This Is The Good Life

I live the good life, the best life. I haven't showered today, I have clothes that smell like baby spitup, and a toy car in my sweatshirt pocket. Yes, this is the good life.

I have a four-year degree gracefully poised on my book shelf and I don't mind. Being a stay-at-home mom is the best job I could possibly want. I am so grateful my circumstances allow me to do this. My joy is overflowing as I get to see my boys learn, grow, and develop. These two make me feel like a million bucks, but the best part about it is they have no idea!

We came home from playgroup this morning, and both boys were bushed. My heart felt so much love for my boys as I held both of them and tucked them into bed. It's moments like these where the phrase, "this is the good life" comes into my mind. And it's true. While I am grateful for my degree (and will be encouraging my girls strongly to get theirs!) being a mom is incredibly fulfilling. I honestly can't imagine life without my two bears (our "love" name for them).

Holding the title of "MOM" is pretty extraordinary, and I'm so glad that's my name.

Hymn of Praise

Since middle school I have loved singing in choirs. In particular, I love church choirs. It is often said that music is a quick way to invite the Spirit into any meeting. I agree that it's true, and particularly being the one to sing the music.

Tonight I went to my first choir practice on years- we're talking I don't even remember the last choir I was apart of. My how wonderful it was! I'm not a fabulous singer by any stretch of the imagination, but I love music and I love how it can express the feelings of my heart so perfectly. Richard and I agree, while church choirs are meant to enhance the spirit of a given meeting, the impact of the music is most deeply felt by those who have dedicated time to practicing and performing it.

I am so grateful music has always been an important part of my home. As a child, each family home evening night we would gather around the piano and sing some hymn. I can often remember us singing more than one because we all would have our own requests, and too just because it was fun to sing together. On occasion, my sister and I would lure my mom to the piano and we would sing as many songs as she or we had time for. At the time it was just normal, now I see how truly peculiar and special that was. My mom's talent for playing the piano has blessed my family with treasured memories, and has given, at least me, a deep gratitude for the spirit of music.

Tonight was a blessing to my soul. No matter my singing ability, I feel grateful to praise God through music. He is truly miraculous.

Truth

One thing I learned in college is that truth is universal. No matter if it is spiritual or secular, truth is truth. And because of that I can have a meaningful moment with the Holy Ghost because whatever I am reading, listening to, or learning is exposing me to truth (which the Holy Ghost is meant to testify of). It is a powerful thing.

Tonight as I sat with my frozen yogurt in my lap perusing Pintrest until Ricky came up, I came across an interesting article about tantrums. As I read, that magical, pure, beautiful feeling came to my heart and whispered, "you're reading a truth."
(Article link: http://consciouslyparenting.blogspot.com/2012/02/alternative-view-of-tantrums-and.html?m=1)

I often think back to the best pre-mommy advice I have been given: "Do everything you can to qualify for the gift of the Holy Ghost." It has made all the difference. As I have deliberately sought the Holy Ghost to guide me in my parenting, it has found me and taught me the truths I need as a mother, wife, and friend.

I feel like a universal mom question is, "am I doing it right?" At least it's my question that I seem to pray about often. I am endlessly grateful for the confirmations I receive through the Holy Ghost that I'm doing okay.

The other day while reading the Friend to William during lunch time I had one of those moments- those pure, sweet, tears-pricking-my-eyes moments. I was experiencing a truth: what I was doing was right. Bam. That quick, that natural, that powerful. This has happened to me several times, and most leave me crying as I try to finish our story.

Another experience with truth has left me feeling answered. After having William, I felt like my attitude towards my body was very kind and realistic. After Carter, I admit, I have been struggling. I have been praying for personal kindness and vision to see the good, but (as many women understand) it has been an uphill battle. The other night I came across this wonderful site (Beauty Redefined). Among several of the articles I read, I read about getting your body back after having a baby. The author's friend is photographed in the article, with the words "I am beauty redefined" written on her body. As I looked at her picture and read the article, I had another run in with truth– I am okay, better yet, I am beautiful, I am known. I held back tears of gratitude for the answer to my prayers and of thanks to this sweet woman who shared a truth: our bodies change and that's okay! Beauty isn't in a perfect bod, beauty is in who you are, what you give yourself to, and in your divinity.

In a world that can feel like it is dripping in polluted corruption, I am thankful for the moments I find truth. I am thankful I can have spiritual moments in my day to day living. I know God is real. I know He loves us. I know He is in the details- that's where I see Him the best. I know He is teaching me. I know He cares. I couldn't be more grateful for this knowledge. Truth is power.

Desires of My Parent Heart

When I am in particularly sappy moods, I warn Rich by telling him I'm a sentimental-shmuck. He gets it by now that what follows is ooey and gooey in the love department. I just can't help myself though! All these happy, good feelings collide and what escapes is pungent with sticky, sappy love. I'm trying to write in journals for my boys (trying being the key word!), and I warned them there too that what is written will most likely be lots of sappy, sticky, ooey gooey, lovey-dovey expressions of how wonderful I think they are- because that's when I like writing best.
I live a rather wonderful, blessed life. It's not perfect by any means, and though the imperfect elements about myself and my life can be frustrating, it's okay because all in all, life (the big picture) is good.
Adding Carter to our family has been a terrific blessing. It has been testing to get used to all of the changes and new demands for patience and less "me time", but my how my love has grown! I feel wonderfully blessed to be a mom. Today felt like the most normal day since having Carter. I woke up and fed the 17 lb. chunk-a-hunk, made French toast for W and me, got W up, ate, put C down, then sat and played with W like we have done so many times. I mostly watched as W raced (aka softly padded back and forth) in his big dump truck outside. I took cute videos of him which he watched a good 20 times before losing interest. Then we got C up, fed him, got W fed and they both went back down for naps. Wow. Normal! It feels good.
When I think about my boys, two of the people I love most in this world, I naturally hope the absolute best for them. I think of the world they are growing up in, and pray for them to have moral courage to do what is right- no matter the sacrifice. I pray for them to have the moral courage to be protectors of women, defenders of virtue, and beacons of light to those they are around. I pray for them to be good friends to each other and to help one another through good and bad times. I hope they maximize their potential trough keeping covenants with God that add to their liberty and ability to make proactive life choices. I hope they come to feel the cleansing power of the atonement, because I know they'll need it.
There are so many deep desires of my heart. Sometimes I get a little anxious about wondering how they'll turn out. Rich is good to remind me that we do our best to teach them, and that's all we can do, the rest is their ability to choose. He's absolutely right.
A friend shared a talk with me by Sister Patricia Holland. In her talk, she explained many of my feelings and gave me much needed hope. She said, "...it seems that even if our children are not having problems, a nagging uneasiness keeps us wondering how we can keep them off such painful paths. At odd moments we find ourselves thinking, “Am I doing a good job? Are they going to make it? Should I spank them or should I reason with them? Should I control them or should I just ignore them? Reality has a way of making the best of us feel shaky as a parent." (Parenting: Everything to Do with the Heart)
She also shared this insight, "Every child has to practice on his mother, and in a more important way, every mother has to practice on her child. That is God’s way for parent and child to work out their salvation. I mentioned earlier that we all come into the world crying. Considering all the humbling purposes of life, perhaps it is understandable that we will continue to shed a tear or two from time to time. But it helps us to always remember that these are God’s children as well as ours. And above all, it should give us a perfect brightness of hope to know that when we need help we can go through the veil to get it."
I do worry so much about doing it (meaning parenting) right. I care so much about the seemingly small and insignificant details. It brings great comfort to know that I can take those concerns to the Lord and He will hear me out and help me understand with new eyes and a new heart.
I know in parenting I will make mistakes. I am so thankful for the power of forgiveness and the help of the atonement. I am not someone who makes parenting look easy. My flustered state gives me away all too quickly, but in spite of that, I hope people can see my inner desire for goodness, my inner desire to do the best I can for my kids. Like so many others, I am working to do my very best every day.
Elder Russell M. Nelson taught, "...the human race doesn’t run on a smooth track. The route more closely resembles an obstacle course with hurdles, puddles, or snares lurking around every turn we make. Life isn’t meant to be easy. The race isn’t to be won by the swift or the flashy. Victory comes only to those who muster the faith to stay on the track—the strait and narrow way." (Lessons from Eve)
I relate to that quote so very much! I cannot say how grateful I am for my guiding force in my life. He is quick to lead and direct me, always.

