Church – Page 25 – Letters from Home

Bags for Every Occasion

Bags for every occasion

Let me confess to you my naïveté about women’s handbags of any kind. I didn’t know that there was a world of high fashion bags until I was in my late twenties. Petunia Pickle Bottom bags weren’t invented when I bought my first diaper bag. When I became a mother, I went down to Kmart and bought a mint green diaper bag with pastel animals printed all over it. I had no opinions about diaper bags until I got home from that shopping trip.

Someone looked at my new bag and said, “I’ve always felt that the bag should reflect the taste of the mother, not her baby.”

“Ouch,” I thought, and never felt good about that bag after that.

There was a Louis Vuitton purse in my mom’s closet in 1997 that was a hand-me-down from my Great-aunt Susan. My mom didn’t like the purse and gave it to me. I was looking for a bag that could hold diapers without looking like a diaper bag since my mint green bag was juvenile, apparently. After a few months I realized that this cavernous purse without pockets didn’t suit my needs. It wasn’t attractive to me, so I donated it to charity along with some worn out clothes. Later, I learned that the bag was worth hundreds of dollars. (Facepalm.)

One of the most important bags that I have carried as a mother is the church bag. In the mothers’ room at church I learned from other women that plastic bags, multiple changes of clothes, and blankets were necessary for the newborn. When babies became toddlers and didn’t want to sit still, the church bag carried anything that would entertain.

For a typical week at church when the kids were young I would load my long-handled, fabric church bag with our Baby Bible, a bag of dry cereal, sippy cups, extra pacifiers, diapers, wipes, and toys, toys, toys. We had child-sized etch-a-sketches, magnetic paper dolls, fabric swatches to make dresses on princesses, sewing cards with laces, Bible cards, Book of Mormon games, puzzles, and markers that wouldn’t mark anything but their allotted book.

When Mark was born, Richard sat on the stand each Sunday with the bishop during sacrament meeting. I had 4 children to keep quiet on my own, so I got more inventive. Into the church bag went Great-grandma’s heirloom costume jewelry and porcelain dog. I let the children hold these if they were very good. Many children can hold precious things carefully, and this is an exercise in reverence. I filled plastic Easter eggs with small surprises. I purchased handfuls of hand puppets and finger puppets. I cut out felt books of stories from the Bible and the Book of Mormon.

I wouldn’t carry all of my tricks at once. I would rotate them in and out of the bag week by week. If I took the time to load the bag with plenty of quiet activities, not cars and action figures, the kids were more reverent. I learned that cereals with a lot of sugar were not a good idea because the kids would be grumpy after they ate these. I tried to serve snacks in the hallway before sacrament meeting so we weren’t crinkling wrappers and the kids didn’t learn to expect food when we sat in the chapel. These ideas, typed out in front of me now, seem like basic wisdom, but I they were hard-earned.

I have carried many bags over the years, but the diaper bag and church bag have been the most important. When I hear a young child upset at church I still look in my bag to find something to entertain. Unfortunately, my church bag just has pens and paper in it now. And it still doesn’t reflect my incredibly classy taste. Also, to those young mothers who have a Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag, good for you. All of you. A good bag, well-stocked, whether it is pretty or not, can make all the difference.

Provo City Center Temple Open House

This picture is a a memento of a day which was very sweet. We toured the newly completed Provo City Center Temple on Saturday, hosted by my parents, who are on the open house committee. I loved the wood work, stained glass, staircases, and stencils. (Richard and Timothy were camping with the Scouts.)

I spent a lot of time in the Provo Tabernacle growing up and I have good memories of the pews and organ and walking around the grounds after church meetings. We visited Provo just days after a fire destroyed the building. It was so sad to see the ruins.

Here is a nice video of the transformation from burned tabernacle to temple.

What I learned as I taught

I taught the Boy Scout Merit Badge class about Animal Science this week. Most of the Scouts were no longer teenagers. They were Scouts with disabilities and it was a stretch for me to prepare for a group with such diverse needs. The things that worked best were storytelling (my lizard story and my sheep story) and using pictures I projected on a huge screen. I invited a young girl in my neighborhood to come along with me to teach a portion of the lesson about chickens and they LOVED hearing her speak.

These are a few things that I observed that night.

