Blog
Is the journey THAT important?
Salmon hatch from eggs in streams. They are born quite small and after a time have an urge to swim down stream. They swim to the ocean, sometimes as far as 100 miles, and others swim more than 2,500 miles, where they live for five years! They again have an urge to return to their birth place. Only now they have grown 100 times their size at birth. Traveling upstream is difficult. They become strong. The salt water mixed with the fresh water changes the salmon’s coloring to a beautiful, vibrant color. Many receive scars from the rocks and bears as they travel. Upon arrival they spawn, and the cycle continues. For whatever reason some salmon choose not to swim down stream, but to stay in the comfortable watering hole of their birth. Comparing the two fish is drastic: the one remaining in its comfort zone and the other becoming what it was intended to become. The one is small, silver with black dots and quite unremarkable. It had not become what it could have. The other is large, strong & muscular, and, beautiful with vibrant color. This fish though experiencing turbulence has journeyed to the measure of its making. So what about you? What of your birth and life? Having the courage to swim out of your comfort zone is hard, there are many obstacles in your way; fear, doubt, discouragement, failure. But what about the journey? Traveling, experimenting, working, striving? It is the journey that will bring about your most vibrant color, your strongest belief and your most impressive feats. Don’t be afraid, growing is good. And it can only come from leaving your comfort...
read moreThe Second Gift of Christmas – Shining Bright
Mathew 2: 1-2 reads, “Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judæa in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.” This star was planned, created, and set into motion, not on that Christmas day, but before then. It’s shape, position, brightness, movement and declaration were not by accident, but by and through the word of God. The star was there for all to see it,wise men, kings, humble servants, shepherds, mothers, children and more. Only those who knew Him, and had studied His word recognized its light as significant and holy. Out of all the signs that were possible, why a star to represent the birth of the baby Jesus? I don’t know what that star looked like, or how the wise men used a star in the heavens, millions of light years away to direct their path. But I do know that God used that light, and planned for Jesus Christ’s births eons before it took place. It was a star used to celebrate the light (Jesus Christ) which was born into the world that day. It was no accident. Jesus Christ is the light of the world and we too have been given a light, His light, to shine within us. Did you ever notice the scripture, “Let you light so shine.” The verse does not instruct us to turn on our light, or to brighten our light, it does not request us to clean off our light. It simply requests us to let our light shine. Unlike a temporal light source that requires turning on, engaging, or creating combustion; the light within us is always aglow, if we let it shine. That light within us is the light of Jesus Christ. It is a gift of our mortal life, a piece of heaven provided to guide and direct our mortal sojourn back to our Father in Heaven. I once had a dream about the light of Christ. In my mind the light was represented by a clear and brightly glowing marble that resided inside my chest. It was beautiful and represented my agency, or ability to choose. Without going into my entire dream, the lesson I learned is that the gift of choice is more important than any other responsibility, obligation or relationship. The light of Christ is the gift of agency. President Uchdorf, member of the Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints so eloquently shares testimony about God’s expansive universe and our place of importance in His majestic work of salvation. “Astronomers have attempted to count the number of stars in the universe. One group of scientists estimates that the number of stars within range of our telescopes is 10 times greater than all the grains of sand on the world’s beaches and deserts. This conclusion has a striking similarity to the declaration of the ancient prophet Enoch: “Were it possible that man could number the particles of the earth, yea, millions of earths like this, it would not be a beginning to the number of thy creations.” “This is a paradox of man: compared...