Hold Fast, My Baby

Time is my friend and my enemy. It's fickle pace pushes my emotions. Too fast, too slow, but seldom just right. How can that be?
Sweet Carter Jefferson is two months old. Precious William McKay is twenty-two months old. My dear boys, you're growing so fast! There are days when I can't wait for them to hit the next phase. I want to see more of who they are and what they're thinking. Then there are days where I want them to stay just as little as they are, and wrap them up in the joy of their present.
I feel so terribly, wonderfully in love! These sweet little angels are mine, and I get to teach them day in and day out. What a remarkable challenge and opportunity !
Several days ago I went in to get William up (hardly happens!) as I walked in and looked down at my baby he was gone! In his place laid a little toddler boy- one whose legs stretched the length of his crib, and whose once swaddled limbs lay sprawled out, clutching his favorite lovies. In that moment my breath caught and I thought, "oh, hold fast, my boy! You're growing so quick!"
Each day with my boys is a tremendous blessing. I find myself more wildly in love with them as the days pass. For all the hard hurdles we jump together, I cherish when my rose colored shades light up my vision and I see how beautiful life really is.

I love you, my dear boys, more than heart and words can express. Thank you, God for giving me the best.

Mother Heart

There is so much on this mother heart of mine. This morning I boxed up Carter's newborn clothes. It feels like we just welcomed this sweet boy into our family, and yet it feels right that he's growing and changing... Time speeds quickly along.
Rich and I spent two solid weeks sick as can be in the six weeks after Carter was born. I felt overwhelmed so often. The newness of a sweet newborn and being sick felt like too much to handle. I prayed a lot, and feel like I have learned to see Heavenly Father's help in a new way; in the way He is extending it to me.
In my church, the women 18 years and older go to a class called Relief Society. One of the establishing goals has long been to offer relief. Never before have I seen and felt the relief this society offers more than in the last six weeks. I was strengthened by the encouraging words from William's nursery leader who gave me hope that William would adjust, I was visited by loving leaders who listened to my postpartum emotions and brought me "vegan" cheese (because of Carter's needs), my family was nourished by a caring visiting teacher and relief society leader who brought us food on one of our sick weeks, and Carter was wrapped in love by all the gifts people brought for him. I have never felt so fortunate to belong to this society of women who, in spite of human frailties, work so hard to lift up the one in need and be the hands of God. Help is one of the hardest things to ask for, and yet one of the most needed things to receive.
As I am adjusting to waking up often in the night again, and dealing with another baby who spits up a lot, grunts, and has to work hard for a good BM, I have been truly humbled by my limits and my need for heaven's help. The other night Carter was having an exceptionally rough night. I was so tired; all I wanted was to sleep for an hour or two more, and yet my babe was distressed and I was his only relief. After thinking a strand of discouraging thoughts, I took Carter out of our room, laid him in his crib, shut the door, and came to kneel in supplication for help. My prayer was honest, I needed strength to help my baby, and perspective to get me there. I went back in, and rocked Carter until his pain and discomfort went away. An hour or two later I woke up. Never have I felt so grateful to sleep in a rocking chair! I'm not sure why, but part of me is reluctant to share my supplication and received help. Maybe because my heart is so humbled at my weaknesses, and maybe it's because for me, sleep in a rocking chair is God's hand being shown to me- it's my way of knowing He cares and is listening. But either way, through motherhood, I am being taught and shown my weaknesses and how to overcome them step by step- even the humbling ones.
In speaking of being humbled as I mother two boys, I came across a beautiful article that strengthened my spirits. http://www.shortstopblog.com/2013/08/to-moms-of-one-or-two-children.html?m=1
I love how positive this woman is. I exited her blog feeling validated for all the mixture of emotions I've been feeling; particularly that of being maxed out. Motherhood takes so much time and energy. Just getting the boys fed, bathed, pajamas on, teeth (for W) brushed, and settled into bed feels like a nightly sprit, and lets face it- I've never been that good at sprinting! In high school I did the 300 meter hurdles, and we have a video of me my sophomore/senior years competing in the district 300 meter race... It's so painful to watch! But even though I performed terribly, I did finish the races both times, and although getting my babies settled at night seems crazy busy, I am able to do it every night, and am able to cross that "finish line" where I melt into my bed and fade to la la land. This mommy business is serious work; the hardest I've ever done! But it is so, so worth it!!
As a new mom, I loved how William would snuggle his face into my neck after nursing. I would sit and hold my baby and just feel like the luckiest mom ever. I had a baby who loved me and whom I loved more than my heart could describe. With Carter, I get to enjoy that same sweetness. Last night I thought to myself how beautiful a feeling it was to sit there patting my baby cheek to cheek. It's a God-given moment where I feel His grace. How blessed I am to be a mom!
My best friend from high school came to visit us this last month, and in talking I explained how I want to be real about motherhood; it is so hard at times, but it is also the best, most worthwhile thing I have ever done. I wouldn't give it up, trade, or wait longer to have what I do now. I have many moments where I think/have thought, "I just can't do this..." And it's true, I alone can't/couldn't. But God has been good to me, and where no outside help is available, He has shown me the way, given me the strength and patience, or sent his angels (a lot of the time being my husband) to shoulder what I can't any more. I am grateful to have an unlimited amount of "phone a friend"'s that I can rely on: prayer has no limits.
Motherhood is such an adventure!

Tutor

The week prior to having Carter, William was an emotional basket case! I found myself wondering repeatedly, "what were we thinking?! We can't do this— I can't do this!" I wondered repeatedly how to meet Will's unknown, unpredictable needs with a newborn and his new, unknown, unpredictable needs as well.
I'm pretty sure any realistic, honest mom would admit to the fact that motherhood is full of extremes: superb happiness and thrill followed by pressing, forceful demand for deeper character than thought possible. I feel it honest to say, motherhood is the hardest thing I have ever done. I have never had to be so patient continuously, more selfless, or as penitent and submissive to impressions than as a mother. I have never felt such surging joy, protection, and love over a person as I have as a mother. Not just over my children, but that love has encompassed my darling husband, and a deeper adoration for my parents and family members.
When I look at the reality of motherhood, I believe it takes true grit. It's not a task to embark on because "babies are cute." Their sweetness is motivation, yes, but not cause alone. Raising another human being has far reaching implications to society and to the world of that individual who belongs to a family unit.

I came across this quote which I think applies to this heavy task of motherhood. "The Prophet Joseph Smith taught that to be like God we must go "from one small degree to another, and from a small capacity to a great one; from grace to grace, from exaltation to exaltation, until you attain to the resurrection of the dead, and are able to dwell in everlasting burnings, and to sit in glory, as do those who sit enthroned in everlasting power" ( "Be Ye Therefore Perfect": Beyond the Perfectionist Paradigm", Allan D. Rau).

Motherhood is my divine tutor.

