This morning I was thinking about standing with Freddie. After contracting polio in California, Freddie couldn't stand, being confined to her bed the majority of her life. Freddie moved with her husband into this area from San Diego to be close to her son in residential treatment at Provo Canyon School. Freddie joined the church back in California, graduated with her Master's Degree at Stanford, had a successful career as a speech pathologist, married a man she loved, adopted a child, organized civic events and shared her testimony of Jesus Christ. I was called as her visiting teacher during the last 4 or so months of her life and tagged along with my stellar partner, one of the women in our ward who had been coming to her house for once a week during the last 8 years. After her husband's passing, her neighbors rallied around Freddie enabling her to stay in her home as per her request.
It was important for Freddie to live as independent as possible though she was utterly dependent on others. During these years she served as compassionate service leader in the ward-the one in charge, encouraging others to make their specific needs known, depend on each other, and reach out to serve with LOVE. She was busy, productive, positive and happy-even though she couldn't get out of bed. Her attitude in dealing with adversity could be emulated as she reminded everyone that they too had infirmities requiring attention -hers were just more visible. Her very presence in the neighborhood became of symbol of need, of service, of faith, endurance, of Christlike love. She was our celebrity, our Yoda, the one that was "always there" with her open door, ready and willing to receive a visit and share wisdom. Where was she going to go anyway? But she did finally go and now she is free to stand on her own two legs.
As a woman known for taking charge of every detail of her care, using her God given agency to control everything she could do instead of what she couldn't, Freddie planned out the specifics for her funeral. It fell to me the honor of giving the opening prayer for her funeral, not because I had a special relationship with her or was important in any way; I barely did anything for her and hardly knew her. During our brief time together, I had the privilege of pouring my heart out to her while relating personal troubles, introducing my sons as they sang with their guitars and listened to her life story, and scouring Provo for sugarless popsicles. That's about it. Nevertheless, I stood at the post as one of her visiting teachers. The title "Visiting Teacher" constituted a special relationship of utmost importance to Freddie and she wanted to remind us how important this Visiting Teaching relationship should be for us as well.
Each funeral musical number was also planned by Freddie. I loved hearing the bagpipes play through the parking lot letting me know the funeral was about to begin. I was especially moved when she requested for all the sisters in the congregation to stand and sing together, "As Sisters in Zion." Though we were separated and sprinkled throughout the congregation, yet we were bound together. It was at this moment I felt like I was standing with Freddie, testifying of the importance of standing together as women, as "sisters in Zion" to relieve burdens, build faith in God and strengthen families. It was yet another symbol of all the Relief Society ladies throughout the years teaching me how to serve-how to love. I was overcome and could only look down at the hymnbook and mouth the words as tears streamed down my face and I was filled with a warm, powerful, loving spirit of the Lord.
I rushed from the funeral to a wedding and then to Cedar City to assist my uncle whose wife had just had one of her legs amputated due to her diabetic condition. Her other leg was black from gangrene and may be amputated as well. She continued to exert effort-she used the strength that remained to sit up, to lift her spoon to her mouth, to transfer her weight to the side of her bed. I was privileged to witness my aunt's first attempts with assistance to stand on her remaining leg. Bearing weight...that's what standing really is.
While attending Relief Society in my uncle's ward, I learned more details about the song "As Sisters in Zion" and added 2 more sisters I am privileged to stand with. Janice Kapp Perry, wrote the music along with scores of other primary songs that have touched my heart through the years and built my testimony of the restored gospel. I had a brief stint in her ward and received a meaningful compliment from her regarding a song I wrote using the words of the Relief Society Proclamation. At this time, I also attended a powerful musical fireside where she led us in singing some of my most favorite primary songs. Once again, I stood with the great ones, had tears running down my cheeks and was filled with the spirit.
The words for the song were written by pioneer Emily Hill written during their trek as she and her sister assisted a struggling widow with 5 small children cross the plains. I'm inspired by this woman referring to her experiences with the Martin-Willie handcart company as "child's play" compared with the pain she later felt after being deserted and disgraced by her 1st husband and trying to survive and care for her family's essentials of life. Continuing to have setbacks and struggles, she and her 2nd husband still remained steadfast and full of faith. When referring to her desire for her children to develop that same faith she wrote,"I fervently hope that each and all of them may seek and obtain for themselves a knowledge of the truth (called Mormonism), for I know it can make them wise unto salvation, and may they be willing if needs be tot endure reproach and privation for principle's sake. I doubt not that all my troubles have been for my good, and today I am more than thankful for my standng in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints."
She was thankful for her standing. She stood faithful and true. I am grateful to stand. I am so privileged to stand with these courageous women. They offer encouragement to me to help me stand up even when I can't use my legs. They assist me in standing upright so I can bear the weight. Though separated by time and space-as sisters we really do stand together. Though at times we may be bedridden, our faith in Jesus Christ helps us to hear the Healer's voice beckoning us to "Rise up and stand forth."
