More Stairs? Seriously?

I spent the day in Seattle a while back, 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 to eat our food.

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 all right. But, you see, I've got Parker Knees.  You won't find it in any medical book- it's a 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.

I started up the remaining 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 that little stair incident this morning. The stairs were not insurmountable, but they were a painful challenge. 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.

I know there have been many times in my life where I felt weighed down, tired, in pain, and even hopeless. As I look back now, I can see that at those times I was always lifted up and supported. It isn't always as easy to see when we are smack dab in the middle of a trial or painful time.

In those times, when your hands hang down or your knees feel feeble, have faith.  God is aware and will send support. He is aware of our trials and will give you what you need to make it through.

Sometimes it comes through an inner strength and perspective given by Him, or perhaps the situation might change. 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. If you can't find anyone, reach for me. I will help.

Sometimes reaching out takes great courage, an act of faith in and of itself. But, that is what we must do--reach out. Most likely someone already is there next to you, waiting with an outstretched hand.

Then you'll find that all you have to do is hold tight, keep going and then enjoy the view.

Stretchy-Stretch

I had this great idea the other day to strap on my shoes with my orthopedic inserts for my bad feet and run a couple miles outside.

I actually didn't feel too bad while I was running, but as soon as I stopped the pain started. My muscles began to yell at me- loudly. I'm pretty sure they said some bad words.

I've never been really good at stretching after exercise because, well, once I'm done exercising, then I'm done. I'm ready to move on. But, this day, I opted to try it.

So, I started doing this hamstring stretch:

 

(This is SO not me.  Imagine her plus about thirty more pound, a dozen rogue gray hairs and a grimace on her face.  That would be me.)


When I first leaned over I could only reach my ankles. And it hurt. I didn't like it. But, I was told that a stretch isn't a good stretch until you hold it for 30 seconds. So I did. And it still hurt.

Until something amazing happened.

At about 20 seconds into the stretch, I felt the strangest sensation of relief in my hamstrings, and it didn't hurt as much. Great! But weird.

With this new sense of relief, I attempted to reach over a little farther and touched my shoe laces. And it hurt. But, I held it.

Then something amazing happened.

At about 20 seconds into the stretch, I felt the same sense of relief in my hamstrings, and it didn't hurt as much.

Intrigued, I leaned in further- as far as I could go- and barely touched the edge of my toes. And it hurt. But, I held it.

Then something amazing happened.

At about 20 seconds into the stretch, I felt the same sense of relief in my hamstrings, and it didn't hurt as much.

Can you see the pattern?

After about five minutes of doing this, I could reach my fingers past my feet and wrap the around the sole of my shoe.

 Pretty cool, huh?!

My husband pops his head into the room. He's a much better athlete then me.I proudly show him my fingers touching the dirty soles of my shoes.

Me: Did you know that if I hold the stretch like this for a while it doesn't hurt as bad?

Him: Yes.

Me: Well, did you know that when I hold it long enough, then I feel this sense of release and I can stretch farther?

Him:  Yes.

Me (thinking I've tapped into some great physical anomaly): Is there a name for this?

Him. Yeah. Stretching.

Me: No, I mean, is there a name for the sensation you feel when your muscles are stretched to the limit, and you hold it, then you feel relief, the you can stretch even farther?!

Him: Stretchy stretch?

His answer made me chuckle, but it also made me think life.

Sometimes in life we go through trials that hurt. They really do.

Some hurt so bad that we just want to quit. And sometimes we do.

But, here is the great spiritual anomaly I tapped into, that really isn't an anomaly at all:

When we hang on during those times - through our faith, prayers, study, the help of others, and maybe even some tears - God can give us a sense of release, or relief during our trials.

We can find relief from our pain through Him in the middle of our trials.

Oh wait. It gets better.

Along we don't only feel a sense of relief and maybe even peace amidst our trials, but as we hold steady in our stretch- in our faith and testimony - we can gain strength and the flexibility to do more.

We can stretch more. We can fight more. We can run more. We can survive more. We can do more.

We can be more that we imagined when the trial (spiritual stretching)  first began!

It is a spiritual stretchy-stretch!


I think sometimes we get tired under the burdens of our afflictions. Many people ask Why? Why must we go through difficult times like this? Why did this happen to me? I don't want this trial. I don't want to hurt.