read moreMy First Gift of Christmas – Letting Go
In my front yard is a row of trees, three to be exact. I love these trees! In the spring they produce the most glorious pink blossoms! As they fall to the ground at the onslaught of summer, the gently wafting pedals look like a pastel snowstorm, blanketing my newly emerging grass with a layer of spring. Last year the middle of the three trees took began to decay. The life force of tree has cut off several large branches, which has in turn browned and frozen old, withered leaves. Through the summer months of abundance and life, several branches of crispy brown leaves stood upon their pedestal, quaking in stiffness with a gentle breeze. Everyday as I would drive in to my circle the first thing I would notice was these dead branches, in the midst of my beautiful trees. “I need to do something about that.” Next day, “I wonder if our saw is strong enough to cut those out. I wonder if I am strong enough to use that thing.” Day after that, “That’s ugly. I hope my tree isn’t dying.” It is now December. Granted, there is no snow. It’s been a really warm winter, all of the leaves have fallen, and yet there is a small patch of leaves that hangs on – all scraggly and withered. They cling to the branch in perpetuity, disregarding the fact that in the circle-of-life-leaves are now supposed to be filling the earth with nitrogen via decomposition, or transforming into spring time mulch at the local dump. How much is this like life? When part of my life falls away; an opportunity, a season, or a relationship, do let I it go? Like the natural cycle of my leaves? Or do I hang on with all the fortitude of a stiff and lifeless leaf? At moments when challenged with fear, resentment, jealousy, or overwhelm, do I let go? Trusting the seasons of life to produce the gift of breathing and dying; or do I cling to the feeling of loss, in hopes that the memory of pain will remind me that I am still alive? When the storms do come, the old branches are prone to break, and often cause quite a bit of damage to the surrounding property. What about the storms of life? There are natural seasons to opportunity, harvesting, and resting. Burdening a heart with resentment, fear, or worry of lack only brings about damage when the real challenges come. Think about it, if there are lots of leaves remaining on the trees for the first snow storm, what happens? Those leaves cause the branches to break under the weight of the snow, destroying power lines, and homes in the process. In the cold days of winter, God’s great plan gave the earth a way to shed the unnecessary to strengthen what is required. In times of rest, God too allows us the opportunity to let go of pain, trauma and fear so that we can nurture what is alive and well, all so that we may harvest bountifully the following season. Letting go can be hard. In my own life taking a moment to recognize and to become aware of old thought patterns can be the simple solution to dropping a leaf of worry,...
read moreFinding Christmas
What is the most Christmas filled experience you have had? I have been thinking a lot about Christmas. What exactly is the Christmas spirit? There are parties, trees, lights, gifts, hot cocoa, bundling up by the fire, watching movies, shopping, mailing cards to family and friends. There is giving, and donating; there are plays, musicals and concerts. There is a palpable feeling in the air, and throughout the community of good will, of hope and purpose. This feeling is unique to Christmas time. And yet, none of these things we do now for Christmas were there on that first Christmas. Except for the singing, and gifts given a couple years down the road from the wise men. We have created this hive of activity to symbolize the holiday, but none of the activities were there then. Can you imagine, the inn keeper saying, “Mary, sorry about the inn being in a no-vacancy state, would you like to listen to some Barry Manilow on my blue tooth speaker while sipping some Stephens gourmet hot cocoa while you recover from your nine month pregnancy – riding for three days on a donkey – post baby delivery?” Or Joseph saying, “Mary can you believe all the Black Friday discounts that are going on at the the Amazon caravan from the city? If we order stuff before the baby comes maybe they can do expedited camel delivery.” So what is the Christmas spirit? Where does it come from? Over 16 years ago I traveled from the city of Jerusalem, where I was living for the summer, to Bethlehem. According to Google maps it is about an hour and a half drive. We went in classes, on three different large scale tour buses. We piled into with our day packs and sack lunches. (Turkey and cheese in fresh pita bread, yum!) The remarkable thing about modern day Bethlehem, is that is looks like ancient day Bethlehem. The outline of the city, the old stone buildings, the simplicity and scarcity of the town all reminds me of what I imagine old Bethlehem to look like. Even today the population is estimated at only 25,000. On this hot summer day we made plans to visit the inside city of Bethlehem, and to go to Shepherd’s Field. While there are many geographical relics in Israel, I remember specifically this day, our instructor warning us not to be disappointed in the religious spectacle offered by centuries of worship of various Christian groups. I wasn’t sure what that meant, or more specifically, what that meant for me until after we payed homage to the baby Jesus at the Church of the Nativity, along with the hundreds of thousands, and millions of other faithful humans who had made their pilgrimage to this spot. July 29, 1998 | Bethlehem, Israel “Deafen yourself to the noise of the insignificant. Don’t look at what now is, look at what once was. Open up your spiritual understanding.” – Brother Ostler, BYU Jerusalem Instructor Christmas is not in the Church of the Nativity I now understood what he meant. There is so much opulence in this place of worship, that the feeling of Christmas was totally absent. You know the Christmas feeling of purity, of simplicity, of hope,...