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Monday, February 15, 2016
Hold On to Them
This morning I was thinking about a play I watched with my students last month entitled, "Mother Hicks." It was an excellent UVU Noorda Theatre production and I was unexpectedly surprised at our students appropriate theatre behavior. As such, I actually listened to and enjoyed the play set in the era of the Great Depression. There was one scene that particularly moved me to tears. My students were curious about my tears and I made up some lame explanation of why I was crying. I've had a little time to mull it over in my mind and wanted to flesh it out this morning in my blog.
The dialog takes place between the main character and her past foster care parent she finds living as a hobo with his son. She had originally been abandoned because this family could not longer afford to take care of her. She discovers her foster siblings have been pawned off to various families to care for them or work for them. The dialogue ensues, "You had a family but you just threw it all away. " The desolate looking father replies, "I just couldn't hold on to them. " She shoots back, "You could have held on to them." As she walks away and he asks where she is going, she states, "What do you care?"
Perhaps the power of the scene came from identifying closely with the "thrown away" little girl and also the forlorn, trodden down man. I've been working with a handful of students for the past 5 years that have been similarly abandoned- thrown away children with failed adoptions that nobody wants back because they are too dangerous and unstable; or a little girl who was literally thrown in a garbage dumpster; or severely traumatized children taken away by social services with parents who "couldn't hold on" to their own children because of drugs, neglect, or physical or sexual abuse rendering the child's environment unsafe. Yet parent and child yearn for each other, even if it's subconsciously. The child's pain of being discarded-for whatever reason and how it affects their ability to trust and care for others. The parent's despair that they were unable to care for their children and keep them close. It's a desolate scene played out daily in social services.
I probably identified more with the father. As he explained the various locations of his would be family, I thought of my own children-where they are-what they are doing. Who is taking care of them or how they are learning to take care of themselves. Though they are now all technically "adults" learning to take care of themselves, I will always want to care for them in some form or fashion. They are my children I'm desperately trying to "hold on to" not just for this life but throughout the eternities.
I picture clasped hands as a child dangles over a deep abyss-"don't let him fall." How both parent and child desperately seek to "hold on." Don't let go. Not only gravity, but entropy, the gradual decline of order, threatens to tear us apart; separating families forever. Destruction of the family into chaos is ever present. The temple is like a great celestial observatory-not only see what's coming (impending cosmic doom) but to prepare for it with it's opposite-creation and order. The ordinances-to put in order-to seal together families. The temple and the gospel of Jesus Christ give us everything we need to help us "hold on to" our precious families. I don't want my children to walk away shaking their heads and accusing me of "not caring." I care. I'm committed to hold on to them. And though I do not have super-human strength, I have access to someone who does...Jesus Christ. It is his strong arm in whom I can trust to strengthen my resolve to "hold on."
The dialog takes place between the main character and her past foster care parent she finds living as a hobo with his son. She had originally been abandoned because this family could not longer afford to take care of her. She discovers her foster siblings have been pawned off to various families to care for them or work for them. The dialogue ensues, "You had a family but you just threw it all away. " The desolate looking father replies, "I just couldn't hold on to them. " She shoots back, "You could have held on to them." As she walks away and he asks where she is going, she states, "What do you care?"
Perhaps the power of the scene came from identifying closely with the "thrown away" little girl and also the forlorn, trodden down man. I've been working with a handful of students for the past 5 years that have been similarly abandoned- thrown away children with failed adoptions that nobody wants back because they are too dangerous and unstable; or a little girl who was literally thrown in a garbage dumpster; or severely traumatized children taken away by social services with parents who "couldn't hold on" to their own children because of drugs, neglect, or physical or sexual abuse rendering the child's environment unsafe. Yet parent and child yearn for each other, even if it's subconsciously. The child's pain of being discarded-for whatever reason and how it affects their ability to trust and care for others. The parent's despair that they were unable to care for their children and keep them close. It's a desolate scene played out daily in social services.
I probably identified more with the father. As he explained the various locations of his would be family, I thought of my own children-where they are-what they are doing. Who is taking care of them or how they are learning to take care of themselves. Though they are now all technically "adults" learning to take care of themselves, I will always want to care for them in some form or fashion. They are my children I'm desperately trying to "hold on to" not just for this life but throughout the eternities.
I picture clasped hands as a child dangles over a deep abyss-"don't let him fall." How both parent and child desperately seek to "hold on." Don't let go. Not only gravity, but entropy, the gradual decline of order, threatens to tear us apart; separating families forever. Destruction of the family into chaos is ever present. The temple is like a great celestial observatory-not only see what's coming (impending cosmic doom) but to prepare for it with it's opposite-creation and order. The ordinances-to put in order-to seal together families. The temple and the gospel of Jesus Christ give us everything we need to help us "hold on to" our precious families. I don't want my children to walk away shaking their heads and accusing me of "not caring." I care. I'm committed to hold on to them. And though I do not have super-human strength, I have access to someone who does...Jesus Christ. It is his strong arm in whom I can trust to strengthen my resolve to "hold on."