Dreamer

Over the last month or two I've had several dreams where I wake up having born my purest, deepest conviction of the atonement. Normally my dreams are a mix of random, unrelated, hopefully never to come true events, but these testimony dreams have been uniquely powerful and real. I have woken up with a bright smile on my face (or maybe it's just in my heart... ;)), and with the desire to have those words apart of my whole day. As I have grown in my conversion and strength in the gospel of Jesus Christ I have had two principles etched unmistakably into my heart: 1) God hears and answers my prayers, 2) the power of the atonement is real and applies directly to me.

After reading Chieko Okazaki's book, "Lighten Up," she has become a spiritual heroine of mine. I want to be like this woman when I grow up. She puts the atonement in personal perspective, because the atonement is precisely that: personal. She expresses:

"Well, my dear sisters, the gospel is the good news that can free us from guilt. We know that Jesus experienced the totality of mortal existence in Gethsemane. It's our faith that he experienced everything- absolutely everything. Sometimes we don't think through the implications of that belief. We talk in great generalities about the sins of all humankind, about the suffering of the entire human family. But we don't experience pain in generalities. We experience it individually. That means he knows what it felt like when your mother died of cancer- how it was for your mother, how it still is for you. He knows what it felt like to lose the student body election. He knows that moment when the brakes locked and the car started to skid. He experienced the slave ship sailing from Ghana toward Virginia. He experienced the gas chambers at Dachau. He experienced Napalm in Vietnam. He knows about drug addiction and alcoholism.
Let me go further. There is nothing you have experienced as a woman that he does not also know and recognize. On a profound level, he understands the hunger to hold your baby that sustains you through pregnancy. He understands both the physical pain of giving birth and the immense joy. He knows about PMS and cramps and menopause. He understands about rape and infertility and abortion. His last recorded words to his disciples were, "And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." (Matthew 28:20) He understands your mother-pain when your five-year-old leaves for kindergarten, when a bully picks on your fifth-grader, when your daughter calls to say that the new baby has Down syndrome. He knows your mother-rage when a trusted babysitter sexually abuses your two-year-old, when someone gives your thirteen-year-old drugs, when someone seduces your seventeen-year-old. He knows the pain you live with when you come home to a quiet apartment where the only children are visitors, when you hear that your former husband and his new wife were sealed in the temple last week, when your fiftieth wedding anniversary rolls around and your husband has been dead for two years. He knows all that. He's been there. He's been lower than all that. He's not waiting for us to be perfect. Perfect people don't need a Savior. He came to save his people in their imperfections. He is the Lord of the living, and the living make mistakes. He's not embarrassed by us, angry at us, or shocked. He wants us in our brokenness, in our unhappiness, in our guilt and our grief." (Lighten Up, Preface, p. 174)

I love sweet Sister Okazaki. Her faith invigorates my own.

I feel like Sister Okazaki, the atonement is often spoken of in its grander: "The Savior atoned for the sins if all mankind," "the Savior atoned for the sorrows of all mankind." But we seldom look at our lives as very grand, and because of that we feel to wait to call upon the power of the atonement until some grand event does come into our lives.

The atonement was meant to be highly personal and individually applicable. There are burdens and worries too personal to share publicly, and too constant to bear alone. This is one of the many reasons we have the atonement. We need not wait until some grand event occurs to work on finding the balm in Gilead, the peace of the Savior's atonement.

The atonement gives us the capacity to do things beyond our current strength. It gives us hope when all hope seems to have run out on us. It lifts the burdens we cannot carry alone and frees us from personal hellish torment of spirit and mind. The atonement cleanses and purifies our hearts to become more than we are. It enables us to see the good in our spirits, and allows trespasses to be forgiven completely.

We do not need to do anything in life alone. The Savior is there for all circumstances. Through His compassion and healing we can walk each day guided by the Spirit, and with hope of becoming.

God is in the details of my life. I am a simple woman, and He reminds me of His presence and His eternal care through the simple things around me.

I know the atonement is real. Its application is in the every day details of our lives. Though we are just one of many spirits our Father created, we must remember that He created us and has pure love for us, and that that fact alone is reason enough for us to daily turn to the atonement for comfort, healing, and purification.

A Dose of Perspective

I wish I had a constant level headed perspective about me. Occasionally I get overwhelmed by the onslaught of tasks to do– especially the ones I repeatedly do throughout the day: dishes, picking up toys, meal prep, etc. The last few days have been a complete blessing though, because I have been able to see past the to-do list to what that to-do list means.

Rich and I often take on hefty projects... Sometimes knowing the time and effort commitment, sometimes not. Our recent project has been painting our entry way, kitchen area, and half bath. (Ya, this is one of those "we bit off more than we can chew!" projects.) Despite the chaotic mess of it all, I have been blessed with some beautiful "ah-ha!" moments.

Last night as we were working on finishing touches for painting, I stopped to clean up the total disaster William had made with his toys. As I was cleaning I thought, "Wow, Will had such a fun time pulling out all of his toys and playing with them in so many areas of the house." It made me feel glad that he is exploring and adventuring about his safe house. Once I had all the toys put away, I looked at the line up of trucks, stuffed animals, and Lego blocks and thought, "Wow! William is so blessed. Look at all the fun toys he has."

My body was aching and exhausted, yet I felt a strong sense of gratitude and pride. Gratitude that God has blessed us with a great job, home, and opportunity. Pride because we have worked to do our part of the deal to merit blessings and financial freedom. I felt it a blessing all of the sudden to even be able to work on long, laborious home-projects. It means we have a home! I can be sore-bodied over that!

As I sit here typing, I'm looking over at the bathroom mirror that is laying on the couch until it can be reinstalled. There are lip marks, finger marks, and slobber spots all over it. In my mind I know I'll be cleaning that bad boy up, but more prominent is knowing who all those marks are from. William got a kick out of looking at himself in the mirror. He thought he was so funny kissing his little boy reflection, patting his own reflected hand, and trying to figure out where the kid was. He giggled and giggled over it. I'd say it's totally worth the Windex and paper towel.

After putting William to bed, laughing hysterically over a plastic elephant who romps around his crib making elephant noises which result in tickles and little boy laughter, I headed to my bedroom to grab a few things. My check list of "I really need to clean this..." was working over time (I told you, I'm behind from these dang projects!) , I had to stop and laugh as I looked at the toys in my tub used to distract Will long enough for me to get ready. I thought about how he played with all the buckets and cups and thought, "it's totally worth the clean up."

I realize there are prices to pay when allowing William to explore and play in the variety of ways he does. I am thankful for letting go of perfection and letting the messes be made for the sake of one infectiously happy little boy.

I hope that next time my body aches like a 90 year-old, I can remember these moments of perspective, and feel relieved that I have a beautiful home to maintain, a charming husband who is blessed with a job to provide it all for us, and that the toys are because I let a little boy discover that day.

Help through the Atonement

This past week has put my mothering skills to the test. There is so much I feel highly inadequate at. The questions, "am I doing this right?" "Should I do this differently?" are never far from my mind. When William is happy and content I feel a surge of happiness that I am doing things well. When he is upset and fussy all day long, I wonder what on earth I need to be doing but am not. The desperation for answers and directions is nearly palpable during these moments.

One of my character quirks (if it can be called such) is that I pray a lot... It's the one thing I trust even more than my go to girls (aka my sister and mom). I have needed to pray a lot lately; particularly for the help to adequately meet the challenge of being a good mother. William has been so sensitive this week, that I feel my cup of patience being chugged every hour. I have felt myself wondering what else I have left to give him, and somehow I have been blessed to be still enough to hear little answers about me.

