we focus our attention has a powerful influence on how we behave ourselves. When we are focused on ourselves and our personal desires, are we more prone to act selfish and not give as freely to those around us? When we are focused on our careers, does that change how much time we spend with our family? If we are too focused the women (and men) we see on in the media, do we become more concerned with our appearance and less than on our substance?

What, or who, are you following? What, or who, has your attention? What, or who, do you act like?

If you are doing things, or thinking things, that you do not like, or are damaging, it's easy to change. Look to the perfect example of joy and peace: The Savior. Do as He is doing, follow, follow Him. Follow his example of kindness and love, service and charity. Follow his gospel and his commandments. Mimic his behavior as he teaches the gospel, prays, is baptized, and follows the will of Heavenly Father.

When Jack followed me, he was calm and he learned. When he followed Ben, he was having fun, but he wasn't learning. When we follow the Savior, we will find peace and we will learn. When we choose to follow other things, we night be having fun, but we will not learn...and we might even get in trouble.

So, do a self-check: Who or what are you following. If it's not the Savior, turn your attention, your head and your heart to Him. Do as He is doing, follow, follow Him.

---------------------

And just for the record- Ben is not a bad kid! (Don't worry Steph!) He is just very happy and animated :)

It's Hard to Find Good Help These Days

2011-07-12T01:18:00.000-07:00

It was my junior year. Prom. I asked Kevin to be my date. He said no, that he was going to ask Cynthia. I found out the day of the prom that he asked her and she said no. He decided if he couldn't go with her, he would not go at all. Not only was I not his first choice, but I wasn't his second or third. I wasn't even a choice! He would rather NOT go to the dance than go with me. I was crushed and humiliated.

So, I did what any teenage girl would do under that circumstance: I cried. I cried and cried and cried. I felt embarrassed I felt sorry for myself, I felt angry, I felt hurt. And I felt them all very loudly.

My older brother, Jim(the not-sensitive one), came into my room (I left my door open, just in case anyone heard and wanted to come give me some attention- even though I denied it) to see what the commotion was all about. I looked up at him through swollen, wet eyes. He just stood there, staring. After a few seconds, he simply said, "Hmmmm." Then he turned around and left! Now I was rejected by my brother, too! My cries grew louder and more pitiful.

A few moments later, my oldest brother, Bob (the sensitive one) came into my room. How did you ever know I was crying, I asked. Jim had told him (although I think everyone within a 5-mile radius probably were wondering what that pitiful sound was.) Bob sat with me and said all the right things: Kevin was an idiot, and someday he would regret not choosing me, and so on. I really didn't believe him, but it was just what I wanted, and needed to hear.

For a long time after that I felt upset that Jim didn't help me that night. He just stood there like an idiot and left to get the one who could really help- Bob. But, the older I got the more I began to understand Jim. He is not a touchy-feely guy. He was not sensitive in the least. So, when he came into my room and saw the sad condition I was in, he was not equipped nor prepared to give me the assistance he knew I needed. His way of helping me was getting me the help I needed. If Jim hadn't gone to get Bob, who knows how long I would have kept crying and feeling miserable.

Often times God sends people into our lives to help. It is difficult to recognize their assistance, because their help doesn't come in the way we feel we need and/or want it. So, often it goes unnoticed, and unappreciated

Sometimes we can get so caught up in what WE are feeling or experiencing, that we miss what others are doing for us. Our little Grace has been in our family for a year now. For the longest time I kept trying to figure out her needs, and how I can help her. I began to feel tremendous pressure to figure her out, to have all the answers. I finally broke down one evening. As I was praying about the heavy load of expectations and effort,the Spirit spoke softly but unmistakably clearly to me: You have not been given her to help her, she has been sent to you to help you.

I had not expected that. And, to be honest, I was taken back and a little disappointed. I am the one that is supposed to teach her. Not vice-versa. As I silently protested and questioned (bad girl!) But, the Spirit helped me understand that Grace was sent to me to help me become a better person. Just as I hadn't recognized the help Jim had been to me, I also had not recognized Grace's help to me.

My brother Bob fell from the coveted position of favorite brother, however, a few years later. I had begun to make some not-so-hot choices. He caught me and said he was going to tell my parents if I didn't. I called his bluff. He told my parents. I was grounded for the rest of my life (translated into parent vernacular- grounded for the summer.) I was furious with Bob for the longest time. But, after a while I began to see that he had actually helped me. I began to see that even though his actions were not what I considered helping at the time, they really did help me get back on the better path and become happier.

Jim, Grace, Bob- I know that God placed them in my family - and more specifically- in that particular time, to help me. It strengthens my testimony that God really is the Great Choreographer. He knows me and what I need better than I know myself. And thank goodness for that! I'm still trying to figure me out!

We've all heard someone at on point or another say, "It's hard to find good help these days." Maybe that's true. But, perhaps are more appropriate sentiment would be, "It's hard to recognize good help these days."

God has placed people in your life, right now, to help you feel better, grow, repent, or just be happy. They might not look and act like you want them to, or expect them too. But, the fact is that they are here for you. It may be someone that gets you to the one who helps. It might be someone you struggle with, that causes you to learn and grow. It might be someone who is brave enough to have you upset with them, as they lovingly (and sometimes not so lovingly) redirect your life.

You may recognize them, you might not. You may appreciate them, you might not. You may want them in your life, you might not. No matter what your will is, God tends to stick with His. And His will is that you learn and grow, with all the help He can give you.

Be open, be prayerful, be grateful. You might be surprised to find that the neighbor you can't stand has helped you become more tolerant, or the unruly child has helped you say more sincere prayers, and so on.

Maybe, just maybe, you might find that somewhere in Washington a blogger was prompted to write this to help you see God's hand in your life. Hmmmm.

Make the Call

2011-07-08T01:16:00.000-07:00

For some reason, this was a tough one to write. Not sure why- but here goes anyway.

While out on my jog yesterday morning I found a wallet on the ground. I looked in the wallet to find a way to get a hold of the owner. There was a drivers license with a PO Box. The picture on the drivers' license was one of a tough-looking, non-smiling twenty something muscled-up guy. I also found a library card and a registration card for a sexual deviancy in-patient program. Up to that point, I was ready and willing to find the person and return the wallet personally, but after I found the registration card, I questioned whether it was it the best decision? He could be a sexual offender or he could be an employee there. I didn't want to judge him. But...... after a lot of thought, I decided I needed to go a different route. My dad ended up taking the lost wallet to the local police station.

We are told never to judge people. That's not our job. We cannot possibly know all there is to know about a person to come up with a completely accurate assessment of their worth. So, did I judge this man without ever meeting him, based on a blank registration card? Some might say yes, but I disagree. I did not judge him, I made a judgement call regarding the situation.

What is the difference? I did not deem this man a bad man, who is condemned to a life of crime and deviancy. I simply looked at the situation - not the man himself- and decided it was not safe.

If I am walking down the street and I turn into a dark alley and see a large man dressed in black holding a knife, will I continue on because I am taught I should not judge others? No way! I make a judgement call, and run for my life. If there is a grizzled hitchhiker by the side of the road holding duct tap and a rope, do I still pull over and give him a ride? I'd say a hearty NO to that one, too.

These seem like no-brainers, but about the situations where it is not so easy to differentiate between judging and making a judgment call? What about the homeless man on the street holding a sign for money, or the stranger who asks for a few bucks to spare as you walk through the mall.

What about the situations that hit closer to home? An acquaintance who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for a ride home. A coworker who has a reputation for being back-stabbing wants to team up with you on a project. A flaky family member wants to borrow a large amount of money. Where do we draw the line between judging someone, and making a judgement call?

When you judge someone you place a value on their person as a whole (she is a good person, he is bad person) and you attached a label to them (i.e. loser, greedy, materialistic, lazy, shallow, etc). When you judge someone you take it upon yourself to be the expert on this persons past, present and future, and their ability to contribute to the world we share.

When making a judgment call, you look at the situation. The focus isn't the other person, but how your interaction with them will affect you. You look at a snapshot of the person (dark clothes, knife in hand) and how things appear at the moment (dark ally, all alone) and decide what kind of potential impact their presence will have in your life.

Judging is focused on the person. A judgement call is focused the situation and it's affect in your life.

Here I make a confession that only a handful of people have ever heard. (Mom, Dad, I hope you are sitting down.) When I was around 19 years old I picked up a hitchhiker. He was a young man, not much older than me. He was clean-cut and harmless looking. It was late at night and his friends left him without a ride home. We talked as I drove. He seemed nice enough. In fact, he was very nice- and very cute. We stopped at a park on the side of the road and swung on the swings in the moonlight while we continued to talk. (When people ask what is the dumbest thing I've ever done, this is what I think of, but never share!)

After about 20- minutes he stopped swinging and looked at me. His face was long and grim. He said something I have never forgotten. "Picking me up was a stupid thing to do. You are too trusting." He said. "You don't know me. I could be crazy. I could really hurt you."

I froze on the swing and said a prayer in my heart.

He continued, "But, I'm not crazy, and I won't hurt you. But the next guy could."

He then made me promise to never, EVER, pick up another hitchhiker again- even if they looked harmless. He told me to leave him there in the park and go home. I did just that.

Afterwards I was very shaken and embarrassed. I still am 20 years later as I think of all the the what-ifs. I thought I was being a good Samaritan. I thought that God would protect me since I was trying to do the right thing by giving him a ride. I do believe I was protected but not because I had good intentions, but because I needed to learn a powerful lesson. I am grateful for the protection and the lesson.

He was first hitchhiker I had ever picked up, and the last. I have often felt bad as I drive by hitchhikers. Many have looked harmless, even kind. But, the experience so long ago has been etched in my mind forever. I cannot imagine putting myself in that position ever again. This is where it is important to understand the difference between judging a person and making a judgment call. I am not judging the hitchhikers by my choice to not pick them up. I am making a judgement call.

Should you judge people? No.

Can you say no to someone without judging them? Yes.

Would saying no to certain people be a good judgment call? Yes.

Should we feel badly about saying no? No. (Although I still do sometimes- but that's a post for another time)

It can be difficult, especially for us women, to say no when someone needs help. We want to rescue the stray dogs, feed the poor, take troubled peopled under our wings. We don't want to judge others, so we open our hearts, our homes, our wallets and our lives to even the most unsavory characters. We want to save the world.

But, often times those that we try to help hurt us. We put ourselves in dangerous situations for the sake of being kind. We don't want say no. We end up being taken advantage of and wondering if this is our reward for trying to do good.

God has given us hearts that want to help and serve. But He has also given us minds to analyze the situation and decide if extending that help will be detrimental to us and the ones we love. It is our responsibility, and our right, to make judgement calls for ourselves and our family. He trusts you to make the choices that are best for you and the ones you love.

Making the right call isnt't always easy. It might hurt or offend others. It might even make them mad. But, I know one thing, I never want to feel like I did that dark night 20 years ago. I made a terrible judgement call, all in the name of doing good. I could have paid dearly for it. I am grateful the He saw fit to let it be a lesson taught, rather than a trauma to overcome.

Turn to God in faith. He can bless you with clarity and courage to make the judgment calls that are best for you in your life. Doling out righteous judgment is His job. Making good judgement calls is yours. It's up to you. You make the call.

Room to Grow

2011-07-04T08:33:00.000-07:00

My mother passed down many wonderful things to me. But she did not pass down a green thumb. I wish she did. I tried to have indoor plants, but despite my best efforts, I killed them all. (I am convinced that at least half of them were suicide.) So, I stopped trying and went a different route. My home now has a array of beautiful plants- all still very much green and very much fake.

In my mothers home is a beautiful spider plant. It started out small, a shoot from another plant. Over the years she has watered it, gave it sunlight, nurtured it and loved it. It grew to a lovely medium size and began to produce shoots of its own. For years this spider plant sat in the same spot, in between two chairs by the window in her sun room.

Then, last March, I came to visit my parents. My mother and I sat down in the chairs in her sun room to chat. There I noticed a new spider plant. It was twice as big as the old one, and was overflowing with shoots. I asked her where she got it. She explained that this was the same plant that has been sitting there for years. When I asked how it got so big, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "I just put it in a bigger pot and gave it room to grow. It did the rest."

In many ways we are all like this beautiful plant.

If you look at the bottom of the spider plant, you will see nearly a hundred shoots. One plant has the power to create more. If left alone, these shoots will continue to grow in size. But, if moved into their own pots, they have the potential to become as big as their mother plant.

We are all offspring of our Father in Heaven. He created us. When we lived with Him before this life we learned and grew. But, there came a time when He knew that to reach our greatest potential, we had to be moved to our own pots. That is why we are here now. We have been given this earthly life to continue to grow, to become our own plants, to reach our potential.

Throughout life, each of us are different sizes and at different stages in our growth. Each of us has similar needs as the plant: to be fed, to be nurtured, to be loved. When these needs are met, we are happy. We are content.

But, Heavenly Father knows that contentment is not the purpose of life. Growth is. We have a greater potential than the creatures we are now. And our loving Father knows that in order for us to continue grow, He needs to give us more room. We need to be moved to a bigger pot.

Each time we are "repotted" we are given room to grow. For some that bigger pot might be a new addition to the family. For others, it might be the inability to add to the family. For some, a bigger pot might take the form of a trial: a wayward child, a physical disease, a loved one gone astray. And for others the pot might be more positive: a new job, a new talent, a new move, or even just meeting a new friend.

Being "repotted" can be a scary thing. Sometimes we fight it. We long for the smaller, comfortable, familiar pot. The one where our feet touched the bottom, we could see all around us, and we felt safe. When introduced to the new space, we might question ourselves, and God : "Why must I grow? Why must things be this hard? I can't do this. Why would God do this to me?" So, we continue to live as we did in our smaller pot. We do not stretch. We do not reach. Living this way seems safe, but it isn't. It creates fear, frustration, regret, and even resentment. We curl up in a ball. We do not grow.

But, when faced with new experiences, with faith and courage we thrive like my mom's beautiful plant. We can stretch ourselves to fill the space. We can find strength we did not know we had. We may find talents that had been hidden. We will develop faith stronger than we once had. We will learn, grow, and even surprise ourselves. If not for the new pot, we would have stayed the same ol' us, content and still. But, when given the room and the opportunity, we can become more than who we were. We can become like Him.

So, when things get tough, when new challenges come, when new opportunities are presented, know that all is not lost, it is only a new pot. Trust the Master Gardner who repotted you. Trust yourself and your abilities as He does. Have faith and courage. Reach and stretch and grow. Fill your new pot. And reach your potential.