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Having History Together
This morning I was thinking not only about the history of the Provo City Center Temple, but my personal history with this sacred edifice. Though all temples are special-this temple has special meaning to residents of Provo and to me personally. This was the building where I received my university diploma. I have a great graduation picture wearing my black cap and gown, huge smile, set against the backdrop of spectacular stain glassed windows. This was the building where I spent many a 2-hour stake conference encouraging my children to be reverent while stuffing sour patch candies in my mouth A building where I looked down from the balcony after making our way to the available hard benches and saw the prophet, Gordon B. Hinkley who just happened to be in town. This was the building I passed every day for the last 5 years while traveling down University Ave to get to work. I remember the day it was in flames and how heartsick the community was about losing such a treasure. I watched as the workman gutted the destroyed building. Nothing appeared to have survived except the charred brick shell of a once glorious historic building. It looked liked a war zone complete with a bombed out building.
I rejoiced with other members of the church when the prophet, Thomas Monson, announced the church would be using the remains of the Provo Tabernacle to build a new Temple. This would become another one of the Church's "historic" temples. This building site had connections to Brigham Young as he designated the area as a good place to build a meeting house. The original tabernacle was designed by the same architect as the Salt Lake Temple-Truman Angel. After the original tabernacle was torn down, a new tabernacle was built a few blocks from the BYU academy building with funds raised by my first boyfriend's ancestor, Abraham Smoot. (Mark always told me I was so "lucky" to be dating a "Smoot.") The bell from the old tabernacle now resides in front of the Marriot Center-we rang the victory bell quite a lot in the 80's. BYU and the tabernacle had continued association not only for graduations but university leaders used the tabernacle as a public venue to bring the likes of Rachmaninoff, Helen Keller, Robert Frost to name a few.
Being such a historic site, the charred brick walls were braced and put on stilts allowing the construction site to literally become an archaeological dig. As I daily drove by this never ending construction project, I wondered what was going on and why it was taking so long to construct this temple. I knew they were working on the foundation, but I didn't realize they were looking for artifacts under the foundations of both the old and new tabernacle sites. I appreciated the symbolic significance as I was married in the stunning Provo Courthouse overlooking the construction site; one more reference of having "history together" with this would be temple.
So I guess it was no surprise when I walked into the City Center Temple open house and got choked up when one of the volunteers greeted us saying, "Welcome to the Temple" Talk about a makeovers! And this was a makeover of a pioneer friend. The antique replica furnishings and decor, intricate woodwork and beautiful stain glass windows pay homage to earlier pioneer times. As such, they inspire me and build my faith to be like these early pioneer saints; building with faith, one step at a time, one brick at a time. It is glorious. I look forward to doing temple service within those walls.
When gazing at the temple from a nearby restaurant window, I asked my kids to share some of their thoughts. My daughter made the connection between adversity and opportunity. If the tabernacle would have never burnt down, we would never had this temple; now there is beauty from ashes. No matter how burned out or decimated we feel, God helps us re-build, re-store our lives into something glorious. With dedication to the Lord, we can make our own burned down lives-holy. Over each temple is engraved the words, "HOLINESS TO THE LORD." This Provo City Center Temple stands as a beacon of hope; Hope for a glorious resurrection. Hope for a glorious change from ruin to temple. Hope breathing I too can change for the better.
I love my pioneer friend, The Provo City Center Temple. I'm so thankful for having history together.
I rejoiced with other members of the church when the prophet, Thomas Monson, announced the church would be using the remains of the Provo Tabernacle to build a new Temple. This would become another one of the Church's "historic" temples. This building site had connections to Brigham Young as he designated the area as a good place to build a meeting house. The original tabernacle was designed by the same architect as the Salt Lake Temple-Truman Angel. After the original tabernacle was torn down, a new tabernacle was built a few blocks from the BYU academy building with funds raised by my first boyfriend's ancestor, Abraham Smoot. (Mark always told me I was so "lucky" to be dating a "Smoot.") The bell from the old tabernacle now resides in front of the Marriot Center-we rang the victory bell quite a lot in the 80's. BYU and the tabernacle had continued association not only for graduations but university leaders used the tabernacle as a public venue to bring the likes of Rachmaninoff, Helen Keller, Robert Frost to name a few.
Being such a historic site, the charred brick walls were braced and put on stilts allowing the construction site to literally become an archaeological dig. As I daily drove by this never ending construction project, I wondered what was going on and why it was taking so long to construct this temple. I knew they were working on the foundation, but I didn't realize they were looking for artifacts under the foundations of both the old and new tabernacle sites. I appreciated the symbolic significance as I was married in the stunning Provo Courthouse overlooking the construction site; one more reference of having "history together" with this would be temple.
So I guess it was no surprise when I walked into the City Center Temple open house and got choked up when one of the volunteers greeted us saying, "Welcome to the Temple" Talk about a makeovers! And this was a makeover of a pioneer friend. The antique replica furnishings and decor, intricate woodwork and beautiful stain glass windows pay homage to earlier pioneer times. As such, they inspire me and build my faith to be like these early pioneer saints; building with faith, one step at a time, one brick at a time. It is glorious. I look forward to doing temple service within those walls.
