Sealing/Bonding/Binding-The Good Stuff!

 This morning I was thinking about the authority and efficacy of sealing prayers for specific priesthood ordinances in the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Though I am not a temple sealer, as a current ordinance worker in the temple, I have been given some authority to seal when doing initiatory ordinances.  It is a significant power and a privilege to pronounce sacred blessings.  Extraordinary words indeed.

Some of the more obvious, outward expressions of joy come from brides and their wedding parties.  Oh, the excitement of young couples coming to the temple to be sealed together for time and all eternity!  It is also a beautiful sight to see young children dressed in white to surround the temple altars to be sealed to their parents.  Both of these happy sights reinforce the wonderous doctrine of the restored church, "Families Can Be Together Forever".  How wonderful!

Of course, it causes pain as well.  Especially considering my personal circumstances.  Like all of us, I want the good stuff too and don't want to miss out on blessings. However, through the years, I've noticed these great promises related to sealed families are providing more hope than pain.

One of my most favorite parts about being an ordinance worker is the prayer meeting to start the 4-hour shift.  I feel like I'm at General Conference being addressed by the most incredible speakers. Yesterday,  in the message from our temple matron, she made reference to how ordinances and covenants bind us to Christ.  It got me thinking about the word "bind".  Surely it's related to the word "bond." 

One of the first tasks of a newborn and its mother is to bond, especially after the cord has been cut.  Throughout the life of a family, people spend enormous amounts of time, energy, and resource for family bonding. We want to be close and connected throughout our life to our loved ones.  These connections often come with strings attached or "expectations."  These expectations can feel binding at times, even restrictive and perhaps a little judgmental.   But we continue to show up and try to meet the expectations because we love our families and want to be with them.  Even if that hoop is on fire, I'm going to jump through it, especially if I think it will help.  And if we say we're going to help, we want our word to be our bond.  They can count on us to "be there."  Bonding and binding are key to a lasting connection.  

Bonding also has reference to the term "sealing."  Whatever the contract, the covenant, I want ut to stick or hold up under pressure- to be efficacious- to actually work.  Trusting in promises requires it.  Magic words are only magic if the desired result is achieved.  If not, I'm just playing pretend with a toy wand and fooling even myself.  But how much power do words really have when it comes to families being together forever?  Sealing power is required along with faithfulness to the covenant being made.   

I'm so grateful sealing power has been restored through the prophet Elijah to truly turn the hearts of the children to their fathers and fathers to their children.  It is a curse to be separated.  It is a waste to be left desolate without root or branch. The destructive forces that tear families apart are devasting to the hearts of men, women, and children.  But what of my heavenly family?  What about my brother, Jesus Christ.  My Heavenly Father?  How do I bond with them? 

The joy I see in the temple each week from earthly families united through sealings is a symbol of the ever inclusive promised celestial union and reunion with our premortal nuclear family.  How happy our Father is when we make an effort to bind ourselves to him.   What pain he must feel when his children don't want to be connected to him for whatever reason.  

Jesus offers love and  acceptance beyond compare. He sees our heart.  He know us perfectly.  He is a merciful judge. The required expectation for a potentially joyful heavenly reunion with Him and our siblings?  Exercising faith in his son, Jesus Christ.  Being faithful to our covenants not only binds us to him but also nurtures our bond with him and shows God we want to be with him too!  We love him too! It's the good stuff for all!

Bohemian Love

This morning I was thinking about love and being ministered to personally by my family while staying in their homes.  As part of my commuter strategy for my new job, I often stay mid week at one of the houses of my relatives- daughters, son, and aunt.  This way, I'm hoping to tread lightly in their personal space and not burn anyone out from continually giving me shelter.  I could commute each day back to Provo, but right now, I don't want to.  It's been most helpful giving additional time to explore Salt Lake and familiarize myself with its' various recreational resources available for my clients.  I am growing to appreciate Salt Lake more as I focus on all the good this fine state has to offer.

 But more than the wealth of natural, cultural, and recreational resources, family members are my greatest resource. Spending time with them individually is a priceless opportunity to be in their presence.  They serve and support me in the most wonderful ways.  It's a new stage in my life as I travel with my carry-on luggage (my knapsack on my back) singing "I am a happy wanderer" while couch surfing with relatives- even though most of the time, I'm in a series of very comfortable beds.