A Good Old-fashioned Pep Talk

2011-06-30T10:58:00.000-07:00

I've been married for 16 years now. My husband and I have learned a lot about each other in that time. He's learned that I am emotional. I've learned he's not psychic. A few years ago I was really struggling with something. My husband, like most men, is a fixer. Out of love, he started coming up with all kinds of solutions to my "problem." But, I didn't want to be fixed. I just wanted to be heard.

Finally, in frustration, he says, "I don't know how to fix this, Michelle!"

I replied, "I can fix it myself. All I need you to do is listen. Then tell me that I am alright and things will be OK!"

And that's just what he did. He looked me right in the eyes and said, "Michelle. You are more than alright. And, yes, everything will be OK."

Just those few words brought a flood (albeit a small one, but just what I needed) over me. That's all I wanted to hear. I didn't want what felt like advice, a lecture, solutions or anything. I just wanted to know I'm not a moron and thing would turn out fine. And, even though I told him what do say, I knew he truly felt that way. I just needed and old-fashioned pep talk. And I needed to hear it from him.

Knowing that my husband has all the best intentions, but still is not psychic enough to know what is in my head, I decided to take a fairly proactive approach to my needs and make things easier for him, and better for me. So since then, when I am having a mini (or large) breakdown, I will simply tell my husband at the beginning of my rant, "I don't want you to fix things. I just want you to listen. I just need to hear you say that I am alright and that everything is OK." And he does. And I always feel better.

I met with a dear friend that other day over breakfast. She had just been through a very traumatic experience and I wanted to talk with her about it. I was worried about her. We met and I listened for two hours to her talk and, a few times, shed tears. At the end of the conversation she noticed I was smiling. Taken aback she asked me why.

"I'm smiling because you don't need any help at all. You are doing a lot better than you realize. Everything is going to be just fine, and so are you. You just need to see it."

She wasn't expecting me to say that. And, I'll be honest, neither was I. I came fully prepared to talk with her about prayer and faith and being strong and all that stuff that we say to each other. I lover her and I wanted to help her. But, she didn't need to be fixed or to be helped. She was actually doing pretty well- she just didn't realize it.

Sometimes life is challenging. Life throws us a curve ball, we make mistakes, and sometimes it's just plain hard! So, today I want to offer a good old-fashioned pep talk - just for you.

Ready?

You are alright. And everything will be OK.

No advice. No fixing. Just saying:

You are alright. And everything will be OK.

Sometimes we get surrounded by our trials that it is hard to feel in control. We try to make sense of everything. We question what is happening, and maybe even why. We look out our situation, which undesirable to say the least, and question how to make it better, how can it be fixed. Will it ever be the same?

Trials can be hard enough alone. But we can complicate matters when we don't stop there. We begin to question ourselves. We question our ability to cope and survive- IF we survive. We worry that we will fail, not only ourselves, but those around us who need us. We take the role of the sole pillar of strength and tell ourselves that if we fall, everything around us will. When we question and doubt ourselves, it steals our ability to manage ourselves. We are our own kryptonite.

The adversary would have you believe that you are weak. He is the thief of hope and the strength. He knows that when you feel powerless, you will act powerless. He wants to blind you to the fact that even when you are hurting and struggling.

But, just know this: You are doing better than you think you are.You are stronger than you realize. You will make it through.

During difficult times, it might be tempting to not only question yourself, but to question God. That is, perhaps, Satan's most favorite weapon. He would have you wonder if God loved you why would He let this happen? He would have you doubt God can hear you. He would have you even doubt there is a God.

But, know this: God is real. He does love you. He hears you. He will support and guide you. He has faith in you. He is ultimately in control- and as you have faith in Him, it will be OK.

I know that life can challenging. As you read this right now, you might be hurting. You might be struggling. You might be doubting yourself and your decisions. You might be wondering if you have the strength to cope. Your faith might be wavering. Your heart might be breaking. You might be confused. You might be tired. You might even be crying. But listen to me and believe what I say:

You are alright. And everything will be OK.

(Imagine a big hug through the internet,too)

PS: There is an awesome quote by Victor Kiam that says: "Even if you fall on your face, you're still moving forward." Now- trust yourself, trust God, and move forward. And tell yourself: I am alright. Everything is going to be OK.

Pride Cometh Before the Putting Green

2011-06-22T12:08:00.000-07:00

A few years back my husband and I took the kids miniature golfing. I was having a great time. The weather was beautiful, the kids were behaving, and I was winning.

At about the 3rd hole my husband started giving me advice on my grip. By the 7th hole I had grown tired of his "help." Little did I know this was the start of a three-way conversation that would change me forever.

Me: "Look, I don't need your help. I am the one winning here."

Jerey: "Um, I think you have a pride issue."

In my head: Whatever. You're a sore loser.

Me: "No, I don't. I just think you should focus your efforts on your game rather than mine. Maybe then you might catch up."

God: You have a pride issue.

Me to God: Oh, I didn't know you were here. No, it's not pride, I'm just better than they are.

Jerey: "You need to get a better grip on something other than your golf club."

God: Yes, you do.

Me: "Maybe, but I am still winning."

God: Not when you are prideful.

I won the miniature golf game that night, then I pouted the rest of the evening. They were right. I had an issue with pride. The kicker is that I hadn't really realized it before. After that I began to look at other facets of my life for evidence of pride. Sad to say, I found it creeping in everywhere. So,I started to study pride. I mean, how bad can a little pride really be?

I have a really great reference book that contains scriptures and quotes on all type of topics. I looked up pride in the index. It said "See Sin." I looked up Sin in the book. Pride was right after murder. That's a pretty good indicator that pride is pretty bad.

What is pride? I guess the most basic definition is when we boast in and put faith in our own wisdom, power or possessions. We compare ourselves to others who have less and feel more. We take credit for our own accomplishments, rather than given credit to the one who created us.

I didn't realize I had an issue with pride. Do you think you do?

Ask yourself these questions and give HONEST answers.

1. Is it hard for me to admit my own faults?

2. In arguments, am I usually right?

3. Do I get angry when someone offends me?

4. Do I deny help, especially when I really need it?

5. Do I ever feel better than other people?

6. Do I ever boast about my achievements and results with friends?

7. After I win an argument with someone, and I begin to think I was in the wrong, do I let it go?

8. Do I take credit for the gifts God has given me and who I am?

9. Do I boast in my own strengths?

10. Do I get angry when I receive criticism?

11. Do I refrain from doing things that would be embarrassing?

12. Do I get angry when people don't agree with me?

13. Am I critical of other people?

14. Do I interrupt others often to share my thoughts and comments?

15. Do arrogant people really annoy me?

If you answered "yes" to any of the above questions, you have a pride issue.

My guess is you are a great person, but you did say yes to at least a few of the questions above. And you might even be surprised that you have an issue with pride. I mean, what's the big deal about having some pride, right?

Well, pride leaves little room for humility, teachability, selflessness, gratitude, and love.

Pride is one of Satan's greatest tools- and one of his oldest. Prophets of old warned: Jacob- "O that ye would listen unto the word of his commands, and let not this pride of your hearts destroy your souls." Malachi-"For, behold, the day cometh, that shall burn as an oven; and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be stubble."

Notice how Malachi spoke of the proud AND the wicked. For those who profess to be Christians, most are actively seeking to erase wickedness and sin from their lives. Some are very good at it.

I have known many Christian people who lead such clean and good lives, that they begin to relish in it, to the point of looking down on others who don't live the same kind of life.

Satan would have you puffed with pride, thinking you are better than the sinner, the poor folk, the rich folk, your neighbor next door. Pride gives false security, a skewed sense of worth and confidence, and blinds us to the reality of this life and who we really are. This is how proud destroys the soul.

The moment we let pride into our lives, we begin to exclude the very God that made us.

It took something as small, yet powerful, as a golf game to help me see that I struggle with pride. I had never really thought about it before. I had confidence and I knew I liked to accomplish things on my own merit. Somehow, somewhere, those good intentions grew into pride.

As I work to get rid of pride, I have found a new sense of peace and direction. My worth does not come from a comparison of others (although I do suffer a lame-avalanche once in a while). I find that I am more grateful to God for the unique person that I am. I don't have to win at everything (although, I still love to compete.) I can laugh at myself more. I can see more good in others. I can see my weaknesses without shame. My relationship with God has grown stronger.

One of the greatest outcomes of my pride-purging battle has been gaining a deeper understanding of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and how it applies to me. When I understand that I have no chance without forgiveness, and that forgiveness is truly a gift, I am humbled. Humility opens the door to blessings. Blessings bring growth and perspective. I recognize who I am and my place in this world. I am no better, and no worse, than any other person out there- even if I am winning at miniature golf.

On the putting green years ago, my husband lovingly (mostly) told me I needed to get a grip on something else besides my golf club. He was right. Everyday I try to get a grip on pride and replace it with humility.

I am not completely pride-free. I'm not sure if there are many out there who have reached that level of humility. But, if I'm as good at that as I am at miniature golf, I'd say I've got a good shot.

The Lame Avalanche

2011-06-20T22:42:00.000-07:00

An innocent cough, the drop of a snowflake, or the landing of an innocent bird. These things sound harmless and benign, but each, if happened at the right (or wrong) moment, can trigger a devastating Avalanche.

My avalanche started a few days ago.

I watched a show on TV featuring a few "Mommy bloggers." They were all looked put-together. They all did crafts or photography. They all wildly popular blogs with hundreds of followers. They said things like, "It's so easy to blog. Just blog what you love and you'll be successful and everything will turn out great.You can be happy like us." OK- they didn't say exactly that, but that's what I heard. They were successful bloggers and if I did what they did, I could be, too. And to top it off, they were all skinny.

I looked up their "Mommy blogs." They wrote every day about their husbands, their 20 children, their carpooling, their crafts, their photography, and they do make it all sound so brilliant and wonderful. They even made snotty noses sound appealing. I saw pictures of their beautifully manicured children and clean houses. Depressing.

I read them and felt envy. Then I felt a touch of inadequacy.

The proverbial bird had landed. And the avalanche began.

I began to wonder if I should have a blog like theirs. I thought I'd give it a try. My first attempt was titled, "It's 3pm, I haven't showered, there is a strange smell coming from somewhere in my house that I can't pin-point, my kids have no clean clothes, I have a headache, I just plucked 5 gray hairs from my head this morning, and the kids are out of school for the summer, now what?" Lame. It never got posted.

I began to think: I just needed to accept that I am never going to be crafty, or be an awesome photographer, or have the literary ability to make snot stories sound cool, or anything awesome like those ladies. Lame.

I felt bad that I wasn't like them. Lame. Lame. Lame.

Then the avalanche picked up momentum.

This weekend a good friend of mine questioned my blogging. They are not a fan of blogging in the first place, thinking it is just a waste of time. They told me it seemed like I needed to "save the world" with my blog and thought my efforts might be better spent somewhere else. Then I began to question not just my blog, but myself.

The avalanche began to hijack rational thought. It was not only crashing into my blogoshpere, but started wreaking havoc in other areas of my mind.

Not only is my blog lame, but oh yeah, my muffin-top is lame. And my messy house is lame. And my 10 year old clothes in my closet are lame. And my parenting style is lame. And my sense of humor is lame. And my..... The list went on and on until it culminated into the final death-blow: I am lame.

So, it is because of this lame-fest that I written for a while. I just haven't felt I had anything not-lame to say. Now that is lame.

Tell me, has this ever happened to you? Or am I alone in this total Lame Avalanche?

Have you ever been going along, just fine, then one little thing sets you off and an avalanche of comparison, doubts, self-pity and junk start flowing? Then, they feed off each other and soon you are having the biggest pity-party ever? Have you ever felt just totally lame?

Well, I'll tell you one thing: feeling lame is very tiring. I am exhausted from all this lameness! Self-pity is very taxing.

I've made a decision to stop the lameness, and reverse the lameness avalanche.

Kudos to the skinny "Mommy Bloggers." I can be happy for them and still be me.
Hats off to my muffin-top. I had two cupcakes yesterday and they were DELICIOUS!
My sense of humor is awesome- to the three people that get me.

And, I love my blog. Even if some people don't.

Most of all, I like me. I'm not lame. True, I wear super-old clothes, have a stream of unfolded laundry and can't bake bread without burning it. But, I can see deeper meaning in a soda can. I am an expert at Guitar Hero. And I can eat close to a half-gallon of ice cream and not get sick.

And in my own way, I help people think about God. That's the furthest thing from lame that I can think of.

My guess is that if you think about it, you'll find that you are pretty far from lame yourself :)

Happiness

2011-06-15T00:43:00.000-07:00

Well, my class on the Basics of Happiness was tonight. There was a good turn out, and I loved the feedback from the women. This is a bare-bones outline of the class:

Happiness comes from 4 main sources:

1. Our sense of worth/value

2. A feeling of accomplishment and/or success

3. Love- giving and receiving

4. Selfless service

WHEN OUR EXPECTATIONS (AND HOPES) ARE ACHIEVED IN THESE AREAS, WE FEEL A LEVEL OF HAPPINESS, OR CONTENTMENT

That is why a person who values money and fame can feel an honest sense of happiness and satisfaction when he reaches his goal. Without qualifying or quantifying that happiness- it is happiness to them all the same.

There are 3 ways to gain/increase happiness:

1. Genetics: There are optimists and there are pessimists. The cup is seen as either half full or half empty. We all perceive a certain level of happiness in our lives because that's how we are wired. Our innate perception, no matter how positive or negative, doesn't change the amount of water in it.

2. Created: No matter what level of happiness we are genetically disposed to, we were all born with the capacity to create additional happiness based on our choices and efforts.

We can look at the main sources of happiness and ask ourselves: How is the definer of my value and the author of my expectations and goals? Hollywood says my size 12 is fat- so does that lower my feeling of value or worth? Society says that I should have a spotless home and career and have my children involved in all kinds of sports and music - so are those my expectations for myself, too?

If happiness comes when our expectations are met, then it is our responsibility to make sure our values and goals are of God's, not the worlds.

With the power of PERSPECTIVE and our purposeful CHOICES, we can find happiness. As we align our will with Gods, as we begin to see ourselves and our lives through His eye, our goals will change, our expectations will change, the way we love and allow ourselves to be love change, and the way we serve others will change.