read moreGiving Thanks
November is swiftly coming to a close. Our days are vacillating between brisk cold winds, and unusually warm sunshine. Yesterday we celebrated Thanksgiving, last weekend we celebrated Thanksgiving. What a wonderful opportunity to stop, and reflect. My gratitude doth overflow. Its not so much about the things, but the people, the miracles, the faith, the journey, the failing and rising that I am grateful for. Out of billions on earth, why am I so blessed to know you? To know Him, the great creator? How is that I have always had access to food, shelter, comfort and peace? How is it that I have been surrounded by family who love me, who laugh with me, who cry with me? My heart is full in realization of my absolute dependence on God for the gifts that have come so freely and so abundantly throughout my life. Today is a day to pause and choose awareness of the simple pleasures of life; cuddling on the couch with my kiddos, whipping up dessert to share with family, a minute to reflect on goodness, and friendly embrace to those I love. When was the last time that you FELT grateful? The kind of gratitude that upswells inside of your heart. A few weeks ago I spent a tearful moment by myself in my kitchen. I honestly do not remember all the challenges I was carrying, maybe that is the true power of prayer; giving completely your hardship to the Lord. He then lovingly bears your burden, and wipes your mind’s worries, transforming them into gifts. Sometimes life is heavy; responsibility requires weight. Elder Bednar, a member of the quorum of the twelve apostles, shared a story in the most recent General Conference. He told of a gentleman who went into a snowy forrest to collect fire wood for his family. His truck became stuck. It wasn’t until the trailer bed was full of wood that he could make the return journey to his family. “It was the load of wood that provided the traction necessary for him to get out of the snow, to get back on the road, and to move forward. It was the load that enabled him to return to his family and his home. Each of us also carries a load. Our individual load is comprised of demands and opportunities, obligations and privileges, afflictions and blessings, and options and constraints. ” Daily I am leading, guiding, writing, calling, scheduling, paying, cleaning, tutoring, asking, requesting, premising, cooking, kissing, hugging. And then I sleep. The next day I do it again. On this day my heart felt heavy, I felt inadequate to accomplish the tasks on my list. A night of wakeful children, followed by a heavy work load, and another night of wanting babies, left my body and spirit wanting. In a humble declaration, I pleaded with the Lord to help carry my burden. Tears fell freely. My admission to myself and to the Lord, of my inadequacy to do it alone, is consistently slow. Sometimes it is easy to push away the Atonement, with the prideful assertion, that after ALL I CAN DO, then the Lord will kick in for me. Yet, I think that I am not doing enough to merit help yet, that I haven’t done enough. Grief, sorrow, fatigue,...