  I bought a brightly colored, bohemian looking bedroll for $7 that's bringing me a lot of joy these days-mostly for the current lifestyle it symbolizes.  It reminds me of my old 70s looking children's sleeping bag with it' brightly colored flowers and print reading, "Blondes are fun, Redheads are for real, and Brunettes are groovy."   Sleeping in the homes of family members truly is "groovy" and these days I'm feeling the love in each one of my temporary living situations.  

My son's house is the most Bohemian in the classic definition of the word, "a socially unconventional person, especially one who is involved in the arts."  His home is so full of life-literally.  He is surrounded by his animal family of dogs and cats as well as the temporary animal tenants from the doggy day care service he supports. These animals are receiving attentive, loving care.  His home is also full of original music, writing and art.  He is continually creating.   He is an amazing one man band. Each nook and cranny tells a story. This rental home will eventually be torn down by the owner to make room for a multi-plex, but in the meantime, it is being filled with life, love, and art.  It is beautiful in an unconventional way.  

 I recently paid for some health services for my son in exchange for massages.  Though he is not a certified massage therapist, in my books he is.  It is precious currency and this energy work takes a lot out of him.  He has to be in a certain frame of mind and sometimes he's just doesn't have the energy.  It is an energy transfer and it is difficult for him to put himself in that situation to take on the pains of someone else when he is already dealing with his own pain.  

So I understood when this week, he said he wasn't really up for a massage.  However, later he stated he could give me 30 minutes.  I am grateful for whatever he can give as I make my way to the massage table.  I've had several professional massages.  They are great but there is something unique about having my son serve me in this fashion; It is truly an unselfish act.  It is an act of love. It is artistic expression.    

He took more than 30 minutes as his massage choreography was perfectly synced to his musical playlist.  He didn't rush through it, put minimal effort into it or do it in a "I have to get this over with" type of attitude.  I am much more selfish and weak when I give massages.  I suck.   He was totally present and considerate.  It fired off so many of my love languages:  acts of service, quality time, touch, and gifts.  For me, it was as tangible as any gift.  It was what he had to offer, and he offered his all, even though he was already emotionally depleted.    I was spiritually touched by his loving ministration to the needs of his mother.  His service was sacred to me.  

It was also symbolic of the loving service I am receiving from so many different hands from other family members.  They are also giving me what they can give. They are personally attending to my individual needs.  It is so much!  I am overwhelmed with their generosity.  I so appreciate each kind act and consideration for my person.  It is a beautiful thing to behold.  It really is a "groovy kind of Bohemian love."   Thank you family! 

My Wonderful Extended Family

 This morning I was thinking about my family.  My nephew's son, Sean Patrick O'Malley (age 16) achieved a perfect score on his SAT exam. As a consequence, Harvard university reached out to him and told him they were interested in his success.  I've told people I know, and people I don't really know about his success.  I'm am not only proud of Sean Patrick, but I take pride in his accomplishments-I own them in part, for he is family and I am part of this great extended O'Malley family.

   When family members make good choices, I rejoice. When good things happen to them, I feel happy.  When they feel happy,   I feel happy with them.   When they make poor choices, I mourn.  When bad things happen, I mourn.  I feel hurt with them.  Their success, is my success.  Their pain is my pain. The stronger the connection, the more I really feel these emotions with them.  The more I am connected to the person, the more I am able to rejoice or mourn.  The more I am connected, the more I care.   The end game is empathy.  It's all about connection.  Or as Brene Brown put it, "Empathy fuels connection."  I believe that. Not saying I always get it right.  At times I stumble in my communication with my loved ones resulting in a major disconnect.  However, I keep trying to increase my empathetic responses. I have lots of good examples to follow.

One powerful example of a connected empathetic family is the Porras Clan.  My daughter married into a wonderful big Mexican family.  Under the direction of their patriarch and matriarch, Alfonso and Alejandra Porras, they get together often to share their lives and care about one another.  They just recently went an amusement park with all the families.  Throughout the year they celebrate and recreate together.  Their large extended family gets together for every birthday complete with large inflatables, amazing food  and homemade piñatas.  I think Alejandra has made over 70 of these masterpieces-one for each child and grandchild over the past 10 years.  Each piñata takes several days to make.  The siblings work together at their father's candy factory.  They also get together to work out at a gym most mornings to support each other with their health goals.  The family all showed up to cheer on Alfonso when he ran his marathon.  All the cousins play soccer together. I could go on an on-and that is not even mentioning the constant stream of everyday service these family members do for each other from cleaning, cooking, babysitting, moving, and financial and emotional support.