When gazing at the temple from a nearby restaurant window, I asked my kids to share some of their thoughts. My daughter made the connection between adversity and opportunity. If the tabernacle would have never burnt down, we would never had this temple; now there is beauty from ashes. No matter how burned out or decimated we feel, God helps us re-build, re-store our lives into something glorious. With dedication to the Lord, we can make our own burned down lives-holy. Over each temple is engraved the words, "HOLINESS TO THE LORD." This Provo City Center Temple stands as a beacon of hope; Hope for a glorious resurrection. Hope for a glorious change from ruin to temple. Hope breathing I too can change for the better.
I love my pioneer friend, The Provo City Center Temple. I'm so thankful for having history together.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Avoidance
This morning I was thinking about avoidance and how good I am at it. As proof, I wrote some sentences about avoidance a couple weeks ago, erased them, and then avoided writing in my blog for the past month. I've been avoiding all sorts of things; phone calls, letters, treasured friends, problems, responsibilities, just about everything. I couple avoidance with some of its other popular companion behaviors such as escapism, hiding, isolating and good old fashioned running away. One of my guilty pleasures is looking for RT jobs in Hawaii or beach cities in So. Cal. In fact, if there is ever a posting for a Recreation Therapist in Laguna Beach-I'm so out of here. So what am I running away from? Why am I so anxious these days? What are my issues? Too many to number.
Perhaps my latest behaviors are a knee jerk reaction to confronting my x-husband on the phone over the holidays. I felt like I drew a line in the sand stating he would not be living with me once he gets out of prison nor will we be connected financially in anyway. I'm sure I'll have to repeat that statement about 1000 times over the next year, but at least I've said it out loud and I think he understood. Over the past 7 years I've accumulated boxes and boxes of his letters and documents-the majority of them unopened. I suppose the letters are proof that someone in the universe still cares and wants me in some form or fashion. But more than that, I'm afraid that if I put an end to that, I may be putting an end to that-no support-you're on your own kid. Good luck with figuring out how to support yourself financially. Good luck with finding love. Lately, I've consigned myself to solidarity as I try to focus on my family, work, and church life. There's plenty to fill my life with meaning and purpose.
Though being a recluse surely isn't healthy, sometimes avoidance has an upside. I don't always have to be grabbing the bull by the horns and tackling every problem and issue. That surely isn't the strategy for all those wishing to "run with the bulls" in Pamplona every year. Instead, "Get Out of the Way" is the smartest move. All sorts of dangers can be avoided by walking away, ignoring, getting out of town, letting things lie, thinking about it tomorrow etc, etc. Fight or flight are both valid alternatives for survival. Flight isn't necessarily the weakling way out or the coward's path. Sometimes it takes great courage to walk away and leave a comfortable situation or walk away from an uncomfortable situation. Sometimes flight is a way of fighting back. Sometimes an aerial view gives heightened perspective. Just ask the birds. Fly away!
As Robert D. Hales, apostle and former air force pilot advises, "Never deliberately fly into a thunderstorm." He spoke of righteous people who "avoid" temptation and evil. "Joseph ran from Potiphar's wife. Lehi took his family and left Jerusalem. Mary and Joseph fled into Egypt to escape Herod's plot. In every instance, Heavenly Father warned these believers. Similarly, He will help us know whether to fight, flee, or go with the flow." Avoidance can be good, especially if it is what God is telling you to do.
My avoidance isn't necessarily divinely directed, but I also want to acknowledge that it's not always a cop out response for dealing with personal stress. It can be a way of purposely diverting energy and attention. Professionally speaking, I believe recreation can be tool to divert attention away from upsetting thoughts and feelings or divert attention back to the task at hand. Learning how to shift one's focus back and forth can build "attention muscles" helping to avoid emotional mine fields. Diverting is a verb related to avoiding and distracting. When done purposefully, it gives me a sense of control as I decide the where, when and how of my attention.
I'm not saying I should continue avoiding everything. There comes a time to sweep the minefield. I have to confront my own demons, or even be responsible enough to log in and look at my bank balance. Confrontation, accountability, honest feedback, problem solving, or just plain facing the music are required. However, avoidance isn't always my enemy; it's an appreciated friend I can embrace-or at least give an occasional side hug.
Perhaps my latest behaviors are a knee jerk reaction to confronting my x-husband on the phone over the holidays. I felt like I drew a line in the sand stating he would not be living with me once he gets out of prison nor will we be connected financially in anyway. I'm sure I'll have to repeat that statement about 1000 times over the next year, but at least I've said it out loud and I think he understood. Over the past 7 years I've accumulated boxes and boxes of his letters and documents-the majority of them unopened. I suppose the letters are proof that someone in the universe still cares and wants me in some form or fashion. But more than that, I'm afraid that if I put an end to that, I may be putting an end to that-no support-you're on your own kid. Good luck with figuring out how to support yourself financially. Good luck with finding love. Lately, I've consigned myself to solidarity as I try to focus on my family, work, and church life. There's plenty to fill my life with meaning and purpose.