read moreEnjoy Every Ordinary Day
When I was a little girl, over and over my Grandma Joy would say, “Enjoy every ordinary day, those are the ones you’ll miss when they are gone.” I’m going to miss the piles of laundry, maybe not. I AM going to miss the morning scraggly hugs from my little ones; soothing my baby, in only a way a parent can when he wakes up disheveled after a harried night. I am going to miss requests for chocolate chips cookies, and little helpers who want to pour in the vanilla and to lick the beaters. I am going to miss the bed time routine, begging for more time with mom and dad, and the oh so naughty pleas for more…. water, snuggles, books read, and food. A Broken Winker 10/16/2014 This morning I had a date with my daughter while the rest of the family slumbered, we had an appointment with the baby doll, Giovanna with the family renowned doctor, Dr. Allyson. My baby doll had a cough. After careful examination, checking her reflexes with the, “knee bonker,” the stethoscope to check her heartbeat, and her eyes, it was discovered that the baby had a broken winker. Luckily Dr. Ally had the right medicine in stock and now baby’s winker is working just fine. Thank you Dr. Allyson! Doctor by Day, Ninja By Night 10/21/2014 A new day with new ordinary adventures. Today Dr. Allyson (4) brought her doctor kit upstairs to perform an examination on my real baby Ben (1.) She, again, pulled out the tools in her bag, examining her brother’s eyes, and checking his blood pressure, “His heart is good.” She got really close with the with the eye checker, and bonked his knees to check his reflexes. Bonk, bonk, bonk. And with a little help from me, kick, kick, kick. After a few minutes of working, she turns to me and says, “Mom, I can be a doctor and a ninja!” “Wow!” I say. “Look, I’m wearing black and white, so I’m a ninja, and I’m a doctor!” Yes child, you can be a anything you want to be. A doctor, a ninja, a kitty. (That is the usual request when she is asked what she wants to be when she grow up, which is strange, because my son who is just older than Ally claimed he had kitties in his tummy when I was pregnant with her. How did he know?) Last night, she was acting her part as a puppy. “Mom, pretend we are playing catch, and I am your puppy.” “Mom, pause the game. Pretend you are my trainer, and tell me to roll over.” Bringing me a big box of Whoppers via teeth, like a dog, at her grandma’s house, “Mom, give me a treat when I roll over.” For the next 30 minutes I played catch with my puppy. I have always wanted a dog, but couldn’t since I’m allergic. Gratitude for Ordinary Moments In her book, “The Gifts of Imperfection,” Brene Brown shares, ” I think I learned the most about the value of ordinary from interviewing men and women who have experienced tremendous loss such as the loss of a child, violence, genocide and trauma. The memories that they help most sacred were the ordinary,...
read moreToday’s Vulnerability, Tomorrow’s Hope
I recently finished reading Brene Brown’s book, “The Gifts of Imperfection.” I had never heard of Brene’s work until about two months ago. Since that time I have been flooded with recommendations, quotes here and there, and mentions of her name. “We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection. Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them – we can only love others as much as we love ourselves. Shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal, and the withholding of affection damage the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed and rare.” – Brene Brown,The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are I have been profoundly awakened to the fact that the fears I have about my own inadequacies and weaknesses are a mere reflection to the experience of humanity. The reason I have finally chosen to make this blog public, rather than silently keeping my life’s memories and thoughts, was to show courage and my own vulnerability in hopes to deepen connections, and share goodness. Rather than squander my life and stories, I am now choosing to open up my heart to those who also seek, imperfectly, to embrace and enjoy the light of God with their ordinary days. Is there a time in your life that you felt vulnerable? The feeling, that your raw, most prized and heartfelt work was laid out for the world to see? Worried that it wasn’t good enough? Or worse yet, that some one would mock your belief, your treasure, your willingness to try? I have felt these feelings powerfully. I have felt this sense of vulnerability intensely in the past several years, as the momentum of our community has shifted from prizing traditional conservative, family values, to accepting, embracing and celebrating alternative lifestyle living. My own life experience give me an unique perspective of the reality of alternative lifestyle choices. And yet to vocalize my opinion leaves my, sometimes raw emotions, on the chopping block for others to scrutinize and to make an example of. I have felt vulnerable at times in sharing my belief in God the Eternal Father, and in his Son Jesus Christ. I am not ashamed of the testimony of my Lord (2 Timothy) but to share gives way to criticism in this world, and so until now, I have shared privately, to my family, to my close friends my most tender feelings of faith. I have felt vulnerable when I am striving diligently to provide for my family, present my family, care for their needs, clean my house, and live in such a way that is presentable… and oh, how I fall short at times. That time I dropped my daughter off to preschool in my “work out clothes,” yeah, that’s what I wore to bed. Or that time when I am sitting in church and I notice that my eight year old son is...
