Mike brought home pupusas the other night. (And then, because I asked him to, he took me to the same tiny, little, hidden restaurant a few days later.) It's not that pupusas themselves are incredibly exciting. They're a very simple, homely sort of food.
I'd never even heard of them prior to Abe's call to El Salvador. But, in his little time there, he's already eaten nearly 100; and, somehow, eating them along with him (though 3,000 miles apart) feels similar to when I was hiking Mt. Sinai in the darkest hours
of morning (miles and months away from my own family) and looked up to see, in that foreign, Egyptian sky, the Big Dipper --
my Big Dipper! -- the very same grouping of stars my family back home in Utah could see any night of the year.
What else? Too many things. Daisy filling out college applications just like Abe was last year at this time, Goldie gone late every day for play practice (and getting in approximately ZERO driving hours). Mike being kept away from us far too much by his long
work hours. A cold cabin trip (my first for discovering a bat in our cabin!)
Here are a few I never posted from our cabin trip over Labor Day.
And here are the ones from this recent trip. In just over a month it switched fully from summer to winter at Bear Lake!
Tuesday night was our ward "Trunk-or-Treat". It's a big deal. Much bigger than our Christmas Party has ever managed to be. The six youth groups each run a carnival game with prizes, there's a big meal, entertainment and a costume parade, (followed by trick-or-treating
along a line of decorated cars). But, because my older kids are always helping run the games and needing to be there early for set up (and because Mike has to leave work much earlier than he should even to arrive late to the shindig), it is always a
rather hectic night for me. After helping older kids with costume/makeup needs, they immediately depart -- leaving me to ready one million small kids on my own. (Last night -- ten minutes pre-party and with two other kids still out of costume -- I realized
we still didn't have Jesse's "rock climber" outfit ready.) And then I follow them madly around the mass of carnival games -- repeatedly trying to find unaccounted for children. But! There are always two long tables filled with all types of chilis and soups,
and being a big fan of those things, it almost makes the chaos worth it. (Though I wish someone would create paper bowls with dividers so I could more easily sample a ladle-full of many kinds.)
Also. This little spriteling. She's rolled her way (literally -- when she isn't on her knees rocking [trying to figure how to crawl], she's rolling herself all over the living room) through an entire half year of life and beyond!
Also. This little spriteling. She's rolled her way (literally -- when she isn't on her knees rocking [trying to figure how to crawl], she's rolling herself all over the living room) through an entire half year of life and beyond!
Yesterday morning found me, in the dark 6:00 a.m. hour, sorting through our hat and glove boxes -- trying to pair matching gloves and sort misplaced hats -- for the younger kids to take to school. It was 10 degrees when they left! (-12 Celsius) The
coldest I remember seeing it in October. Somehow we have several pair of mittens that Mike's grandma made clear back when Mike was small. They are fuzzy and darling, but, one time, when Mike was telling the kids about them, he jokingly referred to them as
"Grandma's Folly" (as he mentioned how snow would cling and ball onto them -- making it impossible to make a snowball). The name stuck. And it always makes me chuckle when I hear one of the kids (like Anders yesterday) saying they are going to wear a pair
of Grandma's Folly.
Some pictures of this and that:
Though it seems much longer ago (due to the drastic change in weather since) we just had October General Conference (the time, twice yearly, when we hear many of our religious leaders speak). There were so many good things in the talks (as there always are).
And, as usual, I feel certain that I didn't take in a fraction of what was actually there (which fills me with a mix of excitement to learn those things as I review the talks . . . and panic that I'll miss them due to my inability to stay focused).
-- I noted the theme of joy in life despite misery (and felt strongly that I need to understand this possibility and concept more fully than I have so far).
-- The weeks before conference were filled for me with new thoughts and understanding of priesthood power and the significance and necessity of covenants. I have only understood these things (and still only understand them) on a very surface level).