I love the Serenity Prayer:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Prayer is the key to creating happiness. We can pray for perspective, and courage to make choices that will ultimately brings us the greatest happiness- living God's will. My brother put it perfectly in his comment on the last post: For the Baptist preacher, the key to happiness is converting a soul to God. For the teenager living in Southern California the key to happiness is "making it big" as an actor. For an African, the key to happiness is having pure, disease free drinking water for her children. The key to happiness can be defined by several different desires and passions, so I would suggest context is a profound qualifier for the lesson, which I am sure you have prepared!! For me, as a father of four, an unemployed recovering addict, the key to happiness for is twofold. First is knowing through personal prayer what the will of the Father is for me, second, being brave enough to do what He expects of me. It is only when I have successfully accomplished matching both understanding coupled with action that I feel happy. Otherwise, life sucks.

Aristotle said: "Happiness is an activity of the soul in accordance with virtue." As we choose to live our lives in accordance with virtue, or God's will for us, we create happiness for ourselves.

3. The third source of happiness is that happiness which is Given: Even after all I can do, my cup is not full.

George Q Cannon said: It is not given to men and women on the earth to be entirely satisfied, if they seek for satisfaction and happiness in worldly things. There is only one way in which perfect happiness can be obtained, and that is by having the Spirit of God.”

Perfect happiness, or complete happiness, can come only as a gift from God through the Spirit. You may have felt it in your life already. There are moments when I look at my children and I see them as He does, and I am overwhelmed with joy. That is a gift.

There are moments when I am driving and saying a prayer of gratitude, and I feel an added measure of peace and happiness. That is a gift.

There are even moments when I am in tears, on my knees, just praying for something, and I have felt the calming and reassurance rest of happiness and love. That is a gift.

After all we can do, we are still deficient. But, through the tender love of a Heavenly Father and the miracle of our elder brother's Atonement, we can be made whole and perfect. Even in something as simple as happiness.

One last thing we talked about along with Perspective and Choice was Gratitude. Gordon B Hinckley said: "Gratitude is of the very essence of worship. … When you walk with gratitude, you do not walk with arrogance and conceit and egotism, you walk with a spirit of thanksgiving that is becoming to you and will bless your lives". Sincerely giving thanks not only helps us recognize our blessings, it also unlocks the doors of heaven and helps us feel God's love.”

The question was asked: Can you feel happiness when things are hard or you are sad? The answer is a resounding, YES!

Life wasn't meant to be continuous moments of happiness and glee. There are trials, there are troubles, there are pains and sadness. But, if we can be grateful for all the moments in our lives, and see them for what they are - all opportunities to grow- then we can still feel a sense of happiness even in our darkest moments. Especially when those darkest moments are what bring us closest to God.

Happiness isn't all joy, laughing and giggles. Perfect happiness is peace, strength, perspective, faith, courage and action. Happiness is living a life tandem to God's will, taking full advantage of the blessings of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, and loving them, yourself and those around you.

We have the power, and the obligation, to create happiness within ourselves. Joshua said, "Choose you this day whom you will serve." WE have a choice- who will we look to to define our worth and set our goals and standards.

As we make honest and concerted efforts to choose His ways, He will bless us with an added measure of happiness and joy, until our happiness is full, complete and perfect.

The irony of it all is that today was a really tough day for me. I started out the day in tears of frustration and sorrow, and ended it with tears of gratitude and happiness. My circumstances didn't change, but my perspective did. I made the choice to see things differently. And when I did, I was rewarded with a peace and comfort and happiness that I know did not come from me. What a blessing this has been for me in my life.

Gordon B Hinckley also said: "Cultivate an attitude of happiness. Cultivate a spirit of optimism. Walk with faith, rejoicing in the beauties of nature, in the goodness of those you love, in the testimony which you carry in your heart concerning things divine."

I hope you have success in finding and creating and receiving happiness in your lives.

What is the Key to Happiness?

2011-06-12T17:38:00.000-07:00

I am going to teach a class about this on Tuesday. If you live in my area, you are invited to come.

This topic has been on my mind a lot lately. I have my own ideas, but I want to hear from you. Even if you don't usually leave comments, please just take a second to tell me what you think is the key to happiness.

I'll post my thoughts later in the week after my class.

Spalories

2011-06-08T12:52:00.000-07:00

There is an empty soda can sitting on my desk. In big letters it brags, "0 CALORIE." That means I can drink it and not gain any weight. I don't want to gain weight, so I drink it.

Sometimes, when I am hungry, I will drink my 0 calorie soda to satisfy my craving. I feel full and I didn't take in any extra calories! Sounds like a win-win. But it's not.

The other day I was in a hurry. So, instead of eating lunch, I grabbed a soda so my stomach would stop making noise. It worked. My stomach stopped making noise. But, by the end of the day, even though I had ingested plenty, I had, in reality, taken in little nutrition. Our bodies need proper nutrition to feel strong, fight diseases and to function at it's fullest capacity. It takes great care and attention to nurture and feed our bodies the right way.

Our soul need the same care and attention. It would be great if our spirituality could be measured in something like calories. For fun, I'll call them spalories (spiritual calories). Spalories are vital to our spiritual health and well-being. We must take in healthy, good spalories so our spirits ( our testimony and spirituality) will be strong, fight temptation and function to it's fullest capacity.

There are many ways to get spalories.

Here is short spalorie chart:

Prayer: 500 spalories ( add 100 bonus spalories for kneeling. Add 300 more for crying tears of gratitude or pleading)

Scripture Study: 500 spalories

Attending Church meetings and activities: 1000 spalories

Doing a selfless act of service: 600 spalories

Sharing your testimony: 1500 spalories (that is sometimes really scary!)

Hugging your children: 200 spalories.

Reading this blog: 300 spalories (just kidding.....or maybe not!)

You get the drift. There are many things we can do that are worth plenty of spalories. I'm sure you can add plenty more to the list.

Let's say I need 2000 spalories a day for proper spiritual nutrition. I could pray twice a day and read my scriptures and be almost completely nourished.

But, Satan has come up with his own 0-spalorie replacements. He would rather you partake of his goods than those that provide real spiritual nutrition.

Here is the adversaries 0 spalorie chart:

Standing in front of the mirror giving dirty looks at your thighs: 0 spalories

Yelling at your kids: 0 spalories

Being critical of others: 0 spalories

Watching inappropriate tv shows and movies: 0 spalories

The list goes on and on. You could spend a lot of time on these activities and have a zero spalorie balance at the end of the day! In fact, if you do these things often enough they can actually take away from your spalorie reserve!

What's a spalorie reserve, you ask?

Great question!

We know that testimony and spirituality are not static. They either grow or shrink each day, depending on our spaloric intake. If I don't get enough spalories, my testimony and spirituality lessen- even if it is just by the slightest, imperceptible degree. But, if I meet or exceed my daily spaloric intake, my testimony and spirituality will grow stronger. And, if I go way over and above that amount, I will create a spiritual foundation of spaloric reserve!

But, if I neglect my spaloric intake, and replace it with 0-spaloric activities and attitudes, my reserves with quickly shrink.

Are all 0-spaloric activities bad? No. I like a good reality TV show once in a while. But, it is bad when it replaces high-spaloric activities, like when I replaced my healthy lunch with a soda.

Bottom line: Feed your soul. God has given us countless ways to take in spalories. The numbers above are just for fun. Figure out for yourself your spaloric intake. Make a spaloric goal for yourself. Find the things that are high in spaloric value that you just love, and indulge yourself!

Watch what you say and do. Ask yourself, how many spalories is this worth? How many spalories do I need to nourish my soul today?

Love your spalories, love yourself! I think that's my new slogan!

Little Lucy

2011-06-05T21:04:00.000-07:00

I remember the day I heard about Lucy and her accident. It was Sunday. I was walking down the hallway to teach my 5 year old class when a woman in the hall stops me and tells me a frightening story. Little Lucy, the young baby daughter of our friend from church, had been taken to the hospital. No one knew exactly what had happened, just that she had been hurt.

By the end of Sunday services, most of the congregation had been made aware. Meals had already been scheduled to be brought in. Care for Little Lucy's older brother had been taken care of. Prayers had already been whispered. Some tears had already been shed. Little Lucy was loved by all of us, as was her good parents.

Through phone calls and subsequent visits, we learned that that Sunday morning, Lucy had been playing on the floor as her family readied for church. They had just moved into a new home and she was having fun exploring the family room. She was beginning to walk, and would often pull herself up onto furniture and other items to stand up. This particular morning, Little Lucy crawled over to the gas fireplace. She pulled herself to a standing position on the hot glass, leaning her full weight on her small hands. Her quick-thinking parents immediately sought medical care. It was a long day of tears, doctors, praying and waiting.

After a few days in the hospital, Lucy was able to come home. My husband and I paid the family a visit. Little Lucy was already in bed. We sat with her parents. They were understandably tired. As we listened to them retelling their experience, I was moved by their faith in the face adversity. My heart ached when they told me of the pain and suffering Lucy had experienced. I thought to myself how grateful I was that it was over. She was home now, safe and warm in bed. It was then that her mother told me of Lucy's recovery process.

The doctors had performed skin grafts to save her hands. They wrapped her hands and arms up to the elbows to allow protection as they healed. During the healing process, Lucy's palms needed to be stretched to prevent the skin on her palms from healing too tight. Stephanie, Lucy's mom, smiled through tired, wet eyes as she explained to my husband and I that this had to happen not once or twice a day, but once very hour.

Does it hurt? I asked. The answer was a tearful, Yes, but it's the only way for her hands to heal correctly. If the palms weren't stretched, the skin would heal too tight and Lucy would not be able to open her hands fully as she grew older. Oh this poor little girl! was my first thought. Not only to have endured such initial pain and trauma, but to have to experience pain over and over again. How heartbreaking!

The following Sunday I ran into Stephanie and Lucy in the bathroom at church. It was time for the hourly hand stretching. I watched as she put smiling Lucy on the counter and talked softly to her. Then she gently held her hand. Lucy pulled back and began to whimper. She must have understood what was about to happen. Then, calmly and gently, Stephanie pulled Lucy's fingers back to stretch the healing skin. Each time she did this, small tears appeared in the healing skin. It was necessary for proper healing and mobility. Lucy cried. Stephanie spoke the tender words of a loving parent, "I know it hurts. I'm sorry. We are almost done. You are doing so well. Mommy's right here. I love you." I turned my head to the floor. I felt I was invading a private moment between mother and daughter. I was also trying to hide my tears. I wasn't merely watching a painful, yet tender exchange between child and parent. It struck me that I was witnessing a profound representation of the relationship between me and my heavenly parent.

There are many times in my life where I have struggled, where I feel tired and stretched. My younger prayers had often been, "Heavenly Father, how can you let this happen to me?" It was difficult for me to understand how feeling so much pain could be for my benefit. I thought that if God loved me, He would save me from such pain. But it was not the case.

Little Lucy hurt herself, even though she was not fully aware of what she was doing. She had loving parents that helped to her heal. Even though it hurt, they knew that stretching her hands would lead to full use of them in the future. Temporary pain now would lead to full recover later. Her parents knew this, so they stretched her hands for her benefit, even though it broke their hearts to do it. Out of their deep love for her, and their understanding of the necessity of the stretching, they not only allowed Lucy to hurt, but had to be the instigators of the the pain. It took great courage and strength, but they did what was hard now, but best for Lucy in the long run.

It might have been easier for them to say, 'No, we don't want Lucy to hurt anymore. She's been through enough. We want to protect her. We will not stretch her hands.' But, they were looking at the situation through the eyes of loving parents. They were not just looking at and loving Little Lucy now, but they were also looking at and loving Lucy of the future: Lucy the future piano player, Lucy the future mother, Lucy the future artist, Lucy with full use of her hands.

When we feel stretched and are suffering, it might be easier (and what we think we want) for Heavenly Father to say, 'No, I don't want you to hurt anymore. You've been through enough. I want to protect you. I will not stretch you anymore.' We would, momentarily, be free from pain or discomfort. We might feel relief and happiness. We tend to think about us and our pain.

But, our Father in Heaven loves us dearly and perfectly. He does not find any joy in our suffering. He knows it is the only way. Heavenly Father is not only looking at and loving us now. He is also looking at and loving our future selves. He knows in order for our hearts to heal, it will hurt. He knows for us to grow, we need to be stretched. He knows that for us to become like Jesus Christ, we need to change, and sometimes that change only comes through adversity.

Watching Lucy get her hands stretched was difficult for me. I knew it hurt her. And I knew it hurt her mother to do it. That was about three months ago. I saw Lucy at church today, bandage free and happy as can be. You can still see the healing grafts. But you can also see the mobility in her hands, and the nearly full use she has of them. This is credited to the doctors that worked on her. But ever so much more to the sacrifice, hard work, dedication and love of her good parents.

What a powerful example this family was to me and the entire congregation of the power of the love of a parent, and a Heavenly parent. It reminds me there is purpose to my suffering. It also helps me to understand that my Father in Heaven allows me to suffer because He loves me; and that it is not an easy thing for Him. It gives me hope that I can be healed, that pain is only temporary. Now, when I am being stretched, I can hear my Father telling me softly and lovingly, "I know it hurts. I'm sorry. We are almost done. You are doing so well. I'm right here I love you."

To Honor Those That Have Fallen

2011-05-30T12:25:00.001-07:00

Sometimes no allegories are needed. The truth is beautiful in it's simplicity.

We honor those who have died while serving our country. My faith teaches that all who die will live again. Below is a message of hope and faith.

I hope will uplift you and bring peace to those that have lost loved ones in war and other times.

The Elevator Called Me Fat!

2011-05-25T20:04:00.000-07:00

I have had elevator issues in the past, but now I must add them to the list of things I officially hate, right along side bears, sharks, and heights (technically, being mauled and/or eaten by bears and sharks, and fallen to my death from a high place.)

Yesterday I was waiting with a group of about ten people to get onto an elevator. As the door opened our group began to get enter the elevator. Since I was in the back of the group, I was one of the last ones to get on. By the time I got to the elevator door I could see it was pretty full. I stood back with one other woman and motioned for the group to go on without us, that we would catch the next elevator. After a little maneuvering and cajoling, the group convinced my friend and me that there was enough room. We squeezed into a small opening and the doors closed. The elevator didn't move.

Then something very unexpected happened. The doors opened back up. A feminine voice came through the over-head speakers, "Weight overload. There is too much weight on this elevator. Weight overload." I could not believe it. The elevator just called me fat.

Red-faced, I made some lame joke about eating brownies for breakfast (I actually had frosted mini-wheats) and my friend and I sheepishly walked off the elevator back into the lobby. I guess it was pretty funny- but we weren't laughing. We caught the next elevator up, and was greeted by the rest of the group on the 5th floor. They were still laughing. We still weren't.