  It is absolutely wonderful that my grandchildren are growing up in an extended family.  They love their cousins like brothers.  Each auntie and uncle look after each other's children.  They care about their welfare, sincerely. They spend so much time together that they truly know each others hearts and minds.  It is a family knit together in unity and love.  It is a most valuable social resource.

Extended families who barely get together cannot expect to achieve these results.  Extended families members who refuse to show up will also miss out on the potential of social support as well.  Sometimes infrequent gatherings result in interactions characterized by awkwardness, misunderstandings, competition, comparing, judgment, guilt and shame. In the fervent desire to connect, people stumble and fall, stumble and fail, stumble and disconnect.  I have been in such environments but I have also been in social environments that felt like one big happy Mexican extended family.  Organized religion, or church is one such example in my life.  I can honestly say, I have felt connected to each ward family I have been a member of.  It has truly been one of the most glorious social and spiritual resources in my life.  

One of the reasons I have been going up to Salt Lake so much during the past few months is to help my daughter and her family access valuable resources in her new community including their church. In a perfect world, her new ward, The Butler 3rd ward, can function much like her wonderful Mexican family.  The potential is there for a extended church family.  I just don't think you can have too many people to care about and who in turn can care about you.  Like the aunties looking out for each other's children, the primary leaders and teachers can come to know and love my grandbabies and care for their welfare.  Relative strangers can become spiritual relatives loved as real brothers and sisters. Relief Society and serving others, can give opportunities for my daughter to share her heart and mind and feel truly understood. 

Social support through organized religion in general, is an amazing force throughout the world.  Spirituality can be individual, but fellowship happens in groups-groups of people that many times end up feeling like a family knit together in unity and love.  We can own each others joys and sorrows, successes and failures through empathetic connection.  Ideally, with this connection, we can do something about it to support one another throughout our lives in our big wonderful extended global family.   

 

Have You Tried Your Very Best?

 Recently I had the question posed to me, "Have you tried your very best?"  It was in regards to my marriage. It triggered a series negative emotions, unkind thoughts as well as knee jerk defensive reactions.  It brought to mind a series of questions including, "Have you tried you very best as a woman?  Have you tried your very best as a mom?  Have you tried your very best in the workplace?  Have you tried your very best regarding gospel living?  

It was followed by a comment about the importance of truthfully responding- calling into question my integrity.  Though I had taken offense, the whole experience highlighted one of my core issues of being enough or doing "all I can do" to be acceptable.  This dis-ease comes from being judged and finding myself lacking in one or many areas.  It also alludes to the most important future moment of the final judgement.  How I don't want to be found missing the mark, not being enough, not having done enough, not having really "done my best."  Can't I always do more?  Can't I always be a little better? It's not even really about perfectionism, it's more about giving a quantitative or qualitative rendering of "my best efforts."  

Though this question has lingered in my mind for many years, I remember a sentinel moment where I felt like my question had truly been answered.  It was a giant "AHA" moment combined with an electric confirmation of its' veracity.   It was at a singles conference, of all places.  I actually really liked the EFY sensibility of all the workshops for the older crowd.  I don't know if I've written about this before. If so, I think it's worth repeating.

During the brief talk, the speaker (I can't even remember his name) referenced a scripture, "2 Nephi 25:23: “For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.” 

He provided insight into the phrase " all we can do."  Instead of emphasizing the unlimited "all" word, the emphasis was on the "we can do"-almost suggesting a limiting quality or finite, sub par performance. He helped me understand that Christ provides the 100% best effort through his atonement.  It's NOT a math equation where I try my best and do 10% and he makes up the difference.  He is the difference.  He makes all the difference.  Doing what "I can do" by exercising faith in his infinite, unlimited atonement enables me to access his complete 100% grace in spite of my limited version of doing my best. 

I will never be enough, but with faith in Him, Jesus Christ, that is completely okay.  He is my judge.  He truly knows the desires of my heart and my sincere efforts to exercise faith in him.  I rely on his judgement.  If there is room for improvement or redirecting my energy, I want to increase my faith, even strive for a more perfect faith in him and his perfect atonement.  

 With increased understanding, I have personally felt the spirit tell me over and over again that I truly am enough.  Others may not agree.  But that's okay. He accepts my offering.  He accepts my efforts as a woman, wife, mother, worker bee, or disciple. I do not have to justify that to anyone. 