read moreThe Truth About Family Pictures
A few weeks ago we met my brother Solomon at our old stomping grounds, the Garden Park Ward, in Salt Lake City, Utah for family photos. The truth about family photos is that there is nothing pretty or easy about getting six people out the door cheerfully looking well groomed and on time. I am so happy to have these precious moments preserved for our family memory book, at this time, in this moment, these are our children. This is our love. This is our laughter. This is the opportunity we have to nurture and grow our family. It is no surprise that I love Garden Park Ward. I grew up here. The first house I lived in was my great grandparent’s house on 1200 East. It is the house that my grandpa grew up in, and we lived in the basement apartment until I turned three, when my mom bought the house I lived in until I got married. My grandparents Dave and Joy met while they were living in the Garden Park Ward as youth. My great uncles lived in the neighborhood, I knew them, I knew their children and some of their grandchildren. My great grandpa David W. Evans was in charge of purchasing the land that the Garden Park ward is built on. When I go here I feel my roots. I love this land, I love the people who are here in my memory and in my heart. I love the leaders I had growing up, who taught me faith, and love and acceptance. I love the ducks in the pond that I grew up chasing; the lessons of hard work, persistence and patience that I gleaned from watching and participating periodically in the great under taking of caring for the beloved grounds at the ward. I love the gigantic trees that hang over the land, probably alive for more than 100 years, the tower over this great landscape, and offer solitude, serenity and peace. Oh how I love this place! I love the sanctuary I found with my friends, and my faith. . And now, as a mother, I feel tired. But so grateful that I can show this place to my people, to my children. I am so grateful to be able to teach our heritage to their eager minds, and show them the opportunity that we have to appreciate our roots and expand our wings. I believe that one of humanity’s greatest needs is to find and nurture connection to others. This connection happens immediately following birth, with mothers and infants bonding. The need to feel valued, validated and important is insatiable in all humanity. I believe our drive to dull our senses stems largely from a starvation to authentic and raw connections to those in our midst. Connecting to ourselves, and to those around us is as essential to our survival as is food and water. I am grateful to my ancestors, to my family members, and to my friends. The physical land of my childhood conjures up feelings of safety, pride, and belonging. In all of my doing for my own children, my greatest desire is that in their experience, in our home, that they too feel a sense of belonging, to their roots, to their...