Today I decided to take the same elevator up to the cafeteria on the 10th floor. By now I realized that the elevator was equipped with an audio system that tells you what floor you are on, what is located on that floor, and if you are too fat to ride in it. This time I was alone, so I was pretty sure I wouldn't be called fat again, but I crossed in my fingers and sucked in my gut just in case. I pushed the button and the elevator went up floors 6,7,8,9. Then elevator stopped and the sweet feminine voice informed me I was on the 10th floor where the cafeteria is located. Then, without even opening it's doors, the elevator started back down again. WHAT! First she called me fat, and now she is blatantly taunting me!

I pushed the 10 button hard repeatedly (I was really hungry- and frustrated!). The elevator stopped at the 8th floor, and without opening it's doors or even saying anything (although I could have sworn I heard her laugh), it started up towards the 10th floor again. Finally it reached the 10th floor. The doors opened veeeeerrrryyyy slowly. As soon as there was enough opening, I got out! I didn't like this elevator and I was convinced it didn't like me. First she called me fat, and then she wouldn't take me to the cafeteria. I was almost expecting to hear her say, "Want to play a game?" in the some creepy mono-tone computer voice (Anyone remember War Games?).

Needless to say, after I finished my lunch in the cafeteria I took the stairs back down. I mean, I really didn't need someone telling me my load was too big, or not taking me where I want to go....or do I?

As I drove home I thought about my harrowing elevator incidents, in hindsight I couldn't help but see a gospel theme: God really does take care of us. Let me explain.

The elevator has a built-in system that does not allow the load to exceed a certain weight. This prevents wear and damage to the elevator mechanism. It assures the elevator functions properly and passengers are kept safe (even if we do feel like fatties and have to get off.) We, like the elevator, carry loads every day. Sometimes the load is light, and other times the load is heavy. And sometimes the load seems to great to bear. But, Heavenly Father has a system that does not allow us to carry a load that is too heavy to bear, or be tried beyond what we can handle. He has promised us that we will not be given more than we can handle. He will not allow us to become overburdened to the point of immobility and failure. He will not give us more than we have strength to carry. No matter what burdens we bear today, right now, He knows we can handle it.

The key is that we must rely on Him to help with the load. Not only the heavy ones, but even the light ones. We can do it, He has already told us that. But, He is here to help. He will never interfere with our agency- BUT we untie His hands to work miracles in our lives if we turn our agency over to Him. Not only will our loads never be too great, but our ability and capacity to bear them will be greater.

Now, speaking to the second elevator incident: I really don't have a rational explanation why the stupid elevator didn't stop on the 10th floor. (Apparently the War Games theory isn't rational- but it sounded good.) But, that experience made me think even further about Heavenly Father. Sometimes we push our buttons and think we know exactly where we should be going. Although Heavenly Father does not interfere with our agency (I got in the elevator and I pushed the button because I wanted some candy) He does have some influence on us and our lives. Sometimes His will for us is different than ours. He cannot force us to follow Him, but if we are faithful He will lead us and guide us to where He knows we will ultimately find the greatest joy.

I loved relearning those lessons.

I still hate elevators.....especially ones that call me fat.

Now I See

2011-05-19T10:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I spent the afternoon at my ophthalmologists office getting my eyes checked. It has become an every other year ritual since I was 14 when I first began wearing glasses and/or contacts.

Over the past few months my vision has really taken a turn for the worse. Even with my contacts in street signs were hard to read. Pretty much anything further than 15 took on a soft blur.

This visit started out like any other exam. The Dr. and I chatted a bit while he tested my vision on the big machine in the dark room (I hate getting my eyes checked.) Then, in the middle of the testing, I asked the Dr. why he thought my vision had gotten so badly so quickly. He said sometimes it just happens, but there wasn't any sign of disease or anything that should cause concern. Then Dr. said, "I really don't know. God only knows."

Normally I would have let it go without saying anything. But, lately I've been praying for more opportunities to share my testimony with those around me. So, in our half-darkened room, I simply smiled and said, "Yes, He does."

I guess he wasn't expecting that response, because he did a double take. Then, with a hint of skepticism, he asked, "How do you know God is a He, and not a she or a something?"

Now I was the one taken by surprise. I thought for just a moment before I responded.

Me: "Because He is my Father in Heaven and I am His child." (I felt so bold, like the Apostle Paul!)

Dr.:"But, God is many other things to many people."

Me: "Yes, but truth is truth, regardless of opinion. There are millions of opinions, but one truth. It is not our job to create our version of God based on our personal hopes and beliefs. We must find the real Him and base our hopes and belief on the truth."

Dr. had a scientific mind, and therefor wanted proof of His existence.

Me: "Man can prove anything he sets his mind to. Man has proven that eggs are bad for you. Then he proved they were good for you. I'm not sure where man's view on eggs are right now, but I am sure it'll change again. That is why we shouldn't rely on man for that answer. Things of a spiritual matter can only be taught and understood through spiritual means. That is where faith comes in. It is not a matter of proof. It is a matter of prayer and faith."

Dr. didn't seem too convinced. With little response he continued testing my vision. For the remainder of the exam we had fun small talk about many other topics, but nothing spiritual. I thought my boldness had fallen on deaf ears and blind eyes.

At the end of my appointment, he shook my hand. I thanked him for the exam and the new contacts.

Me: "Thanks for helping me. It's great to finally see again."

It was then that he smiled and said, "You are an interesting person. You've given me some things to really think about now."

I left feeling great. As I drove home I was once again grateful for the gift of sight. Because of my visit with Dr. I was able to see things I couldn't before. The street signs were clear and the clouds and trees once again had definition. How beautiful and clear everything was to me.

Then I smiled at the notion that, perhaps because of his visit with me,the good Dr. might be able to see things he could not before. Perhaps, as he is thinking about God and seeking Him, he might begin to see things he couldn't before. As he begins to look at life through an eternal lens, his potential will become clear, his purpose might have more definition, his trials might have more meaning, and his joy might be more full.

It brings the words to the song "Amazing Grace" to mind: "...was blind, but now I see."

Side thought - Wouldn't it be great if we could patent a contact that would allow us to see the eternal perspective? I'd call them Forever Focus contacts. When we wore them, we'd see our children as God does (even when their rooms are a mess and they aren't doing their homework.) We'd look at our trials differently. We would even look at ourselves differently. Ah, if it were only that easy!

More Than a Just a Name

2011-05-17T13:17:00.000-07:00

I love nicknames. Growing up I didn't like my name - Michelle. It seemed boring. So, whenever I got a nickname (which wasn't very often) I relished it. My childhood friend, Shelby, called me Ish. To my red-headed twin cousins, I was Mishka. My brothers called me Missy or Siss. My mom had a lot of nicknames for me. When I was little she used to call my Shelly-little-butt.... until I started calling her mommy-big-butt. She changed my nick-name to Shelly-Belly after that. My favorite nickname of all is one that my mother uses now. She calls me Love.

The nicknames are fun and creative. But the real reason I loved nicknames was that I knew it was more than just a name, it was a term of endearment. It was a way to share how someone felt about me without having to say it.It is an indicator of the level of a relationship, where there is love, affinity and concern for the person. Whenever I was called by a nickname, I felt loved (still do.)

I wonder if that is why Jesus has so many names? Jesus, Bread of Life, Cornerstone, God, Jehovah, Rock, Lamb of God, Exemplar, Creator, Good Shepherd, Light of the World and Savior just to name a few. Do you suppose it is because He means so many things to so many people?

To the Savior, his names are more than names. They have meaning. And, when we use them, it should be a token of our acceptance of Him, our love for Him, and our understanding of His role in our lives.

In Luke, 5:46, the Jesus teaches the importance of that relationship when he asks the question, "And why call ye me, Lord, and do not the things which I say?"

When we call Jesus our Exemplar, our Shepherd, and our Savior, we should acknowledge our role as one needing to be guided, to be shepherded and needing to be saved. Our actions should plainly manifest our feelings for Him.

If we really do call him "Lord" then should not follow Him and do the things that He says? Should we not believe that He is?

When Jesus was being question by Pilot, He again showed that a name is more just a name. Pilate called to Jesus and said unto him, "Art thou the King of the Jews?" Jesus could have answered yes. But, rather, he answered him, "Sayest thou this of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me?" In other words, 'Do you believe that I am the King of the Jews, and not just called so?'

As we call upon His name, let us remember that it is more that just a name- it is our testimony of who He is. He is our Judge, the Light of the World, the Firstborn, our Advocate, the Christ, and the Messiah.

Whenever I write to my dad, whether in email or a letter, I never sign the name 'Michelle.' I always sign "Your Daughter." I asked him once if he wondered why I did that or even noticed it before. I told him that for me it was another way of acknowledging my love for him as my father. It was more than just a title or a name at the end of the letter, it represented my pride, love and gratitude for being his daughter.

As we take His name upon ourselves we take on other names as well - Disciple, Follower, Pupil, Saved. Let our actions give meaning to the names we now have. Our works should reflect our love and devotion to Him. Let us show Him that we, too, know that there is more than just a name.

My Emancipation Proclamation

2011-05-06T20:29:00.000-07:00

This is, by far, my most personal and self-revealing post. Get comfortable- this is a long one.

I am apprehensive as I write. There is a part of me that feels that I am the only one that struggles with this. I must be, because everyone else looks so lovely, so happy, so sure of themselves. And yet, I know that there are others. I have talked with them. They have told me they feel the same way. But, in spite of shared secrets and fears, there still is a voice that tells me it is only me.

I am talking about feeling insecure. I want so badly to say that I am completely happy with who I am all the time, but it is a struggle. Especially lately.

There is someone that I compare myself to. Most of the time it is a subconscious haunting. It crops up when I walk by a full-length mirror, or stand next to someone that reminds me of her. I begin to look at myself, not for who I am, but for how much I am not like her. I am not as thin as her, or as confident as her, or as eloquent as her. I am not as good of a mother as her, nor am I as smart or beautiful as her. I cannot cook as well as she can, and her house is always clean. There are times when I don't feel I am good enough- because I think I am not as good as her.

She is you. It is of no fault of your own. You just have so many qualities that I wish I possess. It becomes a problem with I begin to think I am not as good in whole, because I am not like you. (You should be flattered!)

I give myself kudos for admitting that. It takes courage to admit that I compare myself to you and other women. I like courage. It's cool. I don't like insecurities. And yet, I have them. I typically feel very grounded and happy, but lately the doubts and insecurities are cropping up more frequently. Not cool.

I have though a lot about the genesis of these feelings, trying to figure them all out. Here's what I've come up with.

1. I've been a little emotional lately. I am a woman. Women are emotional creatures with high self-expectations and a desperate (albeit sometimes hidden) need to be needed, desired, and loved. When we (I) feel unattractive outside and/or inside, we (I) doubt that we (I) are worthy to be loved, desired, and needed. Granted, this is a blanket statement that may not apply to every single woman- but for the other 99% of us (me), I think it applies.

2. Lately I have lost view of the correct definition of beauty. We are seeds of Deity- daughters of God- and because so, we have an innate drive to progress, to improve, to get better. That is a good thing. This good thing, though, becomes distorted when we look someone beyond God in Heaven as the yardstick for our progress, our success and our beauty. The media is a terrible God to worship and follow. It tells us that if we are not a size 2 we are fat. If we do not have perfect skin, we are ugly. It tell us that if we do not dress fashionable (again- fashion according to the Media God) than we are frumpy and out of style. It tells us constantly that we are not good enough,.

The Media God tells us our boobs are too small, our thighs are too big, our hair is the wrong color and our face is too saggy- and we listen. The message creeps into our minds and breeds self doubt and unhappiness. We look at other followers of the Media God and compare ourselves to them, even try to keep up with them. So we get boob-jobs, color our hair, take diet pills, get botox, have fake tans and fake nails. We deny the Media God's influence. We say it's not about comparing, that we 'just want to feel good about ourselves.' But, that is not completely true.

So, I look at the celebrities in the magazine, then to myself - not the same. I look at woman around me, friends, then to myself- not the same. I see so many beautiful and talented people, and I see me and all my weakness, and I feel inferior. I don't feel worthy. I don't feel beautiful. I don't feel whole.

That begs the question: Who is the one deciding what is beautiful anyway!?!?

This is not a new dilemma for us women (and men.) In the Middle Ages, women would concoct toxic treatments to remove all facial hair- eyebrows, lashes and even hairlines- all for the sake of their definition of beauty. In 100 B.C. Greco-Romans women would bleach their hair using carbonized beechwood and goat fat. Women of the Han Dynasty in China would ingest a powder three times a day whiten their complexion. In 2500 B.C. Egyptians applied a mixture of kohl and animal fat around their eyes as eye-liner. In 300 A.D. Japanese Women would lacquer their teeth black with iron filings. In Elizabethan times, women would painstakingly pluck their hairline back to make their foreheads appear larger.

Culture dictates what is beautiful and we conform. It has, and always will. It is how the world works. But, we know that we are not of the world. We have a divine lineage. We lived before, and we will live after this world. In fact, our lives on earth are but a minuscule chapter in the eternal scheme of things. But, we allow ourselves to become immersed in it, as it dictates who we should be, who we should follow and what we need to be happy. We all get caught up in it. It is inescapable.

So, the golden question is: How do we find the balance between feeling beautiful and secure in who we are - not comparing ourselves to others (or what we looked like in high school), all while staying beautiful according to God?

The answer.......... I don't know. I don't know the formula for amazing self-esteem, impervious to outside influences and inside perception. Otherwise, I wouldn't be feeling this way! But, what I do know is that I am done feeling this way.

So today I decided to make a stand. This is my personal Emancipation Proclamation (EP). Join in if you'd like:

I, (insert your name here), hereby free myself from unrealistic expectations and guilt.

I decree that I will love my muffin-top, embrace my stretch marks, laugh-lines, droopy boobs and frizzy hair.

I free myself from the oppression of comparison.

On this day, I declare myself free from pressure to be "perfect."

Today, I give myself the right to see me as He does - and agree.

I will hereforthwith recognize and find joy in my God-given talents and strengths without apology or dismissiveness.

I do not stand with the world and judge myself.

Today, I choose to stand with God and tell the world (Media Gods) to take a hike.

Today, I love myself.

Today I am free.

Sounds totally cheesy. I know. But, I feel so much better now.

How do you feel as you read this? Do you agree? Do you need an Emancipation Proclamation of your own? If so- go for it. If not, well, congratulations! Maybe you can tell us all your secret!

PS- If you are judging me right now, it's OK. According my EP, I don't care. :) How cool is that?