Bluebird

 This morning I was thinking about being a true bluebird.  Sometime between kindergarten and first grade, my mother signed me up for bluebirds and volunteered to be the adult leader.  Bluebirds were the youngest age group in the Campfire girls organization, very similar to Girl Scouts.  Our uniforms were red, white, and blue in contrast to the drab brown garb of the “ Brownies” from G S A. Instead of earning patches, we earned beads and placed them on Native American looking gowns and moccasins. Honors were awarded in a “Council Fire” at least that’s what I remember from the lyric from our procession as we sang,“ We come, we come to our council fire, with measure tread and slow, to light the fire of our desire, to light the fire of Wo-He-Lo. Wo-He-Lo, Wo He-Lo!

Though Wo-He-Lo was not a Native American word (it was an acronym for work, health, and love) there were other references to the culture.  The name of our day camp was Camp Suanga and I still have a picture of me holding up an Indian corn husk doll we made there.   I was oblivious to all these themes at the time, but have recently learned more of Native American culture.  I know they sometimes refer to having a spirit animal along with a profound connection to Mother Earth.

My spirit animal is definitely  a blue bird or song bird like the black capped chickadee.  I like to flit about and go all over the place.  So I really wasn’t surprised with my visceral reaction to my recent job interview, work expectations and tour of facility and resources.  Though a generous offer, validation of my profession and a stimulating opportunity, it was not a good fit for me, Little miss Erinbird.   

As I tried to understand the sinking feeling in my gut, the image of a little bird came to mind.  I felt like a canary going down into coal mine to work out the remainder of my days, with clipped wings, in a cage, with limited air and light.  This impressions came as I imagined running processing psychotherapy groups, doing multiple daily assessments, and sharing an office to complete my 3 hour a day worth of documentation.  I really would not be using recreational tasks involving music, art or movement. Space was restricted and resources sparse due to valid safety concerns.  This was the job and I would need to measure up to fit in and meet the established expectations.

Once I turned my attention to the other work opportunity, providing recreational therapy services to 2 separate locations, I started to feel lighter and brighter.   I realized it was an opportunity to make my own schedule and expectations as I set forth to present my proposal to administration.  Though it was uncomfortable and challenging to market myself and what I could potentially do for their organization, I really felt like the cage had been opened and it was time to take flight.  And I did. 

This has been my first week flitting about between campuses. I have been overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude for the wealth of space, resource and supportive work associates to put my plan into action.  My little bluebird heart is singing a happy song. 

Improve the Moment

 This morning I was thinking of my stress response and how to improve the next moment as a way to exercise faith.  It was only a week ago, that I felt cold/flu symptoms and was reminded I should test for Covid.  I  tested positive and spent the majority of the week quarantined, trying to recover.  On Monday, my boss called saying that he was not only Covid positive, but that administration had decided to discontinue our day treatment program and suggested I contact HR within the larger corporation for possible opportunities utilizing TR (Therapeutic Recreation).  I really wasn't in the state of mind/body to receive or respond to this news, nevertheless, the door was closing and it was time to find another open door.  

Though not feeling well, I took slow, deliberate, micro-steps to totally accept what is and do my best to "improve the next moment" and "make decisions aligned with my values".  These are concepts I have been studying with DBT continuing education credits online.  I found my PHD doppelganger on the internet with whom I seriously would like to do a Vulcan "mind meld" with. She even has a daughter named "Hailey!" (https://www.docsnipes.com).  Anyway, practicing radical acceptance and improving the next moment are crucial distress tolerance skills I not only want to teach others, but first practice myself.  And I just so happen to have plenty of stressful events giving me a perfect opportunity to practice them.  

Not once this week did I feel panicked or even emotionally triggered, especially since I had received similar news 16 months ago.  With the assurance that "everything will be okay" I spent my time reaching out to HR, talking with other clinical directors, completing additional counseling CEU's, learning and creating music in "Bandlab" for future use with students,  updating my resume and casually looking on "Indeed."  I was magnetically drawn to a position that I originally passed on 16 months ago, but now felt prompted to take action and apply for it.  I texted the clinical director and asked if I might be considered.  She texted back "Absolutely!"  I set up an interview for next week and will most likely be offered the job. 