Though being a recluse surely isn't healthy, sometimes avoidance has an upside. I don't always have to be grabbing the bull by the horns and tackling every problem and issue. That surely isn't the strategy for all those wishing to "run with the bulls" in Pamplona every year. Instead, "Get Out of the Way" is the smartest move. All sorts of dangers can be avoided by walking away, ignoring, getting out of town, letting things lie, thinking about it tomorrow etc, etc. Fight or flight are both valid alternatives for survival. Flight isn't necessarily the weakling way out or the coward's path. Sometimes it takes great courage to walk away and leave a comfortable situation or walk away from an uncomfortable situation. Sometimes flight is a way of fighting back. Sometimes an aerial view gives heightened perspective. Just ask the birds. Fly away!
As Robert D. Hales, apostle and former air force pilot advises, "Never deliberately fly into a thunderstorm." He spoke of righteous people who "avoid" temptation and evil. "Joseph ran from Potiphar's wife. Lehi took his family and left Jerusalem. Mary and Joseph fled into Egypt to escape Herod's plot. In every instance, Heavenly Father warned these believers. Similarly, He will help us know whether to fight, flee, or go with the flow." Avoidance can be good, especially if it is what God is telling you to do.
My avoidance isn't necessarily divinely directed, but I also want to acknowledge that it's not always a cop out response for dealing with personal stress. It can be a way of purposely diverting energy and attention. Professionally speaking, I believe recreation can be tool to divert attention away from upsetting thoughts and feelings or divert attention back to the task at hand. Learning how to shift one's focus back and forth can build "attention muscles" helping to avoid emotional mine fields. Diverting is a verb related to avoiding and distracting. When done purposefully, it gives me a sense of control as I decide the where, when and how of my attention.
I'm not saying I should continue avoiding everything. There comes a time to sweep the minefield. I have to confront my own demons, or even be responsible enough to log in and look at my bank balance. Confrontation, accountability, honest feedback, problem solving, or just plain facing the music are required. However, avoidance isn't always my enemy; it's an appreciated friend I can embrace-or at least give an occasional side hug.
Friday, December 25, 2015
Enabling Yellow Tandem Bike
This morning I was thinking about my family gift this Christmas-a yellow tandem bike standing as a symbol of enabling power. I'm trying to give a positive "spin" on my ever constant criticism of enabling others-perpetuating problems instead of solving them. Through the years, my helping sometimes does more harm than good. At times I've rescued others when they need to feel the entire weight of their choices and face the consequences motivating them to change. I've fostered irresponsible behaviors resulting in weakness rather than strength. I need to do things differently. At times it's like I've been driving the tandem bike and letting others rest their feet on the peddles while throwing their hands up in the air shouting, "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee- this is fun! Look no hands-I'm riding a bike! Go faster!"
A bicycle under the tree just screams awesome Christmas, at least it did for me as a child growing up in the Long Beach-that is until bikes were stolen. I think I had about 4 bikes lifted-one even from my own backyard. In defiance or stupidity, I currently park my son's beater beach cruiser in front of my condo-perhaps just to test the would be thieves in Provo, Utah or maybe just because I can. It feels good to see the bike there to greet me when I come home from work. As part of my Christmas present this year, this used (a little dented) tandem bike will eventually be parked in front-as a happy decoration. Granted it's a little nicer than cruiser, but I think no one will take it for good. I'm going to laminate a sign and attach it to the handle bars, "Borrow Me! Ride me around then return me so others can enjoy!" If the bright yellow tandem is stolen quickly, then I'll just rack it up as a neighborhood donation-brightening someone's day. Maybe they needed it more than I did. I don't think my kids are going to use it too much anyway. It's just a visual aide for the real present-my continued commitment to help and strengthen them throughout their life. Rather than enabling them, I need to help them be strong-help them develop the muscles to do things independently so they can get where they want to go.
One thing is certain, you can't drive a tandem bike from the passenger position on a tandem bike. Pedal power and fixed handle bars won't do the trick. Limited steering capability and awkward balance requirements make it nearly impossible-unless all you have in mind is falling over and crashing. Help from a trusted driver is necessary to get where you want to go. It takes two baby! And if you venture out on a tandem alone, driving in the front-you just look stupid. The bike isn't designed that way. You're hauling around a lot more weight than you need to- a definite waste of resource. Besides that, it's no fun.
I also want this Christmas Tandem Bike to remind my children about the Master Enabler and being willing to get on the bike with him. Though I want to encourage independence and responsibility, I also want to encourage dependence on the Lord. Wonderful strengthening help is available. Elder Bednar teaches about the enabling power of the atonement. "Grace is frequently is used in the scriptures to connote a strengthening or enabling power. 'The main idea of the word is divine means of help or strength, given through the bounteous mercy and love of Jesus Christ. It is likewise through the grace of the Lord that individuals, through faith in the atonement of Jesus Christ and repentance of their sins, receive strength and assistance to do good works that they otherwise would not be able to maintain if left to their own means' Thus, the enabling and strengthening aspect of the Atonement helps us to see and to do and to become good in ways that we could never recognize or accomplish with our limited mortal capacity."
It is fun to ride through life in tandem with God's help. We can trust him. He won't let us fall. We weren't meant to travel alone- we're not designed or built that way. Sure we can try it but this kind of independent, self sustaining wisdom is foolishness. Besides, it's completely unnecessary to go at it all alone-a definite waste of resource. You have a yellow tandem bike man-use it! Everybody use it!