A Mother's Prayer

2011-05-03T14:37:00.000-07:00

I'd like to think that I'm a good mom- a really good mom. I'm trying to be a great mom. But, unfortunately for my kids, I'm not there yet. But I'm trying.

Raising children is the hardest thing I've ever done. Not because the kids are so difficult, but because I am so imperfect.

Fortunately, God hears the prayers of millions of mothers each day praying for strength, guidance, patience and love. I know I have prayed thousands of times for those very things. I've asked Him to fix what I can't rix, heal what I can't heal, undo any negative I have done, and do the positive I can't do. I've asked Him to help me see them through His eyes, and love them the way He does. I have prayed for these and many other things through tears, half asleep, on my sick bed and even in church. Many-a Mother's Prayer have I offered, and He has heard every one. And answered them.

But of all the motherhood prayers I send to Him, there is one that comes from the furthest depths of my soul. It is uttered with a glimmer of hope, a touch of heartache and all the faith I can muster.

It is simply: Dear God, despite my best intentions, please don't let me ruin my children.

The Pursuit of Happiness

2011-04-28T10:29:00.000-07:00

Take a moment and ask yourself a few questions:

Am I happy?

What would it take to make me happy (happier)?

The pursuit of happiness is perhaps the most traveled and least understood path. We all want to be happy. But, what defines happy? Some confuse happiness with ease of life. When times are good and troubles are few, people are happy. Others define happiness as the time when everything is "going their way," when life meets their expectations. When they have what they want, they are happy.

But, really, what is happy?

As far as I can tell, there are three types of happy.

The first is an adjective to describe a state of mood. We feel happy (optimistically satisfied) when we receive a gift, win an award or buy the new couch we've been eying for months. We feel happy when our children achieve something significant, or when our spouse actually remembers our anniversary. We tend to use the term, " That makes me happy." In that light, anyone can be happy for a time. There are things and situations all around us that can make us happy.

The driving source of this state of happiness is external. As such, we are, in essence, being acted upon. We cannot, therefore, claim control over our happiness. If we rely solely on these outside sources for our happiness, we will find that our moods change as often as we change the channel, and we will be searching from one thing to another to make us happy. Victor Frankl, a psychiatrist and inspirational Holocaust survivor, noted that "it is the very pursuit of happiness that thwarts happiness."

The second kind of happy is a state of mind. This is not just how we feel, but what we think. This type of happiness does not come from an external source. Rather, it comes from inside of us. It is created by our thoughts which, in turn, from our perspective. We have the control. To this, Dr. Frankl said, "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing; the last of the human freedoms- to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."

This state of mind allowed Dr. Frankl to not only endure horrid conditions in a number of concentration camps, but to find deeper meaning and clarity during his suffering. He found that he could choose to be happy, even in the worst of conditions. He realized that external forces could have influence, but he had the ultimate control of his happiness.

It is a freeing notion- that no one or no thing "makes" you happy. You make you happy. In this state of happiness, it is possible to be happy, optimistic, content and and hopeful, even when the external sources of happiness are absent.

The third kind of happy is a state of being. It is not only what we feel, or what we think, but who we are.

George Santayana, a Spanish philosopher, poet and novelist, once said, "Knowledge of what is possible is the beginning of happiness." When we begin to tap into our divine heritage, to truly understand where we came from and where we can go, being happy will become part of our character.

Democritus, the Ancient Greek philosopher, said, "Happiness resides not in possessions and not in gold, the feeling of happiness dwells in the soul."

This third type, or stage, of happy comes from nothing we can see or touch on earth. It is not externally influenced, or internally created. It is eternally given. It comes from the love of Heavenly Father and His Son. But, it is up to us to tap into it, to develop it.

This type of happiness transcends the others. It does not guarantee that we will always get what we want, or always be in a good mood, or that life will always be easy. We cannot see the reasons for all things. But we have been told they are for our good. As we seek His will in our lives, and as our testimonies of who we are grow, we can be happy, even in the greatest of trials. Perhaps this is why Paul, the great Apostle said, "...we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope; and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts"

Aldous Huxley, and English writer said, "Happiness is not achieved by the conscience pursuit of happiness; it is generally the by-product of other activities."

Jesus Christ has given us the means to be happy: commandments and counsel, his gospel and life-saving ordinances. As we follow His teachings, and love and serve our neighbors as ourselves, we not only feel happy, but we become a happy people. In John 13:17 the Savior says, "If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them."

So, ask yourself these questions again:

Am I happy?

What would it take to make me happy (happier)?

Heavenly Father wants us to be happy. Not just for a moment, a minute or a mood. But do be genuinely happy. I wonder if he ever gets frustrated with us as He watches us aimlessly search and wallow. It makes me think of a quote from a movie I saw when I was young. In the bottom-line words spoken to Elizabeth by her imaginary friend, Drop Dead Fred. She was telling him how she wanted to be happy, but just wasn't. He tries to help, the in frustration yells "So, why don't you get happy!" (As he her forehead with a shovel.)

Who Do You Want to Be?

2011-04-20T11:51:00.000-07:00

The second greatest gift that God has given is us, right behind personal agency, is the opportunity to improve and progress. In all aspects of our life we are constantly changing, even though at times we feel we are in a rut. The changes can be life-altering to so minute that they are nearly imperceptible. But, we change every day.

Our faith is either stronger or weaker than it was yesterday. Our level of happiness and satisfaction is either stronger or weaker than it was yesterday. And so on.

I consider this, along with agency, the greatest of gifts because it puts the power in our hands to control who we are and will become, where we go and eventually end up, and how happy we are along the way.

When we think of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, our thoughts might focus on repentance and forgiveness. But, when we apply the Atonement in our lives, there is more than forgiveness. There is the power to change for the better. Our lives are upgraded from a single participant affair to a symbiotic existence with Deity. As we humbly acknowledge our nothingness, we can begin to tap into our greatness.

This empowering truth touches not only aspects of our lives that we might categorize as spiritual, but every aspect of our life. Anything that we desire that is righteous that is for our benefit, with hard work, He will help us achieve and attain.

I have never been athletic. I took dance class in high school. I got an A simply for the amount of entertainment I provided for my teacher. Apparently, she like to watch students fall a lot. As I was older, I struggles with some medical issues that made day-to-day living difficult, let alone a sporty/active lifestyle.

When I started really focusing on my health, I stuck to the gym and a outside run a few times. But, I know I wasn't the "outdoorsy" type. I don't like camping because I know a bear will try to eat me. I wasn't a hiker or a swimmer, or really anything like that. I don't even like granola bars. That just isn't me.

So, what does this have to do with the Atonement, agency and change? Everything.

I made a choice last week. I thought about was is and isn't "me." I had mentally labeled myself and one who "doesn't do dirt." I thought I was just acknowledging who I am. But, I realized that it wasn't just a harmless observation of my personality type, it was a declaration and, in a way, a damnation. I told myself that I was not an outdoorsy person, so I never pursued it. Whenever you say "I don't do..." you never will.

So, in that light, last week I decided that I wanted to be "outdoorsy." I started running outside for exercise, rather than the treadmill. I started cycling as well. I have enjoyed being outside. The fresh air smells and feels good. I feel good (though, after I am done, I don't always smell good.)

Today I went for a bike ride along a trail near my home. This was part of my view.

I had to stop and take a picture. I had seen this river many times, but it was different this time. I felt something deeper when I saw it. Call me corny, but I think a little part of me changed. Like the Velveteen Rabbit, I started becoming a "real" outdoorsy person.

A little while later I came across this on the trail:

I really doesn't have to do with my story, I just thought he was adorable! And, really, how many places in the world do you find calves along a bike path?

Anyway- the point is, that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, we have agency to choose the paths we take and the people we want to be. We have the power to direct our lives and to progress and grow. We are only damned by sin, not personality type, not geographic factors, not even social factors.

Think of who you are right now. Is it who you want to be? Have you labeled yourself a certain way? Are there things you would like to try, different habits or strengths you would like to develop? You can. If they are righteous and good desires, you can become who you want to be.

If you don't "do" crafts, decide you want to become a crafty person. Find someone who is good at it and learn. If you aren't "outdoorsy", decide you want to become so and do it. You can become good at math, more patient, a good speaker, less afraid, a better singer, a stronger athlete- whatever. The first step is recognizing that you have the power let the labels go, and choose for yourself who and what you will become.

Now, there is no guarantee if you want to be rich you will be a millionaire, or if you want to be a singer that you could win American Idol, but you will never know until you make that choice and try.

Everyday we change for the better, worse or different. Take control. Who will you be today? Who do you want to be tomorrow?

If it were any other parent....

2011-04-17T21:20:00.000-07:00

Kids are so cool. Right now my responsibility, or my calling, in church is to teach the 5 and 6 years olds. I have 7 kids in my class. They are a riot! At the beginning of each class we have announcements. Each child gets to take a moment and share something that has happened to them during the week. Inevitably, someone announces that they have just been, or are about to go to Disneyland- even though it is so not the case. I also seem to get a report on weekly injuries and bodily functions as well.

My favorite kind of announcements is when the children report on their parents. One little curly-haired boy announced today that "when we wuh dribing down da stweet, we sah some guys widing motocycles. They wuh doing twicks, so my dad cawed the poweece." (Translation: "...when we were driving down the street, we saw some guys riding motorcycles. They were doing tricks, so my dad called the police.)

I remember when my kids were old enough to start school. I was a good mom, but I for some reason I was nervous about the stories they would tell. Children don't have have good discretion, and will tell you if you are fat, your breath stinks, you are mean, or your cooking is bad.And sometimes they just make stuff up. I would find out soon enough that my worries were not in vain.

When my daughter, Paige, was in first grade, her class held a "Mother's Day Tea." Each child invited his or her mother to their classroom for juice and cookies. The children each wrote poems about their mothers and some volunteered to read them in front of the class.

There were poems of flowers and hugs, puppies and laughter. Then Paige got up to read hers. She looked like a little angel.

She smiled a sweet smile, then began to read her poem:

Mom

Kind Mom.

Loving kind Mom.

Cool kind loving,

Sweet, cool, kind, loving Mom.

I love Mom.

By Paige.

So sweet! I sat there with a proud smile. Kids don't lie. See, I am a good mom! I shares smiles of joy and relief with the other mothers of the poetry readers in the room. Paige came and sat down on my lap. Then she smiled again and asked if I wanted to read the other poems she had written in her book. I was so pleased with the first one, that I could hardly wait so see what other brilliant prose she had penned about me.

Here was the second poem she wrote:

Mom

Is as sweet as terror.

Is as clever like a fox.

Is as strong as an ox.

Is as pretty as a horse.

Mom

Um- what was that? I wasn't too excited about that one. But, I there was no way I could have prepared for her last masterpiece:

My Mom

My mom spanks me a lot.

My mom is mad a lot of times.

My mom is torture.

My mom.

I was horrified! I looked up at Paige we was grinning from ear to ear. What could she be thinking? I mean, I may have spanked Paige a time or two, but nothing that could warrant this! I knew I was a little irritable at times, but I didn't think I had an anger issue! Face flushed, I looked around the room at the other mothers. They were still smiling at their sweet, innocent little angels who had written so many wonderful things about them. I looked back at the demon-child on my lap. Traitor. I looked up to see her teacher, Mrs. Ross making her way over to me. Her hand was over her mouth.

Me: (stammering) I have no idea where this came from!

Mrs. Ross: (laughing) If it were any other parent, I would have called the police. But, I know you. And I know that isn't you.

Me: (to Paige) What on earth were you thinking?

Paige: (still smiling sweetly) I thought it would be funny.

Mrs. Ross: (still laughing) She wanted to read all three in class, but I thought that wouldn't be the best idea.

Me: (to Mrs. Ross) Thank you for that! (turning to Paige) Well......?

Paige: (hugging me) I love you, Mom. You're not totally torture.

I admit, I can see the humor in it how- years later. I am grateful that Mrs. Ross didn't let Paige read the other two poems in class. I might have died.

I was also grateful that Mrs. Ross had the ability to look beyond slanderous (albeit humorous, well-written and completely false) statements. She knew the weren't a definition of me, because she knew the kind of person I was.

I'd like to think that is kind of how God sees me. When I make mistakes I'd like to think He says, "...it looks like you really screwed up. But I know you. And I know that isn't you." He knows that my mistakes don't define me; they are an opportunity to change. He knows that my shortcomings aren't permanent; they are opportunities to grow.

No matter how badly I feel, He can see beyond my self-doubts and insecurities and fears. It doesn't matter if others don't understand me, or even like me. They don't know me. He sees all of me. He knows who I am. And He loves me. I love that! In my darkest moments, when I feel pity or despair, greed or selfishness, fear or pain, God can look beyond all that to see me, and he thinks I'm alright.

As for Paige, she has grown up and now has the filter of political correctness that keep us grown ups safe. Now I only have Grace worry about. She is in first grade this year and her "Mother's Day Tea" is coming up. I am nervous. She posses a lack discretion far worse than my older children, and a crazy imagination. Who knows what will end up in her poem.

Regardless of what Grace writes, I can be pretty sure there won't be any police involvement. I made sure that Grace's teacher knows me, too.

Bible Roulette

2011-04-16T12:19:00.000-07:00

I love my scriptures. I have learned so much studying them. I have study aids and books that I use to help me understand the more abstract and difficult passages (I am about to start studying Isaiah, oh my!)

I wish I could say that my scripture study was consistent. There are times when I get lost in the study, and an hour will pass by before I know it. Other times it is difficult for me to get into the spirit of things and I only read a verse or two.

What I love most about the scriptures is that I know that they are one of the ways that I can hear what God has to tell me. I've heard it said, "If you want to talk to God, pray. If you want to hear him, read the scriptures."

Sometimes I don't want to study the facts, the history and the stories. Sometimes, when I am feeling down, lonely, or just need a boost, I don't want a history lesson- I just want to hear Him.

When I feel like that, like I did this morning, I do something that my mother taught me when I was young. She called it "Bible Roulette." I know, the name sounds almost sacrilegious, but bear with me. It is quite simply, really. I say a sincere prayer, then, with closed eyes, I run my fingers over the edge of the pages until I feel impressed to stop. I let my book fall open and read the first verse that catches my eye.

This morning I did that three times. Here are the verses I came to in order:

Amos 5:4 "...seek me and ye shall live."
Alma 30:44 "...The scriptures are laid before the, yea, and all things denote there is a God."
Deuteronomy 20:4 "For the Lord your God is he that goeth with you, to fight for you, against your enemies, to save you."