While trying to help get William and myself breakfast, I set him down to stand beside me while I hefted the economy size cereal bag up and into our bowls. Immediately he started crying the big "I'm going to have my heart broken in two seconds!" tears. He wedged himself between my legs and the cupboards where I was standing, pleading for me to pick him up. I told him, "buddy, I just need you to be patient with me." Immediately I heard in my mind his reply, "but mommy, don't you see? I need you to be patient with me." Answer number one of the day, check. I decided to change my plans, and just be patient. I can't even tell you if I got dressed or not, but I can tell you I dealt with less crying and more smiles because I gave up everything else I wanted to do to just be patient.

While I wish William would be happy constantly and end this fussing phase so my patience would stop its ebb and flow motion, I am humbly aware of the reality that much of motherhood is learning to ask the right questions which lead to the right answers which in turn strengthen my faith in the reality of our Heavenly Father and Savior. I am learning how deeply the atonement applies to all aspects of my life. I have pure confidence that the atonement is real. Several times this week I have had to stop and ask for the anger, frustration, etc. to be taken from my heart. I have been humbled by the ways I have felt that frustration leave, whether fast or slow. Though I feel my inadequacies outweigh my strengths, I am thankful that the atonement makes up the difference: that it blesses me to see the one good thing about me, and puts to rest my pile of "I'm just not..."

I know Heavenly Father is the greatest go-to for advice on parenting. I know the atonement of Christ is real and applicable to the small and simple inadequacies of my life. I trust that I will be aided to become the best mom I can be, and I know it won't happen over night but over the course of my life. This week I am so humbly grateful for help as I pray for it.

Relief Society Birthday

Like I mentioned last post, my ward and I are celebrating the 171st birthday of Relief Society this month! The activities committee and I have been working hard to make sure everything is all set and ready. We have an incredibly talented ward. I have been feeling so grateful for the many ways women chip in, use their talents, and give of their time to help us create an environment where we can celebrate the goodness of this society; it being a truly extraordinary one!

It sounds so stupid, but I feel really happy because we were able to do things in a cost effective way by using coupons, looking for sales, and using materials we already had on hand. I kept praying that we would use the money we have been allotted in a wise way (because I get concerned about these silly little things), and I feel that Heavenly Father helped direct all of us to the right places for the supplies we needed.

Because it has been such a labor of love, I thought I would share what it looked like, what the program was like, and how the sisters responded to the evening. (Not to tout my ego, but to totally brag about how excellent Relief Society is, and how fun it can be to be involved!)

For our program we had planned to show two video clips about the organization of the Relief Society. Unfortunately that didn't happen because of technical difficulties (which inevitably happens!) We made the best of it. Our Relief Society president spoke and gave a message we all needed to hear. Our committee member who conducted did a wonderful job also tying in our hoped for message into the night. I spoke briefly (and of course got hormonally teary...) about the empowerment of our society and the vision of it. Then we did a little activity where we passes out cards in envelopes (so the ladies could keep it personal and private), and we asked them three questions:
-How has Relief Society personally impacted your life?
-How has Relief Society personally impacted your family? and,
-How has Relief Society impacted the world in your opinion?

I feel like its hard to tell if the meeting was a huge success or not, mostly because I was in and out 95% of the night making sure everything was a-okay. But I do think some main things were addressed, and as my husband reminded me, those who wanted to gain something did. I just have this tendency to want to make everything turn into a powerful spiritual moment, when in reality what happened tonight was probably what needed to happen.

I give huge props to all the ladies who contributed so much. We had amazing cake (I'm not joking! This stuff is worthy of being injected into your veins ;)), lovely decorations (put together with the loving dedication and time of several ladies), and fabulous people who brought food for us to share and enjoy. We were very blessed, let me get real!

Something Extraordinary

This month my ward is celebrating the 171st Relief Society Birthday with the them, "We Are Going to do Something Extraordinary" (quote by Emma Smith). As I have been pondering this theme and studying it out, I have come to better understand what extraordinary things Sister Smith was talking about.

One of the most extraordinary things about Relief Society, to me, is that this organization is a place where women of all backgrounds, ages, interests, and circumstances belong. It is a place where we all find unity; not because we are all the same in every way, but because we come together in the strength of our mutual faith in Christ. Relief Society, when fully taken advantage of, is the place where we can stand together, firm and undaunted in the things that are eternally true.

I recently have been listening to a talk by Sherri Dew, "Five Things That Will Wreck Your Life, Five Things That Will Save It." In it she talks about what she would do if she were Satan to distract us women from returning to God. A few of her tools were: get the women to squabble (judge) one another, get the women to form cliques, confuse them about their gender roles and identity, make sure they never find out how to personally apply the atonement or personal revelation. When I heard her suggestions I just kept thinking, "yep! How many times has Old Scratch tried that on me?!"

One of the most destructive tools of the adversary against us women is to make us believe that we have no place in Relief Society; that Relief Society is for the really old ladies, or for the crafty stay-at-home moms, or the spiritually noble. All of those things are lies and deceptions. Relief Society may not be perfect; you may not leave every Sunday feeling like your heart is full of sunshine and roses. But you better believe that it is an organization inspired of God, and when looked at through the right perspective, it is the one place where you can gain untold strength to live your faith day in and day out.

Satan works his magic to deceive us into this notion that "we don't belong." Why does he do that? Because it is ten times easier to confuse, discourage, and subdue a woman of God into inactivity if she is not surrounded and bouied up by other friends and women of God.

Satan is a crafty man. He will stop at nothing to derail us from the fast course to heaven. But God is smarter, more caring, and more prepared than he is. Relief Society is extraordinary for many, many reasons. The purpose of unity, friendship, and hope in and through Christ is just one of those extraordinary things about Relief Society.

***
Just today I came across this YouTube video by, whom I feel has become a dear friend, Chieko Okazaki. She more perfectly and more visually describes and depicts what I was trying to convey in my above post. I truly want to be like this woman!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daLur3u6l9M&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Really There

William has been giving me lots of love lately. He hardly wants me to put him down, and gets very anxious when he thinks I'm about to leave. I've been trying to take things slow with him, give him the love he needs, and hopefully get to what needs to be done at least before Rich gets home.

On Tuesday, Rich was at young men's (youth group) so I did bed time alone. We did our usual routine, bath, pj's, scriptures, prayer, song. While I sang to William, he stood on the inside of his crib with his arms wrapped around my neck, his teddy bear smooshed in the hug with us. I felt his sweet little head rest against my face and all I could think about was the tremendous love I have for this boy. I stopped my singing to just talk to him. Because I am maybe a bit on the ridiculously sentimental side, I asked him if he could feel how much I love him, if he knew how happy he makes me and the purpose he fills my heart with. I told him that I am so glad his dad and I get to raise him, and then I just watched as he snuggled in and absorbed the silence we shared. It was a simple moment that has filled my heart.

Motherhood is an incredible profession. From the time I can remember, I innately loved babies and taking care of them. I drug countless baby dolls around as a little girl, and when my poor little brother arrived, he became my human doll. I still have to catch myself from trying to over mother him. I am simply amazed by the innate desire in me to nurture. There is something so fulfilling and empowering about it.

Recently, I listened to an older General Conference talk by Elder Robert D. Hales. He gave a story about how one day he was sitting reading the news paper, while his grandson snuggled beside him and jabbered on. After a few minutes had gone by, his grandson turned to him and said, "grandpa, are you in there?" Elder Hales then asked the question, "mother, father, are you there?" Out of his whole talk, I have thought repeatedly on that question. Am I really there? When I am with William, am I really with him? Or am I too worried about projects to be done, the Internet to peruse, or cleaning our blaze of a mess?