read moreHelp Them Find Me
The Relief Society, Priesthood, Young Men and Young Women were all invited to attend a special class on family history this past October. Brother Sciamarella invited a friend to share her testimony and experiences of doing family history work. I do not even remember her name. I do know that she works at ancestory.com. She is an avid family historian, and has not only the technical skills to do family history, but also a love and passion for the purpose behind the data. She shared a story about her daughter. At just 18 years of age she slipped from mortality into the next life due to a car accident. She was active in the faith and at the time of her death she held a limited use temple recommend. That means she could participate in the ordinance of baptizing the dead, but she had not yet received her initiatory or endowment. Because of her worthiness, her bishop had just completed a recommend interview before her passing, her mother was encouraged to finish her temple work BEFORE her one year death anniversary. In most cases, we are required to wait a full year after someone’s passing to complete their vicarious temple work. Throughout the temple initiatory and endowment, a living temple patron acts as proxy for the dead. Over and over, the name of the living is mentioned, and the name of the deceased. This freshly wounded mother was avoiding the “opportunity” to hear over and over that her daughter was dead, and so she procrastinated doing her work. In a moment of connection and quiet reflection, her daughter came to her in spirit with hands on her hips, and a tapping foot. “Mom, you need to do my temple work. I cannot progress without it.” This beautiful and radiant daughter shared through the spirit that she was in a pleasant probationary state, after having had the opportunity to meet with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to make a reporting of her life. When the interview was complete, Jesus and Heavenly Father left her presence. They had other businesses to attend, business that she could not participate in or help carry out because she had not yet received the blessings and promises bestowed upon individuals inside the walls of our temples. In the temples we enjoy ordinances, first for ourselves, and then for our deceased loved ones. You can think of these ordinances as a pathway of opportunity, promises, and covenants. Just as Jacob dreamed of progression in Bethel, as he saw angels descending and ascending into heaven, we too can partake in the blessings of progression through covenant making in the temple of our God, the House of the Lord. As rungs of a ladder give a stepping stool heavenward, so do ordinances offer a lift of progression towards returning worthily to our Heavenly Father. Baptism is the first ordinance, where we are washed clean of our sins, followed by confirmation, when we are bestowed with the gift of the Holy Ghost. Following these ordinances at the age of 8, young men can receive the Aaronic Priesthood, or the lesser priesthood at age 12, and the Melchezedek Priesthood when they become and Elder in the Church, usually at age 18-19. In the modern day temples, members of the Church...
read moreThe four thousand three hundred and eightieth day
The night before she was born, I was frantically rushing to get everything done. For weeks prior I had been on bed rest due to some complications. Pre-eclampsia had taken its toll on my blood pressure, and so I was required to do nothing, even though I felt fine. My doctor schedule my induction three weeks prior to my due date because of his concern for my health. Once we knew that the baby was in a safe range for birth, it was go time. The usually molasses stricken hours and minutes were quickly transformed into a mountain of to do items, that needed to be accomplished before the baby’s birthday. I felt energetic and nervous, anxious to be finished with the pregnancy, and most importantly to meet my new little princess. For weeks her hiccups had kept me company, I could sense her in me, not just me bigger, but me and another. It was a beautiful experience. I knew enough about children because of my experience babysitting, that I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into. Eek! A new mom! I couldn’t believe this was me! Loud wind howled throughout the night. I remember hearing a ruckus motorcyclist speed through our neighborhood. All these sounds and a swift movement towards my nerves, I knew it was going to be a sleepless night. We arrived at the hospital early, despite being three weeks from my due date, the labor went swiftly. Just 8 hours from the time I was hooked up until I met my sweet little Anna. Her first moments were a bit scary, she was purple, and limp. I waited anxiously to hear her cry. “Where is she? Is she alright? Why can’t I hear her?” The nurses soothed my fears, my pediatric nurse mother was right by the waiting respiratory therapist and instinctively wanted to take over his position of reviving a struggling new born. Within a long few seconds, she was wailing, the sweetest sound on earth for any mother, and she was oh, so tiny!! Just 5 pounds 11 ounces. A scrawny 19 inches was her frame. Her head was covered in an almost nonexistent, invisible fuzz. She had pouty red lips and she was perfect. We spent an extra day in the hospital, with her being so little, and me being so sick. Then we came home. I remember enjoying the luxury of holding an rocking her for hours. I loved claiming rhythm to our new life, a rhythm in nursing, in rocking, in sleeping, in her calling to me, and me coming to understand her needs and wants. In time we added a melody to that rhythm. She grew in beauty, and life. Her spunk and happiness are contagious to those she comes into contact with. She is brave and adventurous, always wanting to push life’s experience to the appropriate level of excitement. She is bright and light. She has an innate desire to do good, to help others around her feel included, and to make good decisions. Right now it is 4:36, on her 12th birthday. It’s almost exactly to the minute that she arrived. It is her little heart and hands that made me a mother. I am humbled beyond my wildest dreams to know my Heavenly...
read more