Three random verses that, when put together, say something great: Seek me and you'll make it. Look for me in the scriptures. I am the Lord, your God, and I am with you. I will fight for you. I will save you.

I tried this once while visiting with a good friend of mine. She was making choices that were bringing her sadness. She said she wasn't ready to stop her habits and come back to church. I asked if we could read once scripture before I left. I ran my thumb across the edge of the pages until she said stop. I opened to this verse, "I beseech of you that you do not procrastinate the day of your repentance until the end." She came back to church.

A few years ago, a matter was weighing heavily on my heart. I knelt in prayer by my bed and wept. After what seem hours, I still had not received an answer to my plea. At that point, my prayers had turned into a simple, Are you even there? Through my tears I grabbed my Bible and let it fall open. I looked down, and through my tears I read, "And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not." At that moment, I no longer felt alone. The Spirit testified to me that God was there, and that my Savior also was aware of me. My tears of sorrow turned to tears of joy and relief.

Some might say that it is just coincidence. They might think that since the scriptures are full of wonderful verses, that the ones I land on are mere happenstance. Maybe. But, I choose to believe otherwise. I believe that God talks to us in ways that we can hear- when we are willing to listen. Even through Bible roulette.

Try it, and see if you believe, too.

The Old Country Road

2011-04-14T13:15:00.000-07:00

In life, we may think we know what we are looking at, and where we are going, but do we really?

There is a lovely old country road, not far from my home. It is one of my favorite drives. The scenery is beautiful. It twists and turns past pastures, farms, homes and trees.

When I first moved here and was still becoming familiar with the area, I decided to take the road home after running some errands. Even though I was still fairly new to the area, I knew that if I stayed on the road, it would get me back home.

At one point as I was driving down the road, I looked ahead to see it stretch far in front of me. I knew where I was going, even though I couldn't see over the immediate hill.

You can imagine my surprise when I reached the top of the hill and saw this picture.

The road that stretched out into distance was not a part of my path at all! My little country road veered sharply to the left.

Even though the turn was unexpected, I stayed on my country road, which led me home.

I have lived here for 7 years now, and I think about that experience nearly every time I drive this beautiful country road. From my vantage point, I was so sure the road would lead me straight ahead. But when I reached the top of the hill and gained a new perspective, I realized it wasn't my destination at all.

Like this country road, life has it's twists and turns, hills and beautiful scenery. Most times we can be pretty sure that if we are on the right road, we are headed "home." But, the path home doesn't always take us where we think it will go.

When I was younger, I planned on having a big family. I wanted 5 kids. I also wanted to be an actress and a singer. But, what I wanted most of all was to live God's will. I chose the road He created for me. I knew that, for me, being an actress wasn't on that road. But, I was sure having la big family would be. It was a good and righteous goal, right? Well, my road took some very unexpected turns full of heartache and faith. And, though I know have four children, 2 of them did not come to our family in the traditional way. They came from turns and hill that I hadn't ever imagined, let alone planned on. But, oh, how I love them.

You may look at your life and think, "This is not where I thought I would be." You may have unexpected tragedies or trials, heartbreak or misfortune. You may look ahead and see no happy ending. Take heart, though the experiences are real and necessary for your growth, they are not the destination.

You might have great goals and big dreams, and think you know exactly what makes you happy where you are going. But, Heavenly Father knows you better than you know yourself. He knows what will truly bring you the greatest joy. And often times it is not what you had planned. Take heart as well, for if you stay on His path, you can be sure to experience the joy beyond measure.

Make worthy goals and plans. Stay on the path that Heavenly Father has created for you. Trust in Him, that when things don't turn out according to your plans it is for a greater good. Have faith in Him, and He will bless you with moments of perspective and clarity that will make sense of the hills and turns. Follow His will, and you will reach your ultimate destination.

And remember to enjoy the view.

What's in Your Closet?

2011-04-12T20:33:00.000-07:00

My husband is out of town for a few days. I can always count on a handful of things to happen when he leaves without fail.

1. I will clean out at least one closet.

2. I will eat ice cream in the morning (afternoon, or night. Ice cream makes everything better!)

3. I will stay up until 3am watching mindless TV or chick-flicks.

4. I will rearrange at least one room in the house.

This time was no different. I have cleaned my closet out. I have rearranged my bedroom. I have eaten Breyer's Home style Vanilla ice cream with fresh blackberries mixed it it. I have stayed up until 3AM catching up on shows that I've missed lately. And that's just day one! I still have 2 and a half days left!

My closet was a mess. I found things shoved in the back of drawers that were from the Bush Era. There were clothes that haven't fit me for years. There was over a dollar in change collected, hair bands recovered and missing single socks reunited. Hidden and neglected, many items in my closet had not been seen or touched in many moons.

Three hours and many sneezes later, I am proud to say my closet is clean. Clothes are neatly hung and folded, draws are organized and labeled, shoes are paired and orderly, and the floor can now be seen.

As I cleaned I am listening to a conference of my church leaders that is broadcasted twice a year. One person asked, spiritually speaking, "What do you know?" and began to ask a series of questions to those listening. "Do you know God lives?" etc.

It caused me to do a personal inventory of my faith and what I knew. It was a process akin to the cleaning out of my closet this morning. There are certain aspects of my testimony that I think of all the time, but were there parts of what I know that have been tucked away? Were there things that I once knew, that have faded into the background because of doubt and neglect? Are there elements of my testimony that are hidden under a bushel?

I love my clean closet. I feel good. I like knowing what I have. There were many things found that I hadn't used, simply for the fact that I had forgotten they were there. Now that I know what is in my closet and where everything is, I can fully utilized it and it's contents.

It is the same with my testimony. I feel good when I know what I believe in. As I revisit through pondering, scripture and prayer the pieces of my testimony that have been left neglect and malnourished, I feel stronger and closer to Him. There is great power that lies in the minutia of faith. When you know what is in your testimony, you can fully utilize the principles in your life and the lives of others. You open yourself to receive greater blessings and an even stronger testimony.

Take a moment or two and ask yourself what's in your spiritual closet. Take inventory of your testimony, evaluate your faith and enjoy the feeling of knowing what you believe. Then have some ice cream for me :)

The Door is Open

2011-04-11T20:32:00.000-07:00

I have a chocolate lab named Tess. We love her and she is madly devoted to us. She is a sweet dog that has moments of brilliance, but for the most part is not that bright. For example, often times when open the back door to let her outside, she will walk onto the patio, then turn around and come right back into the house - even when I know she needs to "go potty" (yes, we talk to our dog like she is our forever-toddler.)

This morning was no different. She hadn't been out since last night so I knew she needed to go. I opened the back door. She walked onto the porch, then immediately turned around and stared up at me, tail wagging. She would have come back inside but I was still standing at the door.

"Go potty."

Stare.

"Go potty."

Stare.

"Go potty!"

Pitiful stare.

Finally, I just walked away from dumb dog on the porch and the open door, fully expecting her to follow me inside.

But she didn't.

She stood there for a minute and stared through the open door. Then she turned around and ran out the to grass. Soon after she came running back inside and straight to me as if to say, "I did it! Are you proud of me?"

I looked at my dumb dog then back at the open door. Then it hit me.

Tess knew was she needed to do. But it was only when the door was left open - not closed to her- that she went to do it. When she knew there was a way back in the house she felt she could go.

I realized then that Tess wasn't so dumb. In fact, she is a lot like us.

We used to live in this beautiful place with our heavenly family. It was our home. We loved our Heavenly Father, and he loved us. He loved us so much that He created this earth for us so that we could learn and grow. We don't remember that life before. That was purposeful, so that we might be able to develop faith in this life.

So, here we are, in this sometimes very cold, world. Just like Tess, we sometimes find ourselves staring back home and not wanting to budge. It's scary down here. It's hard down here. I am hurting. I feel alone.

Luckily (although it isn't really luck) the door has been left open for us.

Life can be hard and scary. And sometimes we just want to feel safe - feel peace - like we did when we were "home." But take heart. The door is open. There is a way home.

The Savior has opened the door, through His Atonement. And He has shown us the way back home. So let's have courage in tough times, and faith in the night. Let's find joy in our imperfections and strive to be more. Let's love and serve others while loving ourselves. Let's learn of His commandments, and follow Him. Let's be like Paul and "fight the good fight."

The door is open. We can go about our work here with faith and confidence. We will never be left out. We will never be lost. We will be forgotten. There is a way home.

As I type this, Tess is lying on the floor at my feet. Her tail is gently thumping in peaceful contentment. She is home.

No, she isn't so dumb after all.

Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat?

2011-04-10T20:30:00.000-07:00

"Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat?" The question dreaded by men (and best friends) the world over. Especially if asked by a woman with extra layers such as I. We women ask that question with no real interest in the truth - we know we do look fat. We just want to make sure that the people we surround ourselves with are in an equal state of denial as we are. We want to make sure they have our backs, so to speak. We need validation (that awful V-word.) So, we ask them the loaded question and wait for the predictable - albeit expected - answer, "No, of course not." And we feel better - or do we?

I never do for two reasons. First - I know I am not thin. Second - I know they are lying (or stretching the truth, like the dress stretches across my hips) just to be nice. I don't believe them. And that makes me sad, too.

I asked my dad once if he though I was fat. I was about 17 years old. It was spring time, approaching summer. I needed some validation. He looked at me with loving eyes, and after a long pause said, "Well, you don't have what I would call a "bikini body", but you are not fat." At first I was crushed. I went up to my room in disbelief. How could he say that! Even at that young age I was somehow inherently aware of the "fat-question" rule. He completely violated it by being.......honest! I'll admit, I was hurt. But, what I found was the validation of my physical appearance that I desired was replaced by something far more important- honesty. I learned that day that I could ask my dad anything - anything- and he would tell me the truth. Even if it hurt my feelings.

Because I knew this about my dad, I found that I was afraid to ask him certain questions for fear that my insecurities or fears might be valid (was I smart, was a special, etc.) I sometimes wished he wasn't so honest. On the other, sweeter, hand, when my dad said kind things to me and about me (which he did often) I found that I actually believed him. I knew he did not have ulterior motives. I knew he did not lie. So, when he told me I was special, I believed him. When he told me I was beautiful, I believed him. When he told me I was amazing, I believed him. When he told me I would be alright, I believed him. I believed him because he did not lie. Because my dad loved me, and was honest with me, as a young woman (and even now) he gave me the gift of confidence in and a love for myself. I love him and trust him - and will be forever grateful to him for that.

I was reading in the Book of Mormon this morning. I was reading a story of a young missionary who went off to preach the gospel to his enemies. They hated him, and their people were often at war with one another. This young man, Ammon, fasted and prayed for strength, comfort and direction. I read "And it came to pass that the Lord did visit them with his Spirit, and said unto them: Be comforted. And they were comforted." What a sweet answer from a loving God. But- what struck me was this young man, and those who were to accompany him, stood in the face of danger and the unknown received an answer from the Lord and believed him. No doubts, no questions, no second-guessing or giving into the fear of possible destruction. The Lord spoke and they believed. He told told to be comforted, and they were.

He may not give us the answers we want. We may ask, "Does this sin make me look unworthy?" hoping for a polite, "Oh- no! You look just fine!" and rather get the honest (but loving and divine) answer, "Yes. You need to repent and change." The Adversary would have you second guess God. Sometimes logic itself might cause you to question Him. But, remember this: No matter what you ask Heavenly Father, He will tell you the truth. He does not lie. He will never steer you wrong.

When He tells you He loves you, it must be true. When He tells you that you are special - even amazing - believe it. When He tells you things will be hard, and life is tough - but you will be OK, believe Him. When He tells you He has a plan for you, believe Him.

He tells you the truth because He loves you. He tells you the truth because He knows the truth will bring you the greatest joy. He tells you the truth because that is the way back to Him.

I am grateful to Heavenly Father for showing me the truth. I am grateful to my earthly father for telling me telling me the truth. And................I am (truthfully) thankful for my husband who knows precisely when to omit the truth ("No, that dress doesn't makes you look - oh, is that chocolate over there?")

The Safety Net of Mediocrity

2011-04-09T20:28:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I was invited to play on our church basketball team. My immediate response was a resounding, “No thank you.” I have never considered myself an athlete. To be brutally honest, I have the coordination and agility of a large drunken man. This is not a complex, it is truth. I earned an ‘A’ in high school dance class; not because I was graceful and skilled, but because of the level of amusement my sideways efforts brought to my teacher.

I was clumsy and deficient, and I knew it. One of the products of my lack of ability was a lack of confidence. One of the products of my lack of confidence was the lack of effort I put into sport activities. I never gave it my best try. I always did just enough to get a passing grade. I only did just enough not to get laughed at.

So, when my friend Jacqueline asked if I would participate on the basketball team with her, my knee-jerk reaction was No! But, as I thought about it, I realized something. I knew I lacked a natural athletic ability. And because of it, I never gave sports my best effort. That way, when I failed (and I did many times) or looked like an idiot, I could pass the blame to genetics and lack of effort. “It’s not in the genes.” Or, “Well, I should have tried harder.”

Realizing that mediocrity had become a safety net, I decided to join the team and try, really try, to do my best. I went to every practice, and stayed after with Jacqueline for some one-on-one coaching. (She is such a good, patient woman!) I learned plays, practiced shooting, and even learned to block my opponent. I was ready for my first game. I put my fears of looking like an idiot aside, and for the first time in my life, I put 100% into a sport.

My husband and children came to the game. He proudly held the camcorder as I lead our team to victory. Well, the first half of that sentence was true- he did bring the camcorder. But the second half is only what I wish had happened. Truth be told (and I know it is the truth- I saw the tape)- I looked like an old lady on hot coals. I stayed crouched and was jumping up and down the entire game, even when I was completely by myself (which happened a lot that and every other game.) I missed the hoop more times than not. I tripped over my own feet and even ran the wrong way twice. It was a debacle- or so it seemed.

That night as I watched the video tape, I have pangs of old feelings: embarrassment and sadness. But, one feeling was noticeably absent: regret. I did not perform amazingly, but I did something greater. I put away fear, pride and self-awareness and tried my hardest. I truly gave it my all, and it felt great. I don’t remember the score that night, but I remember feeling like I had won.

I wondered how many other things in my life have suffered because I used mediocrity as a safety net: education, relationships, or jobs. How many experiences have I missed, how many lesson did I not learn because I hid behind fear and self-consciousness? How many times could Heavenly Father have used me for something, some greater purpose that I was unwilling to step up to?