I realize all things have a time and a purpose. I don't feel like it is harmful to William if I spend time cleaning, or chat on the phone with my mom while he plays. But how much time am I dedicating to those things verses how much time am I dedicating to really being with William? While much of my instincts are natural in the nurturing department, I am increasingly aware of my gratitude for the power of inspiration. I do try to do my best to be a good mom, and because my desires are in the right place, I often have thoughts or impressions come to mind that inspire me to be a better mom. The question often comes to mind, "is that (whatever I'm doing instead of helping Will) so important?" And often times the answer is, "no." I am grateful I don't have to try to be a good mom on my own. Someone much wiser than me gives me the help and direction I need as I seek daily help; what a comfort that is!

I have hope that out of the thousands of ways to be a good mom, He'll help me be the type of "good mom" my children need. He will help me to be the type of mom that is really there; for the big things and especially the daily small things. God knows my children better than I ever will, and I trust His direction.

I think success in motherhood is calculated in the smallest of small moments. It's simply doing your best to be present and attentive. The magical moments then happen in natural stride, without planning or preparation; they come because you're there, you're really there. My children will come to learn how overly mushy and sentimental I can be, but they are going to have to deal with it ;) I want them to hear my voice of love and encouragement when they are feeling sad, lost, or confused. I want them to know they are my world, because they are. I want them to remember the things we did together, the things I did for them, and the feelings they had because I was really there.

Out of all the things I could do with my time and talents, being a mother who is truly there is the best thing I can think of.

My Mormon Faith: The Book of Mormon

Today I feel to write with the goal of Christian unity; to stand united in a mutual belief in Christ with all my friends who believe He is our Savior and God is our eternal Father. I write with the deep desire for understanding and hope that I have chosen the right words to adequately convey my conviction in our Savior and Father. Understanding the heart and nature of our fellow Christians is what we need to strive for. We need to stick together on everything we agree on, and support each other on our personal journey back to God.

With this sincere goal in mind, I share with you my testimony of the Book of Mormon— another testament of Jesus Christ.

As a Latter-day Saint, we are encouraged to spend quality time reading our scriptures each day. Since I was about a freshman in high school, I have really tried to do this. I am trying to go deeper in my scripture study; making an added effort to learn what God is trying to teach me personally. I have come to realize there is personal direction and comfort I gain when I do this.

The other day I didn't have that much time to sit down and read, so I decided to listen to some past General Conference talks on my phone (while Will bulldozed around the house!) The talk, "Safety for the Soul" by Jeffrey R Holland came on. He is such a powerful speaker and has an incredible love for God and His word. His talk in part is his testimony and witness of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. It was easy for me to feel the sincerity of his words; I have come to love and know the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon too.

I have heard that the Book of Mormon is a great stumbling block for people. Some wonder why God would have a young boy translate scripture for our day, others discredit it because it is not in the Bible, some believe spooks and myths about its contents and origin, and others rest on apathetic disinterest. When our young missionaries go out proselyting, they give out copies of the Book of Mormon, share their personal testimonies of it, and ask the investigator (aka person their teaching) to read either certain scriptures they have marked or the book itself. Some people take them up on it. Others choose not to. I can say that the vast majority of those who do take them up on the challenge feel the powerful goodness of the book- even if they don't embrace the Mormon faith.

The Book of Mormon is roughly 527 pages, and is translated in several different languages (of which I do not have an exact list, but if you're interested you can easily find!) I just recently finished reading the book cover to cover for the I-don't-know-how-manyth time (;)), and came away with a deeper, more personal love for the book.

I give you my personal testimony that the Book of Mormon is inspired of God. It testifies of God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost whom I love dearly. Through my study of the Book of Mormon I have deepened my personal relationship with God, and fully trust that Christ's grace is sufficient to heal all my wounds, sins, and imperfections. I give heed to its counsel and warnings, trusting they are messages from God through His prophets of old.

The Book of Mormon reassures me that God cares about His children no matter if they were born before, during, or after the time of Christ. The Book of Mormon reassures me that God knows the circumstances into which He sends His spirit children and has thoroughly prepared a way for them to return to live with Him in full glory. The Book of Mormon comforts me that I can be a successful mother, wife, individual, and friend. It teaches me clearly how to seek early inspiration from God through prayer, fasting, scripture study, and temple observance. The Book of Mormon reassures me that good always triumphs evil, and that God will not forsake those who choose Him. The Book of Mormon gives me confidence to stand for what is true- even if it means I stand alone. The Book of Mormon is my source of joy and hope. It is my connection to the eternities.

I believe the words of the Book of Mormon. I believe that it was translated by a servant of God so that we can have additional witness and clarification of God's truths, His nature, and the way to return to His presence. I love this book. It has become a dear friend to me in a way only holy truth can.

Returning to the reference I made to Jeffrey R Hollands talk, I want to share with you an excerpt from it as one of the many reasons why I find the Book of Mormon so convincingly true. His words are my words of testimony and faith.

"When Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum started for Carthage to face what they knew would be an imminent martyrdom, Hyrum read these words to comfort the heart of his brother:

“Thou hast been faithful; wherefore … thou shalt be made strong, even unto the sitting down in the place which I have prepared in the mansions of my Father.

“And now I, Moroni, bid farewell … until we shall meet before the judgment-seat of Christ.”

"[These are a] few short verses from the 12th chapter of Ether in the Book of Mormon. Before closing the book, Hyrum turned down the corner of the page from which he had read, marking it as part of the everlasting testimony for which these two brothers were about to die... Later, when actually incarcerated in the jail, Joseph the Prophet turned to the guards who held him captive and bore a powerful testimony of the divine authenticity of the Book of Mormon. Shortly thereafter pistol and ball would take the lives of these two testators.

"As one of a thousand elements of my own testimony of the divinity of the Book of Mormon, I submit this as yet one more evidence of its truthfulness. In this their greatest—and last—hour of need, I ask you: would these men blaspheme before God by continuing to fix their lives, their honor, and their own search for eternal salvation on a book (and by implication a church and a ministry) they had fictitiously created out of whole cloth?

"Never mind that their wives are about to be widows and their children fatherless. Never mind that their little band of followers will yet be “houseless, friendless and homeless” and that their children will leave footprints of blood across frozen rivers and an untamed prairie floor. Never mind that legions will die and other legions live declaring in the four quarters of this earth that they know the Book of Mormon and the Church which espouses it to be true. Disregard all of that, and tell me whether in this hour of death these two men would enter the presence of their Eternal Judge quoting from and finding solace in a book which, if not the very word of God, would brand them as imposters and charlatans until the end of time? They would not do that! They were willing to die rather than deny the divine origin and the eternal truthfulness of the Book of Mormon."

My dear friends, truth has a way of penetrating the tests of time. This book fills me with light, hope, and joy. My life acts as a testimony to its goodness; I will forever strive to live by what I learn from this book. Whether or not you choose to read it and come to know the truths in it is a matter of personal choice, but please, trust that when I say its words are good, that they testify of Christ and His divine mission, and that it brings light and hope to my life that I am telling you the honest, most heart felt truth I have come to know.

There is great strength and very little harm to standing together in our mutual love for Christ and His commandments. Life is so sweet when our minds are filled with truth!

The Image

If you read this post, you may think, "oh here she goes again..." And I can't blame you if you do. I may beat subjects to a pulp, but this is my learning blog and as I learn things I like to write about them. So there. Read on, if you like ;)

My sweet sister and I often have conversations about food, weight, and exercise. We are each others moral support in this battle we fight together; the battle to no succumb to what the world deems "pretty," "thin," etc, etc, etc. We don't talk about it all the time, but often enough that I started to wonder if I was right to talk about it so much.

Like normal, I thought about this for a while and have come to my conclusion– you ready?? I think it is right to talk about it as much as we both need to, whenever we need to, for as long as we need to. Why? Because we aren't ever going to get a break from the world passing its judgement on our weight, amount of time exercising, and diet. We need to support each other in what is REAL and what SHOULD be our real priorities.