1. Smiling is contagious.

2. The Scoutmaster of many years was leaving them and a new Scoutmaster was being assigned. When the announcement was read, many Scouts came out of their seats to hug the man who was leaving. The Scoutmaster could hardly speak because he was so sad to go. I found myself wishing I was less inhibited about showing appreciation for people.

3. The young men who serve each week as “buddies” for these Scouts are the ones learning the most powerful lessons, not the Scouts to whom they are assigned. I hope my sons get a chance to serve in this way someday.

4. One Scout walked in carrying a DVD about the Church. With an enormous smile, he came up to individuals, one by one, to show them his treasure. “Look!” he would say, with such enthusiasm, that each of us felt excitement for his movie, too. If that’s not the essence of what we ought to be doing with our associates in sharing the gospel, I don’t know.

5. Rarely have I felt such connection to people so quickly as I did in that room.

6. I observed the leaders who come each week and saw a calmness in their countenances. I think this must come because they were in a place the Savior would choose to be and doing the things the Savior would be doing if he were here.

7. Little Avery, a fifth grader, showed more poise under pressure than I see in most adults. We can ask children to do hard things.

8. I still love teaching science.

Let’s learn something from the “selfie” generation

Soon after my call to be a Relief Society president, I felt the need to compile a photo directory for the women in my congregation. Many sisters don’t know one another. I didn’t know many of them! We began taking photos in August during activities. I asked Tiffany, who is fearless and has a nice camera, to lead out. I had no idea what a challenge this project would be. In the end, Tiffany, my presidency (Charlene, Cindy, and Kristy), and I had to really extend ourselves to make this happen.

Most women in my congregation, bless their hearts, love every one, are not of the selfie generation. Every photo in this directory, minus a small handful and those I stole from Facebook, seemed to invoke real pain in the person being photographed.

“Can you wait until I lose 20 pounds?” asked more than one sister.

“Let’s just not do this. No, I don’t take photographs.”

“No, please don’t take my picture. And no, I don’t have any photos of myself in my phone that I can send you.”

“I hate that photo of myself.”

“You will NOT use that photo of me. I’m sending you a different one.”

“<silence>” when I begged via email, text, and in person.

To confess, I didn’t love looking at my photo in the directory either. But with each text or email I received with a photo attached I felt celebration well up within me. As I compiled the document on my computer, I had a powerful experience. These women are beautiful! They are each so unique and talented. How I admire each of them. Looking at their pictures all together I felt swept away by how much strength I saw.

Yesterday when we handed out the directories at church, all I heard was how the sisters hated their individual photographs. As disappointing as this is, I still feel a surge of power and love when I look into their faces in the directory. I think they will, too, once the shock of seeing their individual photographs goes away.

What can we learn from the “selfie” generation? We can learn to not take ourselves so seriously. When we smile for a photograph, we are sharing light. You can see it, can’t you?

4,616 questions answered

I finished a substantial goal last Friday: I finished my study of the Gospels by answering all 4,616 questions from Julie M. Smith’s book, Search, Ponder, and Pray: A Guide to the Gospels. My goal was one page per day. Some days this took me 15 minutes. Other days this took me hours. I began on January 1 and finished on November 6. Who knew that my study of the New Testament would include looking up and pondering so many Old Testament scriptures? Who knew that I would love the Gospel of Mark best because it made me want to get out and help people all the time? Matthew nearly killed me, and John always makes me breathless with its depth. Did you know that there were efforts to combine all the Gospels into one account in the early Christian church? I am thankful for the distinct voices of the Gospels.

I was at my “desk” at the kitchen table most of the day to celebrate my birthday by finishing my goal. It was Richard’s gift to me and my gift to myself.

This is the answer to the final question of Julie’s book that I wrote out on my precious day.

Q: How has your testimony changed as a result of studying the Gospels?

A: My testimony of Christ has grown as I’ve focused on the Gospels this year. I’ve seen the Savior in greater dimension. I have felt inspired to be more like him. My study of the Gospels has drawn my heart out to others instead of making me rigid in my appraisal of them. I’ve appreciated the women’s voices and influence in the NT. I’ve appreciated the disciples’ honesty in how they did not understand the doctrine even with Jesus in their midst, but understanding came to them later, a gift from our Father in Heaven. I feel like I know Jesus better; that I can see more clearly how he would handle situations in the world today. He was more than “Love,” although he was its personification; He was more than doctrine, although he preached it and represented it without fear. He didn’t stand for inclusion in a worldly sense, but through his completion of the Atonement, he is the ultimate instrument of inclusion for all of God’s children. I am changed by my study. I won’t remember all of the details, but I am not the same person that I was when I began.