I made a choice that night. I would never hide behind mediocrity again. I will give 110% in all that I do. I will seek out (righteous) experiences that I once avoided. I will overcome fear. I will do what I can to do better, to be better.

Since then I have done many things that I had the guts to do. I wrote a book (just sent it off to the publisher last week!), I was in a commercial, I learned to knit, I learned to be “crafty” and much more. In fact, this Sunday I will be singing with three amazing singers at church- just the four of us! I am terrified! But, I am doing it, and I will give it my all.

No one is the best at everything. I’d like to be the Queen of all trades, but I am not. But, what I can control is the effort I put into all the experiences of life. I can make the choice not to be damned by fear. I can learn to recognize my weakness and make them stronger. I can decide not to be mediocre. I may not be magnificent what I may do, but I will be magnificent in how I do it.

Better

2011-04-08T20:26:00.000-07:00

I've sung in my church choir for three years now. I love to sing. I am not that great - I'm probably not even that good- but I love to do it. Our choir director, Laura, is wonderful. She has never told me just how bad I am, even when I ask her directly. She always says the same thing, "You have a beautiful voice." I love her for that. Over the years Laura has given great counsel and direction to the choir, and because of we have followed it, we have all improved. But, I am still far from where I want to be.

A few months ago a nice, young family moved into our ward. Marianne, the young, adorable mom, joined the choir. She sat three seats from me the first practice. I could hear her beautiful voice from my seat. Oh, how I wish I could sing like that!

Last week I sat by beautiful Marianne. As the choir practice began, I found myself feeling a bit envious. Why couldn't Heavenly Father have given me that kind of voice? As we continued to practice, though, I noticed something happening. As I sat next to Marianne, I began to sing better. As I listened to her, my tone was richer, my voice was clearer and my notes were not as sharp. It was a small miracle! I could sing better. It felt wonderful.

We had choir practice again today after church. We sang the same songs that we had been practicing for the past few weeks, the same songs that I sang so well just last week. Except, this week was different: I sounded terrible again! I cleared my throat and tried harder. Still bad. What happened to the miracle from last week? I heard Marianne's voice from three chairs over and I realized something. She was a better singer than me, but when I was next to her, singing by her side, I was better than when I was alone. I was a better singer when I was with her.

On the way home, I thought about that experience, and how it represented an eternal truth. In Joshua chapter 1, we read the account of Joshua, Moses's predecessor. Their prophet and leader is gone, and now, after 40 years of wandering, it is up to Joshua to lead the Israelites in a battle with Canaan to reclaim their Promised Land.

If I were in Joshua's position, I would have been terrified. The Lord must have known that he was feeling a little afraid and alone, so he gave him a beautiful pep-talk. "I will be with thee; I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. Be strong and of a good courage." He went on to let Joshua know that, not only would He be there, but that Joshua would be better for it: "...be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed; for the Lord they God is with thee withersoever thou goest." He told him he needn't be afraid- he would be able to rise the occasion because the Lord is by his side. Joshua believed the Lord and went on to fight many battles, braver, stronger and just plain better, than he was when he was alone.

Paul also felt the empowerment that comes from being in the Lords company. "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." Our relationship with- and our spiritual proximity to- Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ can make us better people than who we are alone. I can be teach my children better, I can see my purpose better, I can endure trials better, I can live better, I can love better, I can forgive better, I can be better with them by my side.

What a wonderful principle, this principle of personal magnification: No matter what comes up in choir,I know I can sing better with Marianne at my side.

And no matter what comes up in life, as I exercise my faith and stay close to my Father in Heaven and my Savior, I know I can be better than who I am now- I can become as they intend me to be. I can be me - but better.

Twine

2011-04-07T20:25:00.000-07:00

I am not much of a daredevil. Oh, I talk a big talk. I like to sound all tough, but I am really not. Remember the story of the cliff-jump? Yeah- there's no cape on my back.

A few years ago the youth in our church went on a hike on Mt. Rainier. We had lunch on a small plateau by a cliff. Some of the kids walked to the very edge to look over Of course the boys spit over the ledge and watched it fall hundreds of feet to the bottom. The sun was out, the youth and leaders were laughing and enjoying their food, and I was the one herding the kids from the ledge, nauseous from worry. Even my husband told me I was worrying too much. But I just couldn't shake the fear- what if one lost their footing and fell? What if they didn't have anything to hold on to?

I read in a book a few years ago that has never left me. The author described a plain brown package wrapped with a piece of twine. Do you care about the twine? No, you want what is in the package. Now, say, you are hanging off the edge of cliff above certain death, and the only thing that is keeping you alive is the piece of twine you are holding one to. Do you care about the twine now? Do you hope and pray that it is strong?

We are all "hanging over the cliff" in this life. None of us can make it back to safety- back home- without help, without a Savior.

A testimony isn't merely a state of mind, a personal preference or even a set of beliefs. It is more than that. Our testimony of Jesus Christ and his gospel is the spiritual twine that is keeping us from certain spiritual death.

I asked myself a few questions today. Do I care how strong my spiritual twine is now? Is it strong enough to hold me up?

You could take a moment to ask yourself some questions: How strong is your spiritual twine? How strong is your testimony? Is it strong enough to hold you up? If not, then change it. You have the power to: get on your knees, open your scriptures, lend a hand, and turn to God.

The Elevator and the Panic Attack

2011-04-06T20:19:00.000-07:00

I went on an errand today to pick up some medicine for my mother at the pharmacy. I parked in the parking garage on the second floor and made my way to the third floor entrance. There were the stairs or the elevator. The stairs were obviously the more active and healthy route, making them the logical choice--but I took the elevator instead. For some reason I didn't feel very inspired to run stairs after a Bruschetta Burger and garlic fries at Red Robin restaurant. (Yes, as you can see, I am enjoying my vacation immensely.)

The pharmacy was only one floor above, but you wouldn't have thought the elevator knew it. The doors closed slowly, and the elevator growned as if it were bothered by cutting it's break short to get back to work. It bumped and thumped for a very long thirty seconds before the doors opened and I was delivered safely to the third floor.

During that elevator ride, time slowed down for me. I came in touch with a fear that I had no idea I possessed- I was terrified of the elevator. What if the cables snapped and I crashed to my death? What if the doors jammed and I was stuck for weeks, dying of dehydration and starvation? For a moment I felt completely helpless. I had willingly put myself in this situation, this portal to the third floor pharmacy which had now become a sure ticket to my demise. I don't want to die in an elevator! What was I thinking?

Then I realized, I wasn't thinking. I saw the glowing elevator button, promising an easy ride. The shiny doors opened to a clean and inviting elevator- pretty and safe elevator. It was a no brainer. I also had not given any thought about the condition of the cables holding it up, and pulling it down. I had no idea the last time they were inspected or tested. I could not see them for myself.

As I rode in the tomb of doom I stared at the ceiling, as if my SuperWoman x-ray vision were to kick in any time. No luck. All I could do was ride up those 30 bumpy seconds to the next floor, choose to not freak out, and trust that the cables won't fail me.

It occurred to me then, in the middle of my state of all-so-sudden panic-attack, that this was a parallel of life. Often times we make choices in life that seem so effortlessly logical and appealing: marriage, school, kids, career- life. We see glowing buttons that promise us success, happiness, fulfilment and joy. Shiny doors open to reveal romantic proposals, precious new-born babies, first-day-on-the-job butterflies. Then, the bumps start, and you think, "What in the world did I get myself into?" Marriage is hard work- not the constant love-sick twitterpation you see on TV. That beautiful baby made you gain 60 pounds and is throwing up on you, pooping out food faster than you can get it in him and crying all night. The job you once loved is now coupled with the politics of difficult co-workers and life is just not what you expected when you saw the shiny buttons not too long ago. Sometimes life doesn't seem like you imagined it to be.

When the ride you are on starts to bump and thump, and life is difficult, consider what is holding you up, what you can't see beyond the ceiling of your life, what is keeping you from falling to your demise: Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. We can't see them- but we can trust that they are there. They know where They are taking us.

I've heard it said that seeing isn't believing, but believing is seeing. I couldn't agree more. Faith is making the choice to trust that which you cannot see. I couldn't see the cables, but I had to trust they would not fail me. And they didn't. Neither will your Father in Heaven and your Savior. As we put our faith in Them, They will see that we make it to our destinations safely. And, it's my guess that when we reach the end, we will find that it was worth every bump and thump.

I got off the elevator on the third floor and made my way to the pharmacy to fulfill my errand. As I made my way back to the entrance to the second floor, the same choice was laid before me. Do I take the stairs or the elevator again? I smiled and pushed the glowing button once again. Somehow it seemed easier this time. Perhaps it was because I had my wits about me and I overcame my fear of elevators as quickly as they came. Or, perhaps it was because this second trip in the elevator represented something more to me; a purposeful act of faith, of walking into the dark just beyond sight, of trusting something you can't see or control.

I'd like to think it was as noble as that. But, it was really because I just didn't want to take the stairs. I still preferred the ride in the elevator, bumps, thumps, faith and all.

Imagine That

2011-04-05T20:18:00.000-07:00

I remember playing as a young child. My world was colorful, the possibilities limitless. My imagination transformed daily life into an adventure; I was a princess, my brothers were trolls. I loved to pretend with my friends. My entire third-grade year I was convinced I was a lost daughter of Zeus. My friend Melody and I spent our school recesses running away from green nymphs who were sent to this world to get us, and I spent my evenings looking for the hidden secret door in my house that would lead me home. My best friend Nicalee and I spent summer days pretending to be orphans running away from Ms. Minchin, the evil orphanage director.

My imaginary adventures seemed to share the same theme: I was always a girl who, despite her best intentions, fell into misfortune. And when all hope seemed to be lost, I would realize that I was more than just a girl, I was the daughter of a king, I was the inheritor of a fortune, and I was the Bionic Woman (that was a fun one). Then, armed with the knowledge of who I really was, my “true identity”, I found the strength and will to overcome.

I always longed to be something more than I was, do something more than I did, be someone more than I was. Then I grew up, and I still have that longing; to be something more than I am, do something more that I am doing, and be someone more than I am.

We are wired to grow- not just physically, but in all respects. It is engrained into our souls to progress, to reach for more, to do more, to be more. When we are young, our limited ability to comprehend our eternal nature is compensated (or perhaps manifested) by childhood imaginings of princesses and dragons. As we grow up, the same desire is there- to be more than who we are. But as we mature, imagination is replaced by pragmatic views, and we find ourselves, at times, feeling unsettled and unfulfilled in life.

I think the reason for those feelings of discontent is that we truly are more that we seem to be here; and there is more to life than life than what we can see- but we just don't fully know it, understand it, or believe it. It is as difficult to find a woman who is satisfied with herself as it is to find a parking space at the mall on Black Friday. There are a few out there- but they are a real find. Most of us are quite adept at finding and acknowledging perceived flaws, downplaying our strengths and feeling like we aren't enough.

Well, enough with that rubbish! We are more than scrap bookers, laundry cleaners, career women (and men- for those few intelligent and sensitive men that read my blog); we are more than just imperfect, fallen people bumping into each other in a world full of sadness and pain. We are sons and daughters of Deity, with a Divine lineage and a Divine inheritance.

We are more than the knights we imagined when we are young- we are armed with the shield of faith, and the armor of God, as described by the Apostle Paul. We are more than the magicians that used to amaze us with their card tricks- with the Priesthood Authority we can partake in the miracles of healing. We are more than children playing tag in the front yard; we are valiant disciples dodging the fiery darts of the Adversary.

Imagine that- all the things I longed for as a child are true. I thought I was just a girl. Now I know my true identity- the daughter of God, my Heavenly Father. I am the inheritor of an eternal fortune. I am more that what I appear to me. And armed with that knowledge, I can find the strength and the will to overcome whatever this world has to throw at me.

We are more than just us- we are His. Imagine that.

Playdough

2011-04-04T20:17:00.000-07:00

I love play dough: the smell, the touch...yes, even the taste (when I was five). It allows creativity to flow, from rolling a worm to creating a masterpiece.

I love brand-new play dough, right out of the can. It's perfect, untouched. The color is pure; it's texture soft and pliable. I can make anything I want.

I don't love old play-dough. Its colors get mixed with other colors, turning them all into a strange shade of purple-brown. If left out, the play dough can become crusty and un-moldable. I can't make anything I want anymore.

There seems to be a long-lived love-affair with moldable items: Play dough, clay, Silly-putty. You've heard the saying, "Like putty in my hands." We all seem to share the fulfillment of seeing something (the brand-new play dough) for its possibilities. You've never seen a child open a new can of play dough and exclaim, "Wow! I'm gonna put this away and never touch it!" No, they invariably pull the tube of play dough out and mash it into something spectacular, like a worm or a ball. For the more avid play-doughers, they might create a piggy or pretzel. No matter what is created, or how old the craftsman is, the same drive is there: to turn it into something more.

We all share the same innate drive when it comes to ourselves. We all have the same power, too. We came here as brand-new little people, and through life, we have been molded into who we are today. Some of us like who we are, some of us don't. The beauty of this life is that we are never finished with the molding process. Through every decision we make, through ever action we take, we mold ourselves into a more patient, more humble or kinder person. Or we mold ourselves into more selfish, angrier and more resentful people. We can keep ourselves fresh like new play dough, or as discolored and crusty as old play dough (Trust me; I’ve met some awfully crusty people in my life.)

We are not the same person as we were yesterday. Our choices today have changed us. For some the change is almost imperceptible, for others it is the difference between night and day. The fact is we are who we are because of our choices.

We are the sum of our choices, and what we allow ourselves to become.

The good news is that if we don't like who we are now, we are only one choice away from becoming the kind of person we want to be. That is actually great news! And, through the Savior’s Atonement, with proper repentance, we have the blessed opportunity to "reshape" ourselves, as we would new play dough.

The first thing to do is ask yourself three questions. The first question is, "Who do you want to be?" The next is, "How close I am right now to that person?" The final question is, "What choice can I make right now to get me closer to the person I want to be?"

After the questions have been asked, you only have one simple thing to do: make a choice. Begin to mold yourself into someone spectacular. With the help of Heavenly Father, through the power of the Savior's Atonement, you can be who you want to be, who they intended you to be. We have the power to mold ourselves into a worm, or a masterpiece. It's our choice.

We are the sum of our choices, and what we allow ourselves to become.

A Little Dish Soap and Even Less Patience

2011-04-03T20:15:00.000-07:00

I was given the cutest soap dispenser for my kitchen last year. It's been stored under the sink, until last month; it's recent liberation due to a redecorating bug that bit me. It is a tall, narrow glass bottle that is poured, rather than pumped. You may have seen similar ones used for vinegars or oils. It's adorable!