I've admitted to struggling with my body image growing up. I've also explained the liberation of loving who I am. I am constantly working to maintain that love. It's a love that allows me to not be consumed by my imperfections, helps me focus my attention on others, and helps me to see that I do have good gifts and qualities.

I am becoming more aware of the image that is being driven all around me. It is the lean, flat stomach, size two woman who eats 1,500 calories a day (if that), and is persuaded to follow the newest nutritional push for how to lose "10 pounds a week." Now I may exaggerate and use more descriptors than necessary. I am sure I could have just said "skinny" and you would have had over a dozen pictures pop into your head of women who are advertised and pictured as the "ideal bod." To this I say, "get real!"

Maybe I am just stubborn, but I don't understand why one body type should be the only way we women can feel like we are valuable, attractive, healthy individuals. How unreal is that? Why should my friend whose a natural 10 feel like she's not amazing because she's not a 2? I place a big "unreal!" stamp on that.

Sister Elaine S. Dalton spoke in 2008, her talking being titled, "A Return to Virtue." I quote her now:

"...Lehonti in the Book of Mormon was well positioned on the top of a mountain. He and those he led were “fixed in their minds with a determined resolution” that they would not come down from the mount. It only took the deceitful Amalickiah four tries, each one more bold than the previous, to get Lehonti to “come down off from the mount.” And then having embraced Amalickiah’s false promises, Lehonti was “poison[ed] by degrees” until he died. Not just poisoned, but “by degrees.” Could it be that this may be happening today? Could it be that first we tolerate, then accept, and eventually embrace the vice that surrounds us? Could it be that we have been deceived by false role models and persuasive media messages that cause us to forget our divine identity? Are we too being poisoned by degrees? What could be more deceptive than to entice the youth of this noble generation to do nothing or to be busy ever-texting but never coming to a knowledge of the truths contained in a book that was written for you and your day by prophets of God—the Book of Mormon? What could be more deceptive than to entice women, young and old, you and me, to be so involved in ourselves, our looks, our clothes, our body shape and size that we lose sight of our divine identity and our ability to change the world through our virtuous influence?"

As I listened to Sister Dalton's talk this afternoon, I had to pause and find this quote from her. It beautifully explains everything I have been feeling about body image. It is the enticement of the adversary to get us women to obsess over our bodies through food, exercise, and clothes. It is alarming how successful he has been and is.

We repeatedly see images of women who are very skinny, work outs that promise that sexy trim body, and diets that encourage dropping several pant sizes by the time you're done. Are we being "slowly poisoned by degrees" with all of this? Are we allowing ourselves to stop feeling good about who we are and what we look like because of what we see 'so-and-so' has pinned on pintrest, posted on Facebook, or the magazine we passed in the grocery store? Are we allowing our self-perception to be molded by outside forces that push one objectified, sex-filled image? What poisons do we need to run away from? What is our mountain of safety and reality from the false advertising of narrow minded body image? What and where do we turn to find who we really are and what we are really worth?

In our world that is pushing the message "one size or bust!" I feel my soul clinging to people like my sister; people who are grounded to what is real— who know who they divinely are and who they want to become. I find myself clinging to prayer, the kind words of my husband, and the counsel found in scriptures and conference talks. There are things much more worth my time and energy than being a size 0, 2, or 4, or only eating celery sticks and ice cubes (or some variation of a crazy diet).

I want to be engaged in what really matters most. I want to stand firm and true for the principles that support me in treating my body and spirit the way I should be treating them. I always come back to the fact that my body is the physical shell for my spirit. Through appropriately treating my body I can more appropriate tend to my spirit.

I want to stand high on the mountain top, and refuse to come down only to be poisoned by degrees. I choose to see past the onslaught of lies. I choose to care more about deep beauty than surface beauty. I choose to seek out the good in myself. I have to keep choosing that today, tomorrow, and forever.

I'm grateful for coming across sister Dalton's message today. I think I'll be revisiting it often!

This Mortal Experiment

As a Mormon, I believe that before we came to this world we lived in heaven with our Heavenly Father as His spirit children. I do not doubt that as spirit children we looked to our Father as our example and leader. It makes great sense to me that we determined while we were with Him that we would fight whatever course it was we had to fight on earth in order to return to our Heavenly Father.

I recently read a talk by Elder Neal A. Maxwell, "Premortality, a Glorious Reality." Boy is that man bright! I was enlightened and reminded of the truth of our mortal mission. As of late, I've become, in a way, consumed by the idea of meeting my Maker. I don't plan on dying any time soon, trust me. I have just been thinking about how I'll feel when I'm there. I've been personally asking what I need to do better, how to be a more spiritually in tune person. I've wondered about what I need to do to help my family members be there with me.

The other day, I was feeling exhausted so I sat down on the couch while Will played around me. I hopped on Facebook, and while perusing, the thought came to me, "what are you missing out on because you're looking at Facebook?" That thought has come to me several times, and I finally feel like listening would be a smart idea. I shared this with my dear sister, and the next day she sent me this article, " The Battle in Our Brains."
http://segullah.org/daily-special/the-battle-in-our-brains/
It hit on the head the simple impression I had had (only in more of a scientific way ;)).

In this fast pace, fast changing society we live in, self-discipline of how we spend our time and energy is crucial. I read a quote on pintrest which stated, "If you are too busy to pray or read your scriptures, you are busier than God ever intended you to be." I think choosing to put prayer and scripture study above the other things in our lives is one of the big tests of our mortal experience.

The scientific method is:
Ask a Question
Do Background Research
Construct a Hypothesis
Test Your Hypothesis by Doing an Experiment
Analyze Your Data and Draw a Conclusion
Communicate Your Results

I think mortality is, for many reasons, the ultimate example of the scientific method. All of our mortal lives, we are asking questions, making our hypothesis, testing said hypothesis, analyzing what happened, and then sharing what we learned. The scriptures and lessons from the prophets are chockfull of example after example of how placing God first, praying, studying His word, and living true to commandments and covenants is the ultimate key to happiness. I'm glad that after 23 years of life, I can say I really believe their conclusion.

I am hopeful that as I strive to place the Lord first, He will help me share that message with my family. I hope my kids will see the genuine joy and steadiness in me because of the gospel, and that they will use it as an anchor as they are tested and tried in life. Mortality, though daunting, is a great opportunity to make clear and steady choices. It is our daily choices that will determine how this experiment of mortality turns out. I hope to be found rooted on the right side of things when it's all said and done.

Development

In college I took a women's health class that has made a huge impact on my life. As we studied all about the body, I was amazed by how actually getting pregnant is such a one in a thousand chance, yet it happens often!

Once I was pregnant with William, and even a bit before, I studied up on all the possible things that could happen to a baby: birth defects, spina bifida, cleft lip/pallet, down syndrome, autism, the list goes on and on. I thought to myself then, "wow! It's a wonder that so many babies are born without major defects impacting their lives!"

After William was born, I became obsessed with keeping him healthy, happy, and thriving. I think to myself now, "man! It's a wonder our kids aren't sick all the time! It's a miracle they live to be adults!"

Yet some how women get pregnant, children are born without defects, and they by pass illnesses which allow them to grow up to become healthy adults. Wow!

As I have thought so much about the physical development of my boys, I also think often of their spiritual development.

When I remember all the things I have been exposed to, I often wonder how I am where I am today spiritually. Early on in elementary school I began hearing things that should be saved for adult audiences, and even then very sparingly! I think about my boys and wonder, "Lord, how will they make it?"