A bicycle under the tree just screams awesome Christmas, at least it did for me as a child growing up in the Long Beach-that is until bikes were stolen. I think I had about 4 bikes lifted-one even from my own backyard. In defiance or stupidity, I currently park my son's beater beach cruiser in front of my condo-perhaps just to test the would be thieves in Provo, Utah or maybe just because I can. It feels good to see the bike there to greet me when I come home from work. As part of my Christmas present this year, this used (a little dented) tandem bike will eventually be parked in front-as a happy decoration. Granted it's a little nicer than cruiser, but I think no one will take it for good. I'm going to laminate a sign and attach it to the handle bars, "Borrow Me! Ride me around then return me so others can enjoy!" If the bright yellow tandem is stolen quickly, then I'll just rack it up as a neighborhood donation-brightening someone's day. Maybe they needed it more than I did. I don't think my kids are going to use it too much anyway. It's just a visual aide for the real present-my continued commitment to help and strengthen them throughout their life. Rather than enabling them, I need to help them be strong-help them develop the muscles to do things independently so they can get where they want to go.
One thing is certain, you can't drive a tandem bike from the passenger position on a tandem bike. Pedal power and fixed handle bars won't do the trick. Limited steering capability and awkward balance requirements make it nearly impossible-unless all you have in mind is falling over and crashing. Help from a trusted driver is necessary to get where you want to go. It takes two baby! And if you venture out on a tandem alone, driving in the front-you just look stupid. The bike isn't designed that way. You're hauling around a lot more weight than you need to- a definite waste of resource. Besides that, it's no fun.
I also want this Christmas Tandem Bike to remind my children about the Master Enabler and being willing to get on the bike with him. Though I want to encourage independence and responsibility, I also want to encourage dependence on the Lord. Wonderful strengthening help is available. Elder Bednar teaches about the enabling power of the atonement. "Grace is frequently is used in the scriptures to connote a strengthening or enabling power. 'The main idea of the word is divine means of help or strength, given through the bounteous mercy and love of Jesus Christ. It is likewise through the grace of the Lord that individuals, through faith in the atonement of Jesus Christ and repentance of their sins, receive strength and assistance to do good works that they otherwise would not be able to maintain if left to their own means' Thus, the enabling and strengthening aspect of the Atonement helps us to see and to do and to become good in ways that we could never recognize or accomplish with our limited mortal capacity."
It is fun to ride through life in tandem with God's help. We can trust him. He won't let us fall. We weren't meant to travel alone- we're not designed or built that way. Sure we can try it but this kind of independent, self sustaining wisdom is foolishness. Besides, it's completely unnecessary to go at it all alone-a definite waste of resource. You have a yellow tandem bike man-use it! Everybody use it!
Monday, December 14, 2015
Crushing Weight of Judgment
This morning I was thinking about the weight of judgment and how heavy it sometimes rests on my heart. Sometimes it's connected with someone's opinion of my choices, my value, even my own worth. It is a concern or even anxiety over what other people think of me. Recently I avoided a conversation with someone because I didn't want to hear judgements about me or my family. Why would I purposely place myself in a situation to listen to the judgements of others? However, I found my fear of judgment was replaced by love- love for this stranger and her family and increased love for my own family. I related to her how I recently told my son that I didn't care what she thought about him- rather I cared more about his own judgements. And I do! How proud I am of the progress he continues to make, separating his sense of worth from behaviors and showing genuine love and care for himself and others. It is a beautiful thing. Yet I know it's hard, even crushing, when someone doesn't think highly of me-doesn't accept me-doesn't think I am a good person-doesn't esteem me to be worthy of their association. It's easy to go on the defensive and try to do something to protect myself and my family-to protect our hearts from judgement so they won'd get crushed from judgement.
Several years ago, we lived in what I referred to as the "fishbowl" house. All the neighbors had a 360 degree view of our house. If there was something ugly strewn across our property, there was no backyard or high fence to shield it from the view of surrounding neighbors. It was all out in the open, for everyone to see-to judge-to complain about. As a result of this "trauma" when I take neighborhood walks sometimes I like to judge a family by the quality of their landscaping. It's wickedly fun to be highly critical and superficial. I did it just the other day when I was out driving looking at neighborhood Christmas lights and judging Christmas spirit while avoiding said phone call. (By the way, I don't have a lawn to care for anymore and I didn't put up any Christmas lights.) Anyway...while living in the fishbowl house, my husband and I made up a family motto that went something like this: "Screw You! I don't care what anyone thinks. Love is the most important thing!" I don't think I would cross stitch the first part but it made the point. We wanted our children to care more about what God thinks about them- not what the neighbors thought of our family...and God thinks we are WONDERFUL.
As I interact with others, I try to make them feel wonderful-no matter what. Even though I may have some harsh judgements regarding their behaviors, I want them to feel empowered to make necessary changes. Most people already know what they need to do differently. I feel like there is credence to the saying, "When you criticize, the spirit comforts; when you love the spirit condemns." Yet, I cannot avoid judgement. Though people hate being judged-we all do it. Judgement and mercy stand together. No matter how nonjudgmental I try to be, I have to judge. Judgement is a verb as well as a noun.
