Cleaning Alone, Celestial Rearing, Track Meet Busts, and "As the Good Shall Grow"

Saturday evening Mike took all of the kids (even the tiny, unpredictable one) to play in his parents' backyard while he worked on some garden boxes. I stayed behind to get the house cleaned up for the night -- which should be a punishment akin to being sent to bed without your supper it seems (supper? does anyone use that word anymore?). But it felt ... a delight; like grocery shopping by yourself; and I wonder what teenage me would have thought had she known her future definitions of indulgent luxury.

A flyer, advertising our stake's upcoming women's conference, was recently left taped to my front door. I perused it quickly and noticed that one of the speakers had been given the topic of "Raising Celestial Teens in a Telestial World". 

I shuddered at the thought. 

Wait. That sounded funny. I didn't shudder at the thought of raising Celestial teens in a Telestial world (though yes, that too sometimes! trembling and shuddering! ha!). But what I meant to say was that I shuddered at the thought of being given such a speaking assignment! 

I thought of the many faithful and powerful women I know -- utterly courageous examples who are doing every good thing ... while seeing, as of yet, very little positive Celestial result in their parenting. These women I love are pillars to me. And I know their efforts are not wasted. Their persevering with those they love through the messy mortal living set before them will work in the souls of their children. And will be answered with unthinkably glorious eventual joys. I am sure of this. And it gives me hope when I consider what the road ahead in my own parenting might entail. But I imagined myself up there -- glibly giving a Celestial to-do list to these women who have battled so long in the trenches for their hope and faith and wisdom and, well, it made me very glad I was not the one speaking on such a complex topic!

But! I do catch beautiful/starkly contrasted glimpses of that ideal every now and then. 

Last Wednesday Goldie, Penny, Jesse and I were awake by 5:00 a.m. It was wholly dark (other than the light from our kitchen) and the wind was battering the house and shaking the windows. But there was a hushed excitement in the air as I quietly French braided the girls' hair and gave Jesse his eye drops. They were heading to the temple for the first time in over a year.

My mom had given us a little envelope full of names of our Norwegian ancestors -- including 16 men for Jesse. Knowing the temple usually only allows five to be done at a time (and knowing appointments were booked back to back), I opened the envelope -- intending to remove the top five cards of men to send with Jesse so he wouldn't misplace the rest. But then I felt a distinct anticipation that seemed to exclaim, "Oh no! Don't do that! What if? What if we can all get our work done? We've waited so long! Send us all!" And so I did.

It was, of course, completely dark when they left. And that wind I mentioned was tearing about so wildly that I thought school might get cancelled, and I worried a little over Goldie driving and over possible power outages shutting the temple down.

So I lingered in the doorway as the three of them climbed into our old white truck, turned on the engine and the headlights, and pulled away from our house. The dark and the wind seemed extra ... I don't know ... fierce and lonely and consuming -- like all the darkness and turbulence of the world whipping about outside my home. 

But around that little truck? There seemed to be a circle of protection; of light and power that allowed my three, small kids to faithfully carve their way forward, through the darkness, and on to accomplishing God's purposes despite the wind. My chest rose suddenly and tears spilled down my cheeks as they drove off. Because there it was -- Celestial in a Telestial world. 

(And I should add, that Jesse was able to be baptized for all 16 men! And the girls for the 16 they had between them! Such happiness! I have the feeling that all of them were eager to make that covenant with God and that they were privileged to be sent that morning on my kids' first return trip to the temple.)

Anyway, moving on!

We felt a little badly when we arrived at Penny's track meet last Friday ... after her one and only race. But we felt less bad (or equally bad? or more bad? it's hard to say) when we discovered Penny missed her only race as well! Haha. Poor girl. It was the first event. And the bus got them there late. But these kids still had a good time watching the other runners and goofing off on the bleachers for a bit.

I love how the Spirit can use the words in The Book of Mormon to give us very personal guidance on specific issues -- even though all of those specific issues and circumstances could never all be directly touched on in the book. It's miraculous really. 

The other day I was feeling discouraged about an issue with my parenting and not knowing how exactly to handle things. I happened to be reading the Allegory of the Olive Tree in Jacob 5. In verse 66 I read "... ye shall clear away the bad as the good shall grow, ... until the good shall overcome the bad". I read over it and continued on without much thought. But when I got to verse 72 where it talks about the Lord of the vineyard laboring with his servants, I somehow felt drawn back to 66. "[C]lear away the bad as the good shall grow." My mind glazed and my focus was short, so on I went again. But then, I don't know. There was this push. "Go back!" And the third time, I suddenly heard the Lord's message to me regarding the thing I was struggling with in my parenting. 

I often feel so anxious to just remove all the bad -- every faulty behavior, every ingratitude, etc. in my children -- that it becomes my focus. Here I felt the Lord say to me, "Nurture the good! I will help clear away the bad as the good grows."

I don't know that I know exactly how to nurture the good. And I'm sure, in my mortal attempts to learn, I will often revert to frustration and simply trying to shout out the bad. But this. It was something. A message to me on a very specific issue found in an unlikely chapter in this sacred book. 

And with that, we will wrap this post up! (The last two pictures below were taken by Penny as we drove home from her meet. Cute.)

Skaging

Starling occasionally refers to herself in the third person as ... SKA-GING. There's something so fierce and Viking-like about it. We love our little Skaging. 

Also she says "nope" to many many things that we ask her if she's interested in. Sometimes she'll be running busily off with something on her mind just as someone will say, "Hi Starling!". Without a pause, she'll simply cut them off with a, "Nope!" -- as if she has no time to be bothered with whatever pleasantries they might have to offer.