I am given courage by the account of the two thousand stripling warriors (found in Alma 53 and on). Here this group of young men were confronted with losing their liberty and freedom as a people. Their fathers had changed their ways so much that they had covenanted with God to never touch their weapons of war ever again. And they hadn't. Their plan was to simply die or allow themselves and their families to be taken captive before they broke their promise to God.

Just as there seemed to be no hope, these valiant young men gathered themselves together. They then entered a covenant that they would protect their land "unto the laying down of their lives" (Alma 53:17). They said that they would, "...fight in all cases to protect the Nephites [their people] and themselves from bondage."

Now, my sons may or may not have to fight a physical battle for their freedoms, but I know they will be daily fighting a spiritual battle for their souls. There will be luring detours on their path of life. There will be an onslaught of distractions, stimulations, and temptations they will face. So how do I arm my boys with the faith these young men had to assemble themselves together and make this choice to defend themselves and their people?

Verses 20 and 21 read, "And they were all young men, and they were exceedingly valiant for courage, and also for strength and activity; but behold, this was not all—they were men who were true at all times in whatsoever thing they were entrusted.
"Yea, they were men of truth and soberness, for they had been taught to keep the commandments of God and to walk up rightly before him."

As a mother, I can do all I can to teach my children truth. This past weekend we were at the park as a family, enjoying watching William giggle down the slides. As we were sending William down one slide, a group of 6th grade (looking) girls and boys caught our attention. The girls were loudly talking about a very inappropriate subject trying to get a rise out of the boys. My blood pressure went up and I thought, "oh my word!!! What are you talking about?! That is not appropriate EVER!" Just as I thought to approach them and tell them their conversation was completely inappropriate, another mother took the reigns and let the girls hear it. I was glad to be off the hook, but my soul was troubled after that.

In my evening prayers I talked to my Heavenly Father about it. Wondering how I can possibly raise successful boys. As I laid down, the thought came to me, "surround them with truth."

I know my boys will make their own choices in life. I know not all of them will be good and that they will have to repent a few hundred thousand times. But I hope they do. I hope they work and work at finding the truth and leaving anything and everything behind them that doesn't add to it. I hope that they can look to my faith as an anchor to them until their personal faith is sufficient to guide them in all things, times, and places. I hope they will be young men of faith, hope, and courage, and can be counted on to be valiant and true in all things- no matter where they are or who they are with.

When I was pregnant with William, a sweet friend of mine from my college soccer team gave me the most helpful, real "pre-motherhood" advice. She told me to qualify for the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. It was simple but dead on. With the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, I can qualify for inspiration on how to best help my children reach their full potential spiritually and physically. I can know exactly how to reach my child to teach them what they need to know. I can be given the words when I have none of my own, and I can be given the direction to protect them from harm neither they nor I can immediately see.

I pray that beyond the influence of Richard and myself, that my boys will have amazing leaders who strengthen them and care for them as they would their own sons, just like Helaman cared for and protected the two thousand stripling warriors (Alma 56:10). I pray that they will have friends who defend them in their faith and moral values, just as the two thousand stripling warriors did (Alma 53:17-18, 20-21). And I hope that they will have the personal conviction to be true at all times because of the many truths they have been taught from their boyhood, just like the two thousand stripling warriors (Alma 56:45, 47-48).

I believe God can make rough stones smooth, and uneven paths even. I believe God cares for all of us. I know He will help us on our course if we have faith to endure. I am grateful for all of the daily small choices I have made in my life to spiritually be where I am today. And I am especially grateful for parents who held to the truth and never stopped trying to help me find it too.

There is work to be done ahead, and many, many prayers to be said. I know that God will lead me as I try to both physically and spiritually protect and prepare my boys for the future.

Stand Ye In Holy Places

I am always amazed at how I am led to things I directly need to hear and learn.

On Saturday I was working on my very, very belated Christmas gift for my parents, and decided to listen to some past General Conference talks while I quietly worked. I tried selecting a few different talks, but they wouldn't play. So I thumbed through the list for a different talk thinking, "I guess those ones aren't what I need to hear." I landed on, "Stand Ye In Holy Places" by Elder Faust. As I listened to the talk, my heart was full of gratitude. I was especially excited as he spoke about the temple, because that night I had plans to attend a session with a few friends from my ward.

I went about my day, attended the temple session- loving every second, and then returned home to my sweet hubby who had sacrificed time with me so I could go out with friends to the best place on earth!

I shared with Richard one of the thoughts I had while in the temple. As I looked around at all the small details of the temple the thought came to me, "God is in the details." Every action we make either increases or diminishes His presence in our lives. It's the details that count: what movie am I going to watch? What language am I going to use? What friends will I hang out with? What clothes am I going to wear? It's the little details that help us see Him.

At church yesterday, it was a full on workout just to keep up with William. I'm not sure why I haven't learned to simply wear flats or wedge heels, but I inevitably end up chasing Will around in my high heels and knee length skirts, trying to not show the world my undercarriage as I go up and down picking up Will, toys, food, etc. I finally gave up and took William to a contained environment: the car. We sat in the car for the last 45 minutes of church.

While sitting there, I thought to myself, "what is the point of this? Why don't I just stay home until he's 18 months and can go to nursery? It would be so much easier." I knew this wasn't really the right thing to do, but the thought sounded pretty convincing in my mind. I said a little prayer then continued waiting for Rich to come out.

Once Rich came out to the car, I exploded like a pressure cooker on him. I told him the thought I had to just stay home. He was a good listener, and said some sort of compassionate understanding sentiment (clearly I was listening well ;)). During a quiet lull on the way home, the words, "stand ye in holy places" came to mind. It was my answer.

Even though there are Sundays where I get little out of church and I am participating in an athletic event in Sunday clothes, it's a holy place to stand. If I were to be anywhere else during that three hour block of time, it wouldn't be the right place, no matter how justified it sounded. The decision to be at church is a little detail that magnifies God in my life. It gets me to refocus and remember that He is the source of my many blessings.

I feel very grateful that God cares enough about me, especially when I am struggling, to send me answers piece by piece. I am grateful that He doesn't leave me wanting, but adequately fills my life with little experiences that testify of His reality and His compassion. I am aware that He knows my imperfections, and am increasingly aware that He is willing to work with me through those exact imperfections. I feel so very blessed to be guided by Him.

My Mormon Faith: Something to Sacrifice For

My little brother, Travis, is currently serving a mission for our church. He's far away in Canada, learning to speak French, and searching for people who desire to know more about Christ and the LDS (Mormon) doctrine. In his letters he tells us about the people he's teaching, the success, and the failures they (he and his teaching companion) experience. He describes the good and a little of the bad (to spare my parent's nerves most likely!) And he shares the testimony he has in God and His work.

I've met many people who are baffled about why we send our young boys (brothers, boyfriends, sons, friends, etc) and young women (who are also sisters, girlfriends, daughters, friends, etc) out to different parts of the world, all with the hope that someone might listen to their message. It seems rather forward if you think about it; Two missionaries knocking on your door to present you with the chance to lean more about Mormonism. But I think it's one of the greatest parts of my religion.

The doctrine of Christ is a message of pure, genuine joy. It is a message that empowers you to act rather than be acted upon, to be apart of a great cause that lifts people to be the best they can be, and it perpetually teaches of forgiveness, repentance, and sanctification. It is a religion that brings such purpose to your life that it is difficult to not want to share it with others. I've felt this way a lot, and I'd like to describe it more.

As I have mentioned before, when I was younger and still discovering my "self identity" I was insanely insecure. I sought popular attention, boyfriends, starvation, and whatever else I could think of to make me look pretty, be popular, and have worth. It never worked. The whole time I was obsessing over those things, I just got worse. They weren't real answers and they weren't helping me be a better person. I think back on all the stupid things I did that hurt people's feelings, and it is more than embarrassing.