But the repetition was unmistakable, and so, when the prophet's entire talk during the women's session of conference focused on that same topic, I knew the Spirit had been preparing me to recognize the importance of his words -- and the need for me to begin
a journey of deeper understanding. I feel -- like I just said about conference in general (ha! general conference): eager and excited . . .
and overwhelmed and nervous! I have so little time when I am not pressed upon by needs of babies and toddlers and house and children. And fitting in study of the Book of Mormon, Come Follow Me, and Conference Talks is already almost more than
is humanly possible. And, of course, I doubt my ability to grow in comprehension of such deep things. (Or to pass any of that understanding tidily on to my kids.) But, how can I not try to fit it in when I remember these words from a man I sustain as a prophet
of God?:
"The heavens are . . . open to women who are endowed with God's power flowing from their priesthood covenants . . . . I pray that truth will register upon each of your hearts because I believe it will change your life. Sisters, you have the right to draw liberally upon the Savior's power to help your family and others you love."
As I listened I knew it wasn't just nice words. I heard words the Spirit had been readying my mind to understand were literal and powerful beyond anything I have yet allowed.
Speaking of covenants. Anders was baptized shortly after conference. I think I already mentioned that in an earlier post? But, for the first time, I really did understand that this moment was not simply a check-list step. Nor has it been for any of us who have ever made it. I saw that in the journey of Anders coming to understand and live his promises to be a disciple of his Savior . . . that the immense power he was tying himself to -- the promises on Christ's end -- truly would enable him to do and become much more than he ever might have without it. It seemed to me that Christ himself was baptized not only because he was fully obedient to God, but because it was just as necessary for him to tie himself to God's power through covenant -- to accomplish his mission. I felt I was seeing life as a forest that we all make our way through -- past thick brambles and bushes and trees and rocks -- and that Anders had just stepped onto a path that would wind him more clearly to those he promised to help before coming to earth, and those who promised to help him, and that would weave him to experiences that would enhance his growth and lead him to further covenants that would grant him even greater access to strength from God.
"The heavens are . . . open to women who are endowed with God's power flowing from their priesthood covenants . . . . I pray that truth will register upon each of your hearts because I believe it will change your life. Sisters, you have the right to draw liberally upon the Savior's power to help your family and others you love."
As I listened I knew it wasn't just nice words. I heard words the Spirit had been readying my mind to understand were literal and powerful beyond anything I have yet allowed.
Speaking of covenants. Anders was baptized shortly after conference. I think I already mentioned that in an earlier post? But, for the first time, I really did understand that this moment was not simply a check-list step. Nor has it been for any of us who have ever made it. I saw that in the journey of Anders coming to understand and live his promises to be a disciple of his Savior . . . that the immense power he was tying himself to -- the promises on Christ's end -- truly would enable him to do and become much more than he ever might have without it. It seemed to me that Christ himself was baptized not only because he was fully obedient to God, but because it was just as necessary for him to tie himself to God's power through covenant -- to accomplish his mission. I felt I was seeing life as a forest that we all make our way through -- past thick brambles and bushes and trees and rocks -- and that Anders had just stepped onto a path that would wind him more clearly to those he promised to help before coming to earth, and those who promised to help him, and that would weave him to experiences that would enhance his growth and lead him to further covenants that would grant him even greater access to strength from God.
-- Conference also
left me with several overarching thoughts and feelings (none of which were necessarily expressly stated by any speaker, but that just seemed to be the personal
insight, revelation, and direction that accompanied my taking part in conference). Two of those were tied with scriptures that I have since memorized. Both spoke, for me, specifically about
my role as a mother.
1)
2 Nephi 7: 7 -- For the Lord God will help me, therefore shall I not be confounded. Therefore have I set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed.
This one came to me after a night of feeling overwhelmed by all I need to do for each of these kids. I woke feeling incredibly discouraged. Because (as many of you know) it's an impossible task. It really is. And it's compounded for me by, well, how many have needs of every nature at once. I decided, grasping at straws of hope, to open my scriptures before even getting out of bed. I opened to the spot where my book mark was and, when I realized I was in one of the chapters where Isaiah is being quoted, I thought, dryly, "Well, I won't be finding much help this morning." Haha.
But then I read that verse.
And it was more than words again. It was God reassuring me and it was accompanied with the certainty that it didn't matter that it was an impossible task. (And that I'd bungle much of it.) It was impossible! (And I would bungle it up now and then!) I simply needed to "set my face like a flint" -- keep trudging forward with my eyes of Christ trusting in his amazing ability to work his plans and miracles THROUGH our weaknesses and to bring healing and light where we fail.
