This is my presidency, my Covid era, incredible stake Primary presidency. We have been masked, filmed, Zoomed and distanced for most of the time we have served. We have adapted again and again, visited Primary leaders on porches and phones, held meetings outdoors and distanced in chapels. We have facilitated baptisms one by one, keeping families safe. Tonight I decided to take a picture after our masked meeting so I can remember this time, and also how we look behind those masks.
This sunrise greeted me this morning after I dropped off Mark at school. It was a good start to the week. I have been reading about the Creation in the scriptures. God’s creations remind me that He exists, and He is present.
Happy New Year!
I put photos of my 2021 dolls in my little album this week. I am learning new skill in creating personalities in the features. Which doll face or mood matches your hopes for 2022? “Resolute,” as President Nelson said to be? Hopeful and curious? Calm and full of faith? Or maybe cautiously optimistic?
I think I relate to the expression on the blue haired doll. I feel ambivalent about the New Year, blank about the coming months, but maybe a little relieved 2021 is a closed book. I can resolve to keep an open mind to what is ahead and find joy in it, but I would really welcome an easier road for a little while. I feel quieted by the things I need to fix in my life, but I know to whom I can go for help, and I have a plan.
I have been uneasy this week, knowing Tim was in transit in a challenging time, but I have tried not to indulge in my feelings. Without wallowing in my fears, I have been gentle with myself and allowed for comfort, quiet, reading, journaling, and some rest. Tim’s mission is not about me. My prayers have evolved from merely, “Please protect and guide him,” to, “Thy will be done,” (not said in resignation but as an affirmation) and, “Please let my son be a blessing to someone today.” The more I make this about God’s will and and helping others, and focus less on my feelings, the more healthy I become in my heart.
We all enjoy giving and receiving presents. But there is a difference between presents and gifts. True gifts may be part of ourselves– giving of the heart and mind– and therefore more enduring and of far greater worth than presents bought at the store.
James E. Faust
I have been touched by many gifts this Christmas. Paige made drawings of Daniel and Tim at age three to complete my little collection of drawings of our children. Daniel may not consider this as part of his already generous gift and precious letter to me, but his piano accompaniment of the piece I played in church was a beautiful gift. Tim hand wrote long letters to each of us and made sure I had a gift from him under the tree, even though he wasn’t with us this year. Mark gave me a CD of music that he doesn’t enjoy himself, and was my companion for so many errands for Christmas giving. His service and company was so important to me this year.
It isn’t always possible to do something meaningful, but I know when I give “of my heart and mind,” the Spirit of Christmas fills my soul.
Today Paige and Michael celebrate their anniversary. Their presence in our lives is a gift and blessing.
There are things we do to mark the days leading up to Christmas. We have a few Advent calendars, and the little house Advent on my windowsill is one of my favorite new things. There are concerts and the annual trip to Temple Square. My hands have handled many Christmas cards and neighbor gifts, given and received. Most years, I embroider a doll or two for people who are grieving. I made some extras this year since 2021 has been rough for so many people. Today, the husband of someone I gave a doll to this week stopped me and thanked me for the comfort it gave to him. Who knew?!
I received a beautiful gift basket that I wouldn’t let my family open for days because I thought it was so pretty. A week went by, and I finally got around to unpacking the gift. In the bottom of the box, beneath some paper and wrapping was a silver ring with a “T.” I knew this was not intended for me, and tried to find the owner. I was successful, and the woman quickly came over to get her ring that she lost while assembling the box. The ring had the initial of her son who is serving a mission, and she prayed that she would find it. Another tender mercy for a missionary mom.
I might need a “T” ring myself.
My hands have been busy with other things, and today I am only writing as long as I have to wait for Mark to come out of a meeting. Oh, here he is. Merry merry Christmas, my friends.
Well, this one is ready. 🎄🎁🤶 I didn’t know I loved her until the last stitch. Sometimes that’s how it works. I had some adventures with this face, including spraying what I thought was water on it, only to learn that someone had replaced the water in the spray bottle with car cleaning solution. Later, I replaced an entire eye because it was smaller than the other. This doll is a survivor.
1 Samuel 1
There were around 600 missionaries who entered the missionary training center this week, and that can make a person think this is just something we do in our religious culture. But I have the view that every missionary is a unique marvel, and it doesn’t escape my notice that we lend our children to