The truth of it is this:

  Trials can hurt. But they stretch us. And it is only through stretching our spiritual muscles (enduring in faith and hope) that we can achieve greater things. 

The key is to trust in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. They knew we are going to hurt. They know it can be for our benefit. And they are there to help assuage any unnecessary pain.


Joel 2:32: "...whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be delivered..."

11:28 the Savior Himself says: "Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy lade, and I will give you rest..."


If any man was stretched- it was Paul, and yet, he said this:

Phillippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me."


He understood what the Savior was saying.

Now, I'm not as strong as Paul yet. I don't "glory in tribulations" (Romans 5:3), but what I do know what it feels like to be stretched so thin you can see through yourself to the other side. It's a scary place to be.

But I can tell you that it is not a permanent place, either. It is part of the stretchy-stretch that will make us like Paul, if we just hang in there.

In  Acts 14:22 Paul speaks of his great mission, where he taught this principle. He went about "...exhorting them to continue in the faith, and that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God."


Much tribulation = major stretchy stretch.


But, in the end (and even in the middle) it will be worth it.

God is aware. He knows our pain. He also knows stretching is the only way. Have faith in Him that relief, strength, growth, and even blessings will come. Because they will.

Perfection in Progress

Perfect. Perfection. Perfectionist.

These are words that raise the stress level of most women I know.  They seem to be haunted (me included) by the expectation of perfection.  Keep the perfect house, raise the perfect children, say the perfect thing, etc.

Many have seen the fatal flaw in this way of thinking. They have taken it upon themselves to crusade for the right to be imperfect with sayings like:

"A beautiful thing is never perfect." 

"Strive for progress, not perfection."

And though this gives me some sense of relief- it creates a new problem of lowered expectations and complacency. A longing creeps up through the layers of thought- a longing that yes, I do want to be more, I do want to be perfect.

The I wonder where that comes from. Why do I feel this desire, this need to be perfect. 

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks the other day. I was teaching a Sunday School class about Heavenly Father. We were discussing His divine attributes, perfection being one of them. A question popped into my head and out my mouth:

Can a Perfect Being create something imperfect?

I've thought a lot about that in the past few days- even prayed about it. We are created in His image. He is perfect, yet we are not. And the world tells us we aren't supposed to be. And I long for it.

Then a light went on in my head, and in my heart.

God created us perfectly to be perfect. But- we are not finished being made. 

The reason we aren't perfect now, isn't because we are a flawed creation and ever will be. We aren't perfect now because he isn't finished creating us, molding us, teaching us, and raising us.

God isn't finished with me.  I am, in essence, perfection in progress. 

My perfection doesn't lie in my performance, but my potential. This explains my innate desire to strive, to improve, to grow, to be perfect.  This desire is in my heavenly DNA. It's as though my spirit knows something my mind has forgotten:  I was made to reach perfection.  I just haven't gotten there yet.

As I rejoiced in this new perspective, another thought came to my mind:

God's view of perfection has nothing to do with how well I take photographs, or cook, or clean, or exercise, or homeschool my kids (which I don't), scrapbook, blog, Pinterest,  write, dress, or whatever. The perfection God intends for me is perfection in my character and glory and joy.

No where in the scriptures does it say, "Be ye therefore perfect like the skinny, well-dressed  PTA president whose kids always look adorable. Yeah, be like her."

No, the Savior Himself says, "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in Heaven is perfect."

This is what He wants for me...someday- to be perfect like Him, when He is finished with me.

I know I wont' be for a long time. My whole life and then some. That's the way He intended it.

He doesn't expect a finished product when I'm still going through the production line.  I still have missing pieces and experiences. I am still unfinished.

He doesn't suggest, nor expect, perfection now- He only asks that we look to Him for help to realize our perfect potential, and let Him help us get there.

Our struggles and imperfections are not a surprise nor a disappointment to God or the Savior. They knew we would have difficulties and doubts, sadness and frustration, weaknesses and shortcomings. They also  knew at times we would be weighed down by unhealthy expectations and guilt. These things just get in the way of our progression. They want us to turn to them- to hand our weaknesses and sorrows over to them.