A penny, a screwdriver, and some keys

This is one of the trees in our backyard. It is every shade of lovely.

Timothy taught our Family Home Evening lesson on Monday night. He shared an activity they did in Sunday School.

He handed out objects, such as a comb, flashlight, screwdriver, a penny, and some keys and asked us to make a parable with one of the objects and find a scripture to go with our parable.

Daniel’s parable of the shiny penny: When a penny is minted, it is shiny and has value in the country where it is legal tender. Over time we see that pennies get dirty. If we go to places other than the United States, the penny has no value other than as a piece of metal. We are like the penny, born innocent and shiny. We can remain shiny through repentance. As we go through life, people can see our value because we shine, even if they are unfamiliar with us, like foreign place that doesn’t recognize pennies as money, but can see worth in the metal. We can be a good influence on others as they see that we have something of value to share.

Mark’s parable of the screwdriver: Once a man tried to build a house without the help of a screwdriver or electric drill. He tried and tried to make the screws go in the walls with his hands, but he couldn’t build a house without help. The screwdriver is like the gospel and Heavenly Father’s help. We can build the house only with his help.

And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. -Ether 12:27

Timothy’s parable of the keys: Once a family set out for a trip to the Magic Kingdom. They loaded their car, got in, and sat there, unable to move because they had forgotten their keys. Keys are like faith. We can’t move forward in life without it. Faith is an action. We must do something with it to move forward. We don’t see the destination when we begin, but we trust that the Celestial Kingdom is there and it is our goal. With faith, we move toward that goal.

And now as I said concerning faith—faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true. -Alma 32:21

Bells, piano keys, hymns, Relief Society, symphony, art, and black socks

It was a week of music for our family. We watched Daniel play in his first bell choir concert. His current bell assignment is to play some of the big bass bells. He says playing these bells is like pouring out a full gallon of milk with each note, your wrist and forearms carefully managing the weight. In other words, they are heavy. I felt Christmas drift through the air as they played, even though these weren’t Christmas pieces. December will be a busy month for bells and they will be playing at Temple Square. I am really looking forward to that.

The boys had a piano recital. Daniel played Preludium in E minor by Felix Mendelssohn. Timothy played Little Story by Sergei Prokofieff. Mark played Etude in A minor by Dmitri Kabalevsky. (Like those names mean anything…) I know the pieces just by the tunes. I rarely learn the names and composers, but I sing along in my head to every piece, well-learned by echoes moving through the house at all hours.

I did Relief Society things. Lots of that, but the specific lessons I am learning and the heartache and loneliness that I am exposed to is part of a private journey that I am taking with some sisters. We can all be more aware of, prayerful, and helpful to others.

In general, I spoke at a Relief Society meeting, participated in a ward council meeting, and presented specific ways to involve women in decisions and discussions and how to improve in ministering to others; I also counseled with the Bishop in a private meeting. I wrote, helped set up tables, washed linens, baked, and cooked. I texted, wrote letters, and talked on the phone. I hugged people who were crying and received counsel about how to do things better. I visited a sister late one night. I listened and admired. I thought hard and made plans. I used my calligraphy skills. I drew strength from scripture study and prayer and hugs from Richard. Please don’t think I am bragging. I am painting a picture of our life. I am not unique in what I do.

On Saturday Richard and I joined my sister Sarah and her husband Bryan for dinner at Lamb’s and the symphony.

Daniel played the organ in church on Sunday. A sister on our row in church lifted her infant son dressed in a flannel shirt and I remembered Daniel at that age wearing a flannel shirt. I looked at the contrast between this infant and Daniel at the organ and marveled at the time that has passed without effort. I held that tall young man in my arms not so long ago.

We visited Paige for a few minutes on Sunday night and as always I asked to see some of her art. This was one of her doodles-in-progress, not for an art class. She is critical of it, but there is LIFE in this drawing. I had to share it.

Also, even her scrap pieces of paper with color gradations and paint mixes could be hung on the wall. I smile every time I visit the dorms because the windows and walls are more decorated each time. Twinkle lights, banners, flags representing mission calls to other countries, and little touches of homemaking are creeping into each unit.