I was running short on dish soap, so I mixed what I had with water and proudly displayed my new decoration. It worked great. The other day I noticed I was almost out of soap. I refilled my dispenser and went about my day.

That night, as I began washing dishes, I picked up my dispenser and aimed down at my dishes. No soap. I shook it. No soap. Frustration. I hit the sides. No soap. More Frustration. I even did what they do on cartoons: I held it straight above my head and looked up right into the tip. No soap. Even more frustrated, I popped the top off for further inspection. Everything looked clear. Why wasn't my wonderful soap dispenser working!

I sat back down on the counter and stared at it, tapping my foot, as if waiting for an explanation. No explanation, and still no soap! I picked up my soon-to-be-back-in-storage dispenser one last time. I took a calming breath. I held it upside and waited. I waited more. After ten very long seconds, out came a pitiful drop of soap! Glorious Day!

It took me a few minutes to realize that the new soap I had put into the dispenser that morning was not watered down. It was thicker, therefore it was more difficult for it to squeeze through the whole in the top. I put the soap down and had to laugh at myself. I got worked up over something so trivial; over something I had, unwittingly, brought upon myself. I realized that the soap dispenser still worked, but the soap was different. Because it took longer to emerge, I had to be patient. No more instant soap-gratification. I now had to wait a whole 5-10 seconds before I got my soap!

You wouldn't think that 5-10 seconds is a long time to wait. It really isn't. It's the principle it represents. My frustration came because I wasn't getting instant gratification: soap now. My frustration came because I didn't understand why I wasn't getting it now. My frustration came because I had to wait for it.

The next morning I was washing the breakfast dishes. I grabbed the dish soap. Again, no soap. Frustration came as I momentarily forgotten the events of the day before. But, as memory of the soap fiasco came back to mind, so did an understanding of a basic, yet critical lesson in life. And as I held the dispenser in the air over my cereal bowl, I found that I had 5-10 seconds to muse over it: the virtue of patience.

Why is it so difficult to wait? Why doesn't patience come as easily as anger and frustration? Why can't I have patience now? How often do I experience frustration because I am not getting what I want now: a clean house, obedient children, time to study the scriptures, time to exercise, time to just be me? How often do I experience frustration because I don't understand why I can't have those things now? How often do I want to shake things, slap their sides and take them apart just to get what I want, when I want it? Why are we in such a hurry to get what we want?

We live in a world of instant gratification. Just a click of a button and the world is at your fingertips: You can fast-forward through commercials, take a plane instead of drive, call on a cell phone whenever you want, drive-thru a restaurant for an instant meal. We are a society that breeds impatience and greed.

Jesus taught that, "In your patience possess ye your souls." (Luke 21:19)

When we are patient, we allow ourselves to clearly see what is around us; We appreciate what we have now, not what we are going to have. When we are patient, we allow Heavenly Father to bless us. When we slow down and are patient, we become the tamer of our desires, the master of our emotions and the possessor of our souls. We become free to see and to be.

Before I did my dishes this morning, I thought about adding water to my soap to get back the instant-soap-gratification that I so love. But, something stopped me. I think I'm gonna keep that 5-10 seconds of waiting for my soap. Mabye if i am lucky, each time I will be 5-10 seconds closer to being a truly patient person.

Ice Cream and Choices

2011-04-02T20:15:00.000-07:00

My first job as a teenager was at Baskin Robbins (surprised?) I loved it. Back then the employees got to eat as much free ice cream as they wanted, or at least, that is what my 19 year-old supervisor told me. So, of course, I ate. I loved (still do) ice cream, but I hated the job. Something about having to be there at a certain time and staying the whole shift really bothered me. I also could have done without the smell of sour milk I reeked of after each shift. How could something as wonderful as ice cream smell so bad at the end of the day?

Baskin Robbins was known for its 31 flavors of ice cream. Sometimes people came into the store and knew just what they wanted. Others walked slowly back and forth, staring at each flavor, tasting each in their minds before they made a choice. Some would ask for recommendations. And still others simply pass while their companions partook. Each patron handled the decision of what to eat differently.

There was a little-known option that our store offered (again, via my 19-year old supervisor.) For the price of a single scoop of ice cream, you could have a taste of all 31 flavors. I'd only seen it once. It was quite a sight! A woman couldn't make up her mind, so she opted to try all of the flavors to help narrow it down. She experienced a rainbow of taste, loving the chocolate and hating the sherbet. By the end of the 31-flavor parade, it was time for her to decide. But the poor woman was so full from all the tastes that she left without having a full scoop of the flavor she truly wanted. She left full, yet unsatisfied. It made me sad (so, of course I had some ice cream to make me feel better! Gold Medal Ribbon is my favorite.)

I think of this today, because I have a big decision to make. I have many options before me, but, in the end, I must choose one. How can I choose? Which will it be?

I have tried the method of mentally walking down each path, imagining the outcome in my mind. They all seem to be not all-that-bad. Sometimes in life our choices aren't between right and wrong, they are between right and right.

I can't follow the example of those who simply passed on making a decision. It seems the easy way out. Besides, I won't be able to partake in any of the outcomes. I thought about not really committing to one decision, but to try them all, just for a bit.

Sometimes the choices between one good thing and another are the hardest ones to make. When the patrons at my store couldn't decide, I would talk with them about the kinds of things they like and didn't like, and made my own recommendation. I was confident in my ability to guide them because I, of course, had tasted every flavor in the store......more than once. We have our own source to turn to when a decision must be made. It is our Father in Heaven. He already knows all the choices before us. He Himself has placed many of them before us to help us.

In the end, I realize that I will never get to experience the fullness of anything. So, I am left with one option. Because I am not sure myself, I need to ask for a recommendation. I'm going to turn to God and ask Him what He recommends. I have the faith that He wants me to be happy. I have the knowledge that He loves me. I have the hope that He will answer me. I have the peace that I can even ask Him. I have the joy that I am not alone.

Growth comes not from having choices, but making the right choices.

As I sit here today, I am still not sure which path I will take- which flavor I will choose. But, what I do know is that as I do the best I can and listen to my Father in Heaven, I will be led to the right choice that is the most right for me.

A Bear is Going to Eat Me

2011-04-01T20:13:00.000-07:00

The walls of the tent were engulfed by the heavy darkness of the forest night. As I peeked out from my sleeping bag, I moved nothing but my eyes. I tried to see something, anything. What little air I shallowly breathed was cold and wet; an assault to my senses. Everything was dark; dark and still.

Though I saw nothing and heard nothing, I knew it was out there, waiting. Snap! The break of a twig confirmed my greatest fear. It was here. I lay frozen on my back, preparing for what was to happen next. My heart pounded so loudly that I was sure the sound of it led It here. I did not move, for I knew if I did, it would be the end of me. So, I laid there, still, for what seemed like hours, as I listened to every sound that came from outside my tent. I was preparing for every gruesome scenario in my mind. Mercifully, fatigue set in. I woke up the next morning to tent full of light, and a grateful heart that I could live yet another day.

This was one of the highlights from a family camping trip a few years ago. Dramatic, yes. You see, I was convinced that while camping with my family, I would be eaten by a bear. Bears live in the woods. We camp in the woods. I've seen it happen on TV (you can believe everything you see on TV, right?) It was inevitable. To me it was a perfectly logical and acceptable fear.

Unfortunately, this same fear that hi-jacked my nights also affected my experience during the day. It prevented me from taking hikes with my family on that rarely-used trail (where I knew the bear would be waiting), among many other things. I loved to camp, but the fear of the bear permeated my experience. I could not fully enjoy what, and who, was around me. I let this fear dictate my level of comfort, my level of activity and my level of commitment (we didn't go camping at all last year). In short, I allowed fear to control me.

I confess this fear to you because it illustrates an essential, yet often ignored eternal principle. Fear is bad.

When a child learns to crawl, he is blessed with the fear of falling. This helps him to not crawl off the changing table. But when that child gets older he learns to fear other things; spiders, strangers, pain. And when that child grows into adulthood, he might have developed new fears; commitment, rejection, being different, self-mastery.

Some would argue that fear keeps us safe (as mine has from the bear all these years). But, I will tell you that is not the case. Although fear does keep us from making certain choices that could lead to undesirable results, more importantly, it also robs us of opportunity, peace and a fullness of joy in this life.

Heavenly Father did not intend fear to be our rudder. For me I ask how many camping trips were ruined due to fear. For you, it might be a different question. How many new friendships were not nurtured due to fear of rejection? How many relationships have failed due to fear of commitment. How many experiences were passed by for fear of failure? How many apologies were not given for fear of losing pride? How many prayers were not said, due to the fear they would not be answered?

In 2 Timothy 1:7 Paul taught: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love; and of a sound mind."

Though we should not let fear controls us, we should not throw all caution (a clear understanding of risk) to the wind. That is what Paul meant by a "power" and "a sound mind." God has given us intelligence and agency. These two things allow us to make intelligent choices for ourselves.

Fortunately for us, we are not solely dependant on our own intellect. We can receive the help of Deity, as promised by Jesus Christ. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

We all fear something. But, with the help of Heavenly Father and our Savior, we can overcome our fears. The doors of opportunity, happiness and peace will open up to us. Then we can live life as it is meant to be lived; with power, with love, with peace, and a full measure of joy.

I just have to remember to come back and read this post again before I go camping this summer.

This post was inspired by my good friend Kristine. One of the bravest, joyous woman I know.

Guilt Schmildt

2011-03-30T20:12:00.000-07:00

I was talking to a dear friend of mine today. We were exchanging personal updates and anecdotes about recent events in our lives. She's a busy woman, with more responsibilities than I have purses (and if you know me at all, you'll know that I have a lovely collection!). The reason for her phone call was a confession of guilt. I had asked her a few weeks ago to do something for me, and she simply hadn't had the time, so she called me to apologize. She said she just felt too guilty to let it go. Of course, our conversation got me thinking.....

What is it with us women and guilt? Why must we have such unreachable expectations, such limited capabilities and such a shortage of self-forgiveness?

The complexity of our feminine nature allows the occasional contradictory attitude. The idea that one should not feel guilty for the inescapable imperfections makes sense for all people we know and love. In fact, we are quick to pacify our friends guilt by the standard, yet heartfelt, pep-talks such as, "You are doing the best you can." And yet, when it our attention turns to our own selves, any feeling of tenderness, understanding and acceptance are out the window. We might as well be looking at Mrs. Peacock in the Study holding the sullied candlestick. We are G-U-I-L-T-Y.

So, what is the deal with personal guilt? Is it beneficial? Can we get rid of it? Should we?

To begin with, it's important to recognize that guilt has two origins: cognitive and emotional, or the mind and the heart. When the mind recognizes that we have violated some standard and caused pain to someone else, we logically feel bad for it. It can be understand and remedied by additional action or efforts on our part. A parking ticket can be paid, a missed appointment can be rescheduled.

The other, and far more dangerous, origin for guilt is emotional. This is where a guilty conscience comes from. Logic has no place here. We are convinced the rules of leniency, compassion and forgiveness somehow to do not apply to ourselves. These feelings of guilt come from when we have not lived up to the expectations we have set for ourselves. We did not act as kind as we should, we did not love as unconditionally as we should, we did not clean the house as well as well we should, we did not raise our children like we knew we should. You get the picture. A guilty conscience comes from when we, by our standards, have fallen short.

Guilt isn't a one-trick pony. Nor is it a loner. Guilt comes in many forms and sizes, with brothers, sisters and the crazy Aunt. It comes in small, almost imperceptible whispers, a twinge that fades in moments, a lasting but quiet feeling, a nagging inaudible voice (like the Peanuts adults~wawawaawawa) all across the spectrum, to a paralyzing force that shuts down happiness and hope. Its relatives are remorse, pain, regret, fear and anger. Oh yes, and we mustn't forget crazy Aunt Denial, too!

Is it beneficial?

On a cognitive level, guilt can be constructive if it moves us towards positive action and emotion. We are guilty of a transgression or infraction, we are motivated to make it right. We feel better. Good guilt.

Where guilt is not useful is when it moves us towards negative action (including no action) or emotion. When the guilt allows feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness to breed, it is a bad thing: Bad guilt.

How can we get rid of bad guilt? Simple math.

A+B=C

Unrealistic expectations + misguide view of our performance and abilities = a guilty conscience.

I order to eliminate a guilty conscience, we must have realistic expectations of ourselves and an honest (and forgiving) view of our attempts and abilities. I didn’t say it was easy! I just said it was simple!

For example, as I am writing this, I am sitting on my unmade bed with my laptop. As I look around, I see three piles of laundry, on to be folded, one to be washed and one that was folded until the cat last night decided it would make the perfect bed. There are three boxes that have sat by my file cabinet that have been “waiting” to be put away for 2 weeks, a box of cheezits sitting on my desk from yesterdays snack and my empty cup which contained my SlimFast shake from yesterday (and yes, if you’ve followed my blog from the beginning, you’d be happy to note that I did have some ice cream last night). A few years ago I would look at this mess and feel guilty. I should have a spotless house! Who leaves a cup on their desk from the day before! What a failure! Ugh!

But I don’t feel that way. I have worked hard to have realistic expectations, and I have come to accept that I, in all honesty, just am not the most tidy person! So, now when I look around, I try to see tasks to finish, not a failure on my part. I never thought sitting in a messy room would be so liberating!

Now, I am not freed from the responsibility I have to keep things orderly, but I have been freed from unrealistic expectations and guilt.

So, I extend this challenge to each of you, especially my dear friend for whom this post is dedicated to. Let it go.

How? With Heavenly Father’s help, honestly re-evaluate and readjust the expectations you put on yourself. Are they realistic? Must you save the whole world? (we only need one Savior, and he’s done that already) Is perfection expected today?

Then, again with Heavenly Father’s help, lovingly, for lack of better words, give yourself a break! No woman will be able to check a mark by all the boxes. We are not asked to be all things, we are only asked to try our best. We are to magnify WHO we are, not WHAT we do. It matters not if our house is immaculate, our children behave and we are never late if our character is tainted with pride, anger, selfishness…and guilt.

Guilt is a thief who steals our peace, our confidence, our hope, and our ability to see things for what they truly are. Guilt is the enemy. Let it go, Lisa. I mean, ladies :) Replace it with self-acceptance, self-love, and self-forgiveness. Only then will you be free to see yourself through Heavenly Fathers eyes; see yourself for the amazing person you truly are.

Let it go…………....and don’t feel guilty about it, either!