Judging between good and evil, between right and wrong is a core function of my brain. I exercise judgement every time I make a decision. It is a mental weighing with the great scales of justice-should I do this, or should I do that? What is the right what is wrong? What will be of most worth to me and my family? People who don't weigh the impact of their choices are often seen as impulsive or reactive. I know Eve didn't just look at the forbidden fruit and gobble it down. She thought. She weighed the impact of her possible choice. She judged. And ultimately that choice opened up a whole world for all of us as we seek to gain knowledge of good and evil, truth and error. Adam and Eve's choice made it possible for us to weigh things out for ourselves-to balance the scales-to make "deliberate" choices filled with purpose and intent- to deliberate! This is the judgement I'm concerned with. We get to judge every waking moment. Though not all choices have such an overarching impact, I'm thankful for the ability to weigh my choices. Instead of avoiding judgement, I want to embrace it and appreciate the great weight of thinking before I act; to actually care about what I think-or giving care to what I think. Judgement will help me decide if a choice is worth making. This great weighing on the scales of judgment will help me get my money's worth with my time on this earth. When it comes to exercising sound judgment- we can crush it!
Several years ago, we lived in what I referred to as the "fishbowl" house. All the neighbors had a 360 degree view of our house. If there was something ugly strewn across our property, there was no backyard or high fence to shield it from the view of surrounding neighbors. It was all out in the open, for everyone to see-to judge-to complain about. As a result of this "trauma" when I take neighborhood walks sometimes I like to judge a family by the quality of their landscaping. It's wickedly fun to be highly critical and superficial. I did it just the other day when I was out driving looking at neighborhood Christmas lights and judging Christmas spirit while avoiding said phone call. (By the way, I don't have a lawn to care for anymore and I didn't put up any Christmas lights.) Anyway...while living in the fishbowl house, my husband and I made up a family motto that went something like this: "Screw You! I don't care what anyone thinks. Love is the most important thing!" I don't think I would cross stitch the first part but it made the point. We wanted our children to care more about what God thinks about them- not what the neighbors thought of our family...and God thinks we are WONDERFUL.
As I interact with others, I try to make them feel wonderful-no matter what. Even though I may have some harsh judgements regarding their behaviors, I want them to feel empowered to make necessary changes. Most people already know what they need to do differently. I feel like there is credence to the saying, "When you criticize, the spirit comforts; when you love the spirit condemns." Yet, I cannot avoid judgement. Though people hate being judged-we all do it. Judgement and mercy stand together. No matter how nonjudgmental I try to be, I have to judge. Judgement is a verb as well as a noun.
Judging between good and evil, between right and wrong is a core function of my brain. I exercise judgement every time I make a decision. It is a mental weighing with the great scales of justice-should I do this, or should I do that? What is the right what is wrong? What will be of most worth to me and my family? People who don't weigh the impact of their choices are often seen as impulsive or reactive. I know Eve didn't just look at the forbidden fruit and gobble it down. She thought. She weighed the impact of her possible choice. She judged. And ultimately that choice opened up a whole world for all of us as we seek to gain knowledge of good and evil, truth and error. Adam and Eve's choice made it possible for us to weigh things out for ourselves-to balance the scales-to make "deliberate" choices filled with purpose and intent- to deliberate! This is the judgement I'm concerned with. We get to judge every waking moment. Though not all choices have such an overarching impact, I'm thankful for the ability to weigh my choices. Instead of avoiding judgement, I want to embrace it and appreciate the great weight of thinking before I act; to actually care about what I think-or giving care to what I think. Judgement will help me decide if a choice is worth making. This great weighing on the scales of judgment will help me get my money's worth with my time on this earth. When it comes to exercising sound judgment- we can crush it!
Saturday, December 5, 2015
Random Shiz
This morning I was thinking about all the random shiz I bought last week for my children. I say "random" because everything I purchased is nothing they asked for or even want. I think they are good gifts. I have dubbed this Christmas the year of "random shiz"; this is the way it will be this year. My baby son (19) doesn't believe me. He says I say every year how I don't have any money and how it will be a horrible Christmas- but it never is; somehow I'm able to get each child something they really want or something they really need. As a parent, it's what I strive for-that Christmas morning reaction when a child's face lights up because they got the present they wanted. Another family tradition is placing a gift under the tree with a baby Jesus figurine to symbolize the gift we all really want-the gift we really need-given from a loving Heavenly Father. I'm sure I'll place the baby Jesus under the tree again but the awesome eye popping, heart thumping, "perfect" Christmas gift will not be there. Not this year.