I am often thinking of President Nelson's words when he said, "Our focus must be riveted on the Savior. It is mentally rigorous to strive to look unto Him in every thought. But when we do, our doubts and fears flee." Those words, "mentally rigorous"! That is exactly what it is! It is so hard to not give in to self-pity and doubt and discouragement. It is true mental work to keep looking with hope and trust to Him and His awareness of me and my family (and to trust in His plans for us and His purpose in all our experience) -- especially when I am so aware of my failings and inabilities and the size of my task. But it's what I must continue to try to do. And to believe, personally --in regards to my own life and not just generally, in the truth of these words from Christ found in the Doctrine and Covenants: "The works, and designs, and the purposes of God cannot be frustrated, neither can they come to naught."
2) The second scripture is Doctrine and Covenants 24: 7 -- For thou shalt devote all the service in Zion; and in this thou shalt have strength.
During conference the prophet had encouraged us to study D&C section 25. When I opened it, I felt nudged to first read section 24 -- and that scripture pressed itself into my mind. I knew that my current "service in Zion" was, primarily, in teaching the gospel to my children --- that this was my priority. And that, while I might long to excel at and experience many things, this is where I am to devote myself and expect strength from on high. And that, all my life, whatever my calls to "serve in Zion" might be -- that is where strength and power will be.
Which is a little funny (the strength business) when, only a week or two ago, I had an evening where my plans to give a good and actually-planned Family Night lesson to my kids (with no Mike home for backup), went horribly awry and ended with me shouting, "Never mind! Let's just forget Family Night and go to bed!" And then crying and feeling like a hopeless failure the rest of the night. Ha! I just feel such pressure to carry that duty out -- to teach my children. And there is SO MUCH they need to know! They need to understand the doctrine of Christ -- faith, repentance, baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost. They need to understand Christ's atonement for them and mercy and grace. They need to understand covenants and temples and priesthood. They need to know the Proclamation to the Family and the scriptures. They need to be ready to withstand Satan's evil attempts to wrap them in addictions and lies and misery. I need to teach them reverence and how to LISTEN for crying out loud (ha!). Ohhhh the list goes on and on and on! And I have so many kids at SUCH different ages and maturity levels. Teaching them each all of these things -- in increasing depth (and remembering which kids I've taught anything to) -- is just an overwhelming and impossible thing. And I hated that I'd given up and taught them NOTHING that night.
But then the Spirit, very kindly and very gently, wiggled in past my discouragement and told me that I didn't need to panic so much about how to get them to listen and how to teach them all of these huge and important things; not that I didn't need to be diligent, but that what was necessary was simply that I give them small and simple opportunities to feel The Spirit and to associate family time and gospel learning with happiness. That was it. He could then fill in the gaps and holes and give me opportunities off and on throughout the day to teach them more and deeper things.
That was certainly an unexpected and novel thought when my feelings of late -- in association with that D&C 24 scripture -- have been so much along the lines of my mission being to TEACH these kids. But I guess when you tie that scripture with the first one God told me -- that He would help me, then it makes sense after all. And wasn't that kind of Him? That gentle realization of what He needs me to do? I know we are not all in the same boat. I get a bit envious when I watch friends with fewer and older children who successfully have lengthy gospel discussions. But God knows how many kids he sent me and how difficult it is to meet all those various needs in any one setting. And I guess . . . he's going to help me. (And provide a lot of learning through others as well as fix a lot of moments of failing on my part.) He's a pretty good partner to have.
This one came to me after a night of feeling overwhelmed by all I need to do for each of these kids. I woke feeling incredibly discouraged. Because (as many of you know) it's an impossible task. It really is. And it's compounded for me by, well, how many have needs of every nature at once. I decided, grasping at straws of hope, to open my scriptures before even getting out of bed. I opened to the spot where my book mark was and, when I realized I was in one of the chapters where Isaiah is being quoted, I thought, dryly, "Well, I won't be finding much help this morning." Haha.
But then I read that verse.
And it was more than words again. It was God reassuring me and it was accompanied with the certainty that it didn't matter that it was an impossible task. (And that I'd bungle much of it.) It was impossible! (And I would bungle it up now and then!) I simply needed to "set my face like a flint" -- keep trudging forward with my eyes of Christ trusting in his amazing ability to work his plans and miracles THROUGH our weaknesses and to bring healing and light where we fail.
I am often thinking of President Nelson's words when he said, "Our focus must be riveted on the Savior. It is mentally rigorous to strive to look unto Him in every thought. But when we do, our doubts and fears flee." Those words, "mentally rigorous"! That is exactly what it is! It is so hard to not give in to self-pity and doubt and discouragement. It is true mental work to keep looking with hope and trust to Him and His awareness of me and my family (and to trust in His plans for us and His purpose in all our experience) -- especially when I am so aware of my failings and inabilities and the size of my task. But it's what I must continue to try to do. And to believe, personally --in regards to my own life and not just generally, in the truth of these words from Christ found in the Doctrine and Covenants: "The works, and designs, and the purposes of God cannot be frustrated, neither can they come to naught."
2) The second scripture is Doctrine and Covenants 24: 7 -- For thou shalt devote all the service in Zion; and in this thou shalt have strength.
During conference the prophet had encouraged us to study D&C section 25. When I opened it, I felt nudged to first read section 24 -- and that scripture pressed itself into my mind. I knew that my current "service in Zion" was, primarily, in teaching the gospel to my children --- that this was my priority. And that, while I might long to excel at and experience many things, this is where I am to devote myself and expect strength from on high. And that, all my life, whatever my calls to "serve in Zion" might be -- that is where strength and power will be.
Which is a little funny (the strength business) when, only a week or two ago, I had an evening where my plans to give a good and actually-planned Family Night lesson to my kids (with no Mike home for backup), went horribly awry and ended with me shouting, "Never mind! Let's just forget Family Night and go to bed!" And then crying and feeling like a hopeless failure the rest of the night. Ha! I just feel such pressure to carry that duty out -- to teach my children. And there is SO MUCH they need to know! They need to understand the doctrine of Christ -- faith, repentance, baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost. They need to understand Christ's atonement for them and mercy and grace. They need to understand covenants and temples and priesthood. They need to know the Proclamation to the Family and the scriptures. They need to be ready to withstand Satan's evil attempts to wrap them in addictions and lies and misery. I need to teach them reverence and how to LISTEN for crying out loud (ha!). Ohhhh the list goes on and on and on! And I have so many kids at SUCH different ages and maturity levels. Teaching them each all of these things -- in increasing depth (and remembering which kids I've taught anything to) -- is just an overwhelming and impossible thing. And I hated that I'd given up and taught them NOTHING that night.
But then the Spirit, very kindly and very gently, wiggled in past my discouragement and told me that I didn't need to panic so much about how to get them to listen and how to teach them all of these huge and important things; not that I didn't need to be diligent, but that what was necessary was simply that I give them small and simple opportunities to feel The Spirit and to associate family time and gospel learning with happiness. That was it. He could then fill in the gaps and holes and give me opportunities off and on throughout the day to teach them more and deeper things.
That was certainly an unexpected and novel thought when my feelings of late -- in association with that D&C 24 scripture -- have been so much along the lines of my mission being to TEACH these kids. But I guess when you tie that scripture with the first one God told me -- that He would help me, then it makes sense after all. And wasn't that kind of Him? That gentle realization of what He needs me to do? I know we are not all in the same boat. I get a bit envious when I watch friends with fewer and older children who successfully have lengthy gospel discussions. But God knows how many kids he sent me and how difficult it is to meet all those various needs in any one setting. And I guess . . . he's going to help me. (And provide a lot of learning through others as well as fix a lot of moments of failing on my part.) He's a pretty good partner to have.
Anyway, that was certainly a post! But it has actually come to an end. Off I go now to . . . all the usual things. At this very moment I will: swap laundry from the washing machine to the dryer, clean up a big mess of crafting mess and crayons, feed a fussing
baby, change a diaper, put a toddler for a nap, and practice reading with Summer. Farewell.