When I started to dabble with religion, slowly starting to pray, slowly starting to read my scriptures I began to feel better about myself. I began to see the good qualities I had (even if they weren't perfect), I felt genuinely happy, and I stopped feeling like I needed to put others down to be worth something; I already was.

The gospel of Jesus Christ has empowered me to know my potential. I see the value in putting time and energy into what I learn, the skills I develop, and the people I associate with. I have opportunities to serve people I go to church with, and I play a role in the unity that is felt at church. I play a role in looking after people who might be struggling, I play a role in freely giving back to the Lord, and I play a role in my spiritual progression. It is all things that uplift and edify myself and others.

The programs/ classes we have set up in church are for a very wise purpose. The children attend primary where they are taught by faithful members about God, faith, baptism, repentance, and kindness. The youth are taught in young men's and young women's about those same principles, and additional things like safe dating, the word of wisdom, and the power of the atonement. The men and women are taught in Priesthood and Relief Society the same principles as the children, as well as self-reliance, staying out of debt, service, and our divine roles as men and women. All that is taught is to make a powerful difference in each individual life to help them work to be the best person they can be. It is little wonder why we place such emphasis on our religion being taught and shared by these young missionaries all over the world.

My Mormon faith does require sacrifice. It has excluded me from parties and certain types of friends. It has prevented passion/lust from taking over my relationships. I could keep on writing the list of things it has kept me from doing, but to write about it in a seemingly negative way seems to mock all the good things it has given me; the best being protection. Do you want to know what happened because I didn't party or have sex with whatever boyfriend I "loved"? I have been blessed with the most genuine group of friends this world has to offer. I have been trusted by my peers and adults to tell the truth and to be in good places. I avoided the detrimental emotional roller coaster of giving my self completely to someone who would cherish it only for the physical high it gave them. And have I met and married an incredible man who I now fully invest myself in and who loves me with intensity and purity matched. I say that's more than compensation for the meager sacrifices I made to be in good places with good people doing good things.

There are sacrifices to be made, no matter how young or old LDS members are. We, as Mormons, will continue to be asked to sacrifice the temporary pleasures of today for the everlasting joys of eternity. We will continue to be "different" from those around us as we choose to stand by our faith, but we will forever receive great tender mercies that adequately compensate for the sacrifice of being "different." We have a faith worth sacrificing for. We have a faith worth sharing.

Charity

I came across this quote the other day and can't get it out of my mind, "I consider charity-or 'the pure love of Christ'-to be the opposite of criticism and judging. In speaking of charity, I do not at this moment have in mind the relief of the suffering through the giving of our substance. That, of course, is necessary and proper. Tonight, however, I have in mind the charity that manifests itself when we are tolerant of others and lenient toward their actions, the kind of charity that forgives, the kind of charity that is patient” (“Charity Never Faileth,” general Relief Society meeting, Sept. 25, 2010).

My heart feels full when I read that. This type of charity is so needed. I think of all the times we as humans make mistakes; they're not all done privately. Sadly our shortcomings and imperfect understanding of concepts and situations is displayed to a wide audience of family, friends, colleagues, and peers. It is a beautiful quality to be able to see these shortcomings in ourselves and others and have the charity to forgive them. Think of the unity this provides. Think of the comfort this offers. It is truly magnificent!

Working in Relief Society (women's organization of my church), we rub shoulders with a wide array of sisters. Some we easily agree with, some we easily disagree with. When charity is cultivated- the type that forgives and withholds judgement- we can work together in harmony, and can produce lessons, activities, and service where we feel that we are of one heart and one mind. That is something truly extraordinary!

Popular shows encourage women to be harsh and vulgar with each other, always looking for the shortcoming in the "competition." They show women who have no self control and spread hurtful facts or lies about another woman just to have something to talk about and to make themselves look better. This type of behavior is heart sickening. It removes all class from being a woman and degrades us to being self absorbed brats. When I hear of things like this, I think about how different their lives could be if they practiced the charity mentioned above. If they learned their identity as daughters of God, and then chose to act accordingly; in respect to who thy divinely are, controlling their words and putting their efforts towards the strengthening and building up of the people around them. The world at large could use more role models like that.

Sadly, I don't see these shows going off the air any time soon (shucks!), but what I do see is women of God rising to the call to be a standard for the nations. Women who truly understand their identity, who love their Father in Heaven and Savior, and who beautifully exemplify this love through pure charity towards themselves and all others they associate with. You don't have to know a woman like this super personally to be able to recognize her. She radiates goodness and kindness, and others are drawn to her because of it.

Our days our filled with opportunities to choose. The choice to be more like a daughter of God is consciously made and accomplished as we make the choice to abandon bad behaviors (like talking about the negative stuff in another person) and replacing it with something better (mentioning something they did well, or talking about an event you were apart of). Women of God set themselves apart as unique and different. There are prices to pay but all come with ample compensation.

Today I am choosing charity; the charity that forgives myself and others, the charity that withholds judgement.

Little Answers, Little Moments

I often laugh to myself because, at times I feel like church is a joke these days. Since William learned to crawl he is squirmy and on the go constantly. It's great, most of the time... But church is a three hour marathon of chasing Will and making sure he isn't tearing apart things or distracting people. Which leaves Rich or myself a hot mess (and not the good kind!)

I've thought about this "joke," but surprisingly I haven't ever had the desire to not go. Something about being at church- whether or not I am getting anything special out of the talks/lessons- calls me to be there, and I feel like it is right where I belong. There are small moments where I hear something that hits home and faces that I meet and greet that fill me with renewed sense of purpose and hope. If anything, it reassures me that I really am doing the best I can, and that He understands that.

While helping Richard with his deacons lesson for this past Sunday, I got to look up a bunch of different scriptures on the Godhead. As I read about the roles of the Holy Ghost, I was impressed by how often the scriptures explain it as being a teacher of truth. This made me think about how often I've had little moments where I have been taught by the Holy Ghost. Most of them have been simple- just little things to get me by or broaden my understanding of a certain subject. But they have all been very real and what I personally needed.

As I thought about the Holy Ghost, I realized how grateful I am in my heart that church isn't the only place I can be spiritually taught. I can be taught by the Holy Ghost in my home (cozy in my PJ's!), at the store, while I'm driving, and even while I work out. The places and opportunities are endless.

This Sunday, I so happened to be taught while sitting in Sunday School while Rich wrestled Will in the hall. In my mind I was saying some desperate prayer to the effect, "Heavenly Father, I really would love to be apart of Relief Society today. I could really use being around my sisters and learning today. Would thou be willing to help me? I know you have before." And the simple thought entered my mind, "Some days there are sacrifices to pay." I knew my answer for the day was, "no," but somehow I felt better about it. I did desperately want to be apart of Relief Society, and my Father in Heaven told me He knew that. What a blessing! How wonderful that He cares enough to reply to my heartfelt prayer.

There are so many times where my emotions get the better of me. Where I feel like for every one thing I do right I do 10 wrong. There are moments where I feel so overwhelmed by the tasks at hand, the projects to complete, and the house to clean that my body feels fatigued before the day begins. But the really beautiful thing about feeling that way is that every time I include it in my prayers, I am blessed to see that one good thing, and He cancels out all the other 10 wrong things about the day. I am filled with great peace and a pure sense of joy for the good in my life; joy and peace that I know come from the companionship of the Holy Ghost and a loving Heavenly Father and Savior who said they would make themselves manifest to me through the Spirit.

My problems may be trivial, my questions not very deep but my prayers always matter, and when I ask to be taught I am filled with the Light of His love, the hope of His word, and the beauty of His creations. I am grateful that He can teach me in so many places, not just on Sunday at church.