And finally, there is Timothy, who goes to school in the dark early hours for jazz band practice. I bought him some new black shoes and black socks to wear with shorts because that’s what you wear now, at least in middle school. It looked strange at first, like they forgot to change out of their dress socks, but I’m good with it now.

Oh, and Halloween is this Saturday and Mark and I have not made any progress on his costume. Aaack!

This post might be TMI but I don’t feel like editing out pieces of our story today like I usually do.

No regrets

I finished a book this week about the impact that different women have made on the world. One of the women in the book was Mother Theresa. It wasn’t the many deeds of service that she did that made the biggest impression on me. It was her words about sometimes feeling distant from God as she did good works. I have felt that way this week and other times.

In my life I expect that service and scripture study will make me feel light and happy, but that doesn’t always happen. I have learned that if we want to become like the Savior, it means that we will have days where we become acquainted with grief, a little like the Savior, who was also a “man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” And that feeling of distance from God may not always be a feeling of distance. Perhaps at times it’s a closeness to what He feels for his children, and sometimes that is grief. Of course there is always a distance between me and God, and this leads me to see how much I need the gift of grace.

I have no regrets for my time spent in the scriptures and service, even if I don’t always feel warm and fuzzy about it. I DO have regrets about my time spent doing frivolous things. 24 hours really is a lot of time each day to get things done. How much time I waste, worrying what other people think of me and following news that isn’t important!

Fish quilt

I am quilting again. I made the pink fish for this quilt that we made for a new baby in our ward. It was my first paper piecing project and I enjoyed it more than I can say, especially when I saw that my square could be used in the quilt. I once made a quilt block for a group project in school and it was rejected for use in the final quilt. The teacher used my square to teach the class “how not to make a quilt square.” I wish I still had it. I would probably frame it, a symbol of how far I have come since then.

“Some people aren’t meant to be quilters,” I remember my teacher saying to the whole class as she held it up. Ha!

I’m with you, so you can do this.

DSC_0588 (640x427) — Photo by Sarah, Spring Lake

*I accidentally pushed “publish” before this essay was ready. Perhaps you read one of my early drafts that I published by mistake. I have made a lot of changes over the past day.

As the seasons change, I realize that we have just a little over 1/3 of the year left. How am I doing on my 2015 goals? I am trying to make an honest assessment of myself while still being gentle.

There were some lofty goals I set for myself in January, to try to be an author, a doll maker, increase my New Testament scholarship, be physically fit, and practice the violin almost every day. In January and through the spring, I had the time to do these things.

As I look back over the summer, I can observe my big goals fizzled out, one by one, along the way. I was asked to do different, more complex things at church. I broke my toe. My computer died. I couldn’t walk, write, or find time to practice. I clung tightly to my scripture goals and made a few dolls this summer, but gave up many other goals. This is my surface assessment of what has happened. If I look more deeply, I can see that I exceeded my writing goal for the year before summer hit. I can see that since having more responsibility from church, my hours feel like they have been expanded. I have been able to accomplish more, even if they are different things than I planned in January.

I’m learning that the version of myself that I wanted to be in January 2015 was good, but maybe the Lord has something different in mind for me. My goals were good because they prepared me for something I couldn’t expect. Through all that writing about motherhood, I was prepared to nurture young mothers, remembering how challenging their days are. I grew closer to my family as I took time to write about them. My testimony of motherhood and family grew. Through my scripture study goals, I have learned many things I want to share with others.

Questions I ask myself as I partake of the sacrament lately revolve around the theme, “How can I do all that I need to do?” The answers have come. Sometimes the answer is to do less. Sometimes the answer is to do more by making better use of little minutes between things. Always the answer is to eat and sleep, and to not neglect my family. One answer came in the scriptures in Deuteronomy 30:

11 ¶For this commandment which I command thee this day, it is not hidden from thee, neither is it far off. (The footnote says: not hidden from thee=not too hard for you)

12 It is not in heaven, that thou shouldest say, Who shall go up for us to heaven, and bring it unto us, that we may hear it, and do it?

13 Neither is it beyond the sea, that thou shouldest say, Who shall go over the sea for us, and bring it unto us, that we may hear it, and do it?

14 But the word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it.

With this passage of scripture the Lord told me, “This is not too hard for you. I am with you, so you can do this. The words are in your mouth as they are needed; the word is in your heart that you may do it.”

These words apply to all of us. It’s not too hard for you. It’s not too hard for me. The Lord is near and makes a way for us to pass through.