In Matthew 11:28 the Savior says, "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Then in John 14:1 he says, "Let your heart not be troubled, ye believe in God, believe also in me."

They want us to be happy now in the knowledge that we will be perfect later. They want to help us now, so we can reach our perfection later. 

That's the beauty of our progression: we don't - can't - do it alone. 

God will be there, if we let Him, to mold us, to guide us, to strengthen us and to cheer us on. He is our creator, and we are His creations in progress. He is actively working with us and through us to help us reach out greatest potential. He celebrates our steps- even the smallest of them - every day. 

He applauds the way we love, serve, repent and forgive. He has given us our innate longing to do better, to be better- not so we will feel sadness in our perfections, but so that we will seek Him out in them. And together, someday, we will be made perfect.

Until then, I know for me, I will find joy in each step I take, knowing that perfection isn't expected of me, but waiting for me someday. 

I'm perfection in progress, and proud of it.

My Husband - My Hero

I made the worst dinner tonight. It was supposed to be a delicious all-in-one hamburger bake. You take the beef patty, frozen veggies and potato wedges; season and bake in tin-foil tents.

I followed the directions to the T. Then called everyone down for dinner.

Imagine, 4 hungry kids (my three plus one) and husband, bow our heads for dinner prayer, the eagerly open the tin-foil pouched to reveal.....a grody mess of still cold veggies, soggy potatoes and meat.

So sad.

I sent them all away as I tried to resurrect dinner.

A half hour later, we sat around the table and ate 'mini meatloafs' (the patties with ketchup on them) mashed potatoes and a salad.

I've got to pat myself on the back for that.  It was a pretty ingenious save and a hit with the kids.

But- that's not what this post was about.  I just have some weird genetic disposition to expose embarrassing things about myself online.  Wait- that didn't sound right.

Anyway- this post is about how my husband is my hero- literally.

After my near-grody dinner I decided to go for a bike ride on the trail near our home. My husband came with me.  We left a little before 8pm. I told the kids we'd be back by 9.

We drove to the trail and started our right. Half way into it the sun began to set. Even with light in the sky, much of the trail is under trees, so the trail quickly grew dark. I was fine at first, but as it grew darker it became more difficult to see.

I had ridden this trail many times by myself- but always in the light. Once the light disappeared, I got nervous. I had been riding in front much of the ride home, setting a pace I was comfortable with. But as it grew darker, I became more nervous.  There was a lot of debris on the trail, and small animals tend to pop out at night.

I put on my brave face and kept riding, wanting to, at this point, ride fast and just get back to the truck.

Then my husband rode past me and pulled in front of me.  His white t-shirt became the beacon to follow.

You'll have to excuse the quality of my picture. I was riding fast up a hill and took this with my phone as I was praying I wouldn't drop it!

He maneuvered past poles, hollering out warnings. He even scared of a large cat, which I'm pretty sure was a bobcat.

I watched him ride in front of me, knowing he probably didn't think anything of it- he was just riding. But for me, I loved the fact that he pulled in front of me. He gave me a light to follow, a voice of warning to heed, a protector from poles and potential bobcats.

As I rode behind my husband I thought of how much my Heavenly Father loves me. In my life there have been many times where I feel I'm riding along, doing great, seeing things in a clear light, feeling strong.

Then, trials come, and things get dark.

At those times, He has always sent someone there to lead and guide me.

My Savior is the first and foremost on that list. He is the beacon in the dark, the giver of all good, my Redeemer and friend.

He has also given me a living prophet to show me the way.

Beyond these, he has given me the promptings of the Holy Ghost to help me see potential dangers as I strive to stay on the path towards God.

He gave me good parents who, during times of teenage angst and trial, lit my way to self-confidence, testimony and success.

He gave me good friends and church leaders along the way as well.

He has given me good children that lead by example of faith and forgiveness.

And He has given me my husband, who leads me by his love for and commitment to the Savior.


How grateful I am for the times if light where I can see the road clearly. But, how more grateful I am for those that He put in my path to help me find my way when I can't see.

Pleasure Write- God's Will

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.

Keep Calm

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!

When Pain Trumps the Pain

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

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. 

More Stairs? Seriously?

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.

The Moment of Truth

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.

Room to Grow

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.