I'm really not trying to be heartless or inconsiderate. It's just that I've already spent Christmas on bills-a monthly payment for my daughter's wedding and a bounced tithing check back in April (I have to make good on that for tithing settlement.) The money is gone. I guess I don't want to be left empty handed on the most heralded day of giving-Christmas Day; so I bought a bunch of cheap crap and a big family gift to put under the tree. I will be assigning symbolic meaning to the gifts that may increase their value- my children are use to that. It's what I CAN do. Gifts are fun! For the first time in my mommy life, I'm completely done shopping for my children and it's only December 5th. Awesome! It will be great and hopefully a Christmas to remember-even if they just remember it as the Christmas of random shiz raining down on them.
Last week while substituting as primary chorister, I wanted to emphasize the concept of God's good gifts raining down on all of us, each and everyday. I used fall leaves like confetti and had the children gather them up while we were singing. In preparation, I gathered my own fall leaves on Thanksgiving morning and stuffed them in a large garbage sack. During singing time, I slung the bag over my shoulder to remind them of Santa Claus and his bag of gifts. I really do think there is a powerful connection between the gathering leaves of Thanksgiving and the freely given gifts of Christmas.
I'm not much into raking leaves or shoveling snow; it is one of the perks of lazy condo life. I remember my days of endlessly raking up leaves from the largest, messiest tree on Brookshire Circle (the city eventually cut it down) It was no fun and required many hours of hard work. Gathering leaves, or noticing the good in ourselves, in others, in the world around us also requires an expenditure of effort. It takes time to notice, write down, and thank God for these blessings each day. However, the more I do it, the more abundant I feel- to the point of seeing leaves rain down on a windy fall day and thinking of God's blessing being given in similar fashion. Beautiful falling leaves are inspiring. It is like the words of an obscure primary song, "Autumn Day, Autumn Day. God gives richest gifts today. Look on every side and see-pleasant things for you and me."
His gifts really do rain down and in many cases go unnoticed, unappreciated, devalued, or thrown out in the garbage in a big leaf bag. Who wants a leaf? That's so random. It's not what I asked for. Didn't you get my wish list? My prayers seem unanswered. Yet, if I look around and see his daily good gifts, I may find in all my random blessings an answer to a prayer-a blessing that I really need-maybe even something I really want. Afterall sometimes I don't even know what I really want or need. His daily gifts might not get that Christmas light up reaction in my face, but he keeps sending them my way-hoping I'll notice his "richest gifts." I know they key to Christmas this year, is increasing my gratitude and love for what he has already given. His gift that truly did come down from Heaven, "God so loved the world-that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life." Though many of God's children do not notice, accept, or value this sentiment, I do not want to view this gift of all gifts as "random shiz."
I'm really not trying to be heartless or inconsiderate. It's just that I've already spent Christmas on bills-a monthly payment for my daughter's wedding and a bounced tithing check back in April (I have to make good on that for tithing settlement.) The money is gone. I guess I don't want to be left empty handed on the most heralded day of giving-Christmas Day; so I bought a bunch of cheap crap and a big family gift to put under the tree. I will be assigning symbolic meaning to the gifts that may increase their value- my children are use to that. It's what I CAN do. Gifts are fun! For the first time in my mommy life, I'm completely done shopping for my children and it's only December 5th. Awesome! It will be great and hopefully a Christmas to remember-even if they just remember it as the Christmas of random shiz raining down on them.
Last week while substituting as primary chorister, I wanted to emphasize the concept of God's good gifts raining down on all of us, each and everyday. I used fall leaves like confetti and had the children gather them up while we were singing. In preparation, I gathered my own fall leaves on Thanksgiving morning and stuffed them in a large garbage sack. During singing time, I slung the bag over my shoulder to remind them of Santa Claus and his bag of gifts. I really do think there is a powerful connection between the gathering leaves of Thanksgiving and the freely given gifts of Christmas.
I'm not much into raking leaves or shoveling snow; it is one of the perks of lazy condo life. I remember my days of endlessly raking up leaves from the largest, messiest tree on Brookshire Circle (the city eventually cut it down) It was no fun and required many hours of hard work. Gathering leaves, or noticing the good in ourselves, in others, in the world around us also requires an expenditure of effort. It takes time to notice, write down, and thank God for these blessings each day. However, the more I do it, the more abundant I feel- to the point of seeing leaves rain down on a windy fall day and thinking of God's blessing being given in similar fashion. Beautiful falling leaves are inspiring. It is like the words of an obscure primary song, "Autumn Day, Autumn Day. God gives richest gifts today. Look on every side and see-pleasant things for you and me."
His gifts really do rain down and in many cases go unnoticed, unappreciated, devalued, or thrown out in the garbage in a big leaf bag. Who wants a leaf? That's so random. It's not what I asked for. Didn't you get my wish list? My prayers seem unanswered. Yet, if I look around and see his daily good gifts, I may find in all my random blessings an answer to a prayer-a blessing that I really need-maybe even something I really want. Afterall sometimes I don't even know what I really want or need. His daily gifts might not get that Christmas light up reaction in my face, but he keeps sending them my way-hoping I'll notice his "richest gifts." I know they key to Christmas this year, is increasing my gratitude and love for what he has already given. His gift that truly did come down from Heaven, "God so loved the world-that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life." Though many of God's children do not notice, accept, or value this sentiment, I do not want to view this gift of all gifts as "random shiz."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)