My current employer wanted me to show up for work on Friday, so I masked up, stayed away from the students and started to gather my belongings from the day program.  During my first year with this company, I have worked 3 separate programs providing recreational therapy services.  First a clinical boarding school, then residential treatment, then a IOP day program. In many ways, it has been an incredible opportunity for learning, growth, innovation, flexibility, creative expression and clarity.   I have no regrets.  I am sad that our day program is closing.  I invested heavily and feel a keen sense of loss. I had great hopes that will never come to fruition.  I know I am not the only one who is experiencing loss due to this financial failure.  Yet hope is a real thing.

Hope shines brightly.  Better days are ahead.  I have one last week with my current students.  During this time we will focus on distress tolerance and the IMPROVE acronym combined with various recreational tasks. I will encourage them to make slow, deliberate, steps to totally "accept what is" and do their best to "improve the next moment" and "make decisions aligned with their values".  It will become a template for my future work.   

I feel peace.  I feel directed, even led to which next steps to take for well-being.  My object of faith is not in some super-wow youtube psych counselor or latest greatest evidenced based mental health practice but rooted in Jesus Christ.  Faith in Jesus Christ, Hope in Jesus Christ energize and infuse me with acceptance of what is and power to move on.  He supercharges my meager capacity to IMPROVE the next moment.  

It Will Be Okay

 Last weekend my mother was having difficulties with her vision and went to the hospital.   She learned she had a "mini" stroke with some clots, A-fib heart irregularities, and some type of aneurism.  The neurologist considering everything that was going on in her body, said to her, "You are one lucky woman!  My mom felt like the he didn't really sympathize with her vision complaints compared to what losses she could have been experiencing.  Yet for my mom, working vision is crucial to her daily schedule.  She loves to read, watch TV, browse Facebook posts and drive herself places-all requiring a certain degree of visual acuity.  

Generally speaking, my mom has been pretty healthy over the last 85 years.  She has experienced some issues requiring medical attention including surgeries, brief hospitalization, chronic conditions requiring ongoing medication, but on the whole, she has been high functioning across most domains.  I know she will not live forever, but I'm always hopeful she will be like her aunties that lived into their late 90's.  I know aging is a series of managing losses. It's not pretty whether we're watching love ones age or going through the process ourselves.  

When I got the call that my mother was in the hospital, I couldn't help but wonder if she would be okay.  Or is this when she dies?  What abilities might she lose? What will she be able to do?  What will her quality of life be like for the next 10 years?  Will she have 10 more years?  Questions like these not only go through my mind, but they most assuredly go through my mom's mind as well.

Why else would she comment to the nurses something like, "It's alright if I die because I have 3 children with active temple recommends." She answered questions to curious nurses who asked what a "temple" and "recommend were.  She invited them to be in her hospital room when she received a priesthood blessing from her son.  She wanted them to see.  She has made a covenant to be a witness of Jesus Christ at all times and in all places.   She wanted to share her faith, that truly, "Everything will be okay."   

When talking with her over the phone, she shared the above experience and casually mentioned that she called her team-primary teacher to let her know that she would not be there that Sunday for the lesson for the children.  She's that dutiful.  She's that committed. 

As our phone conversation continued, I thought about my mom's faithfulness and testimony of the Savior and made a connection to my recent studies from the week's "Come Follow Me" lesson.  I thought of Job's faithfulness through all his adversity and his testimony that "I know my Redeemer liveth."  I was overwrought with emotion and could not speak.  I wanted to but was physically choked up.  I had to say what I was thinking and feeling to my mother in the hospital.  Finally I sputtered and sobbed the words out, telling her how very grateful I am to have her life long example of faith in Jesus Christ. Not only through words, not only through church service, but also through her daily choices in everyday living-the good, the bad, and everything in between-my mom believes in Jesus Christ and wants to follow him.  This I know.

Though I was emotional, it was a sweet spiritual experience that helped me feel the spirit and reinforce my fasting that day in her behalf.  Oh how I love my mom.  Oh how I appreciate her example of faith.  And with this faith, I too can move forward into this new stage of life and our mother-daughter relationship. 

She is back from the hospital now recovering and doing her best to do what she can to access her daily routine. She has a lists of appointments as well as new medications.  She will make necessary adjustments.  Life will continue to change. She will not be able to come to Utah to visit rather it is my turn to come to California more often.   It will be different for sure, but taking a page from my mother's playbook, "It will be okay."