One thing I find fascinating about her is how smiles transform her face. Serious Starling and Smiling Starling look like two different babies to me!

Dear little cherub. We love her. 

And, to end, a few more trampoline pictures, as well as a few of Penny for some office posters. "Vote Penny. It just makes cents."

Oh, and one last one of Star watching Penny's first ever track meet. (No picture of Penny because she ran by much before I expected her and I missed the shot!) Also a few of Anders holding our gray chicken the day before it passed away. (It was seeming a bit slow and out of sorts. So Anders gave it some attention. And was glad he did when we discovered that day was his last. I'm pretty sure the little fella was about 100 years old though, so he had a good life. Uhhh ... also ... that hen is not an "it" or a "he" or a "little fella", rather, a she. My bad.) Lastly, you can see the kids looking under the deck and trying to give alfalfa to the goat Mike rented for Spring Break. Initially it spent much of its time hiding from us under our deck. 

The Farm and Blessings Tied to Obedience

The last day at the cabin is always a bit of a bummer. Usually we still want some sort of adventure so it still actually feels like part of the trip, but the packing and cleaning up looms in front of us. And on the Monday after Easter, there didn't seem to be a lot left to do. It was cold for the beach (and we knew everyone would get sandy and wet if we attempted a walk along the water), and our Limber Pine Trail was still too covered in snow. So, instead of staying at the cabin, we had a leisurely morning, enjoyed our Monday phone call with Abe, packed and cleaned, then headed for the farm to continue our adventuring (stopping to pick up pizza, donut holes and grapes along the way). (Daisy isn't pictured because she had to head back to Provo a day early. And Goldie is only rarely pictured ... because that's just the way she is.)

It was windy. And at one point half our pizza and donuts were blown into the weeds and dirt. But we all piled on 4-wheelers and drove the usual loops. Then Mike opened the gate that lead into the field a neighbor rents to keep cows and we drove over to the trough to see the goldfish (and Jesse drove through several very fresh piles of cow manure ...). 

Everyone always seems happy at the farm.

Someday, before way too long, we hope to possibly be able to arrange things in order to live up there. It's complicated and at times it seems like it will never work. And maybe it won't. But through all the years of our marriage, whenever Mike would mention it, I'd smile and nod while inwardly thinking, "Nah. It'll never happen." (And hoping it wouldn't.) But something has shifted in me the last three years. It feels peaceful when I am there. And if it ever does work, ... then off we'll all go. 

In the meantime, these occasional stops up there are fun and always result in some great photos! :)

This has nothing to do with the farm, but while I'm here (meaning: here -- on my blog), I recently read this experience from Elder Yoon Hwan Choi:

While still serving in the Seattle mission, I received a phone call from my oldest son, Sunbeam, who is a pianist. He said he would have the privilege of performing at Carnegie Hall in New York because he won an international competition. We were so happy and very thrilled for him. However, that evening, while praying with gratitude, my wife recognized that we could not join him for his performance and said to Heavenly Father something like this: “Heavenly Father, I am grateful for the blessing Thou hast given to Sunbeam. By the way, I am sorry that I cannot go there. I could have gone if Thou had given this blessing either before or after this mission. I am not complaining, but I have a little feeling of sorry.”

As soon as she finished this prayer, she heard a clear voice: “Because you cannot go, your son has been given this privilege. Would you rather trade?”

I've thought often about the blessings connected to our obedience. And how interesting it is that there are very specific blessings tied to our righteous choices that are often not the things we would suspect might be related at all. (For example, Neal Anderson once share a story about a time when some great blessing came into his life. As he prayed to thank the Lord, he heard a voice, completely unexpected, come into his mind and tell him that this blessing had come because of his kind treatment of a mission companion years earlier!) 

I've joked with a few loved ones that it would be fun to see a chart showing actions and obedience and the unexpected but specific blessings tied to it. And I find it fascinating when the Spirit, on occasion, lets us know just what certain blessings were tied to. For example, I don't think my oldest sister would mind my sharing that she had a fear of her children ever dying early. When she adopted her autistic son from Bulgaria, she felt the Spirit tell her that a blessing tied to that choice was that her children would be protected from early death. 

I've had one or two experiences like that of my own. One was a certainty that came after my enormous struggle with fear and lacking faith to bring a tenth child to our home (which of course seems utterly ridiculous now that she is here, and, consumed with the overwhelming love I have for her, I nearly burst every moment praying thanks to the Lord for letting me know I should have her). Still, when I had battled my overwhelming fears and had become pregnant with her, I had a strong feeling that my willingness to have her had somehow claimed desired blessings for Abe for his mission. Obviously I don't know completely what those were, but the feeling was confirmed when his call arrived the same week Starling was born and he stood in the circle to bless her the same week he left on his mission. 

My point in all of that is simply that I have been struck recently at how often the blessings we receive for following the Lord -- living righteously, serving others, and acting as guided by The Spirit -- come as blessings to those we love! Isn't that amazing? I don't know. It just ... it's marvelous and miraculous and beautiful to me. That by our using our own agency to be obedient we can bless not only ourselves, but those whose welfare often matters to us more than our own. Obviously we don't obey on conditions that the Lord grant us blessings. We follow Him because we love Him and want his will to prevail in our lives. And, even trusting that blessings are tied to obedience, we still can't pick and choose how or when or in what way those blessings come. But I love knowing that specific ties do exist. And I think it is beautiful to know that very often those blessings come upon the heads of those we plead for. It also humbles me a little as I wonder more fully over the blessings I have received due to the obedience and goodness of my parents and grandparents. 

Anyway, enough of that. And back to the farm. It was a good way to end our get-a-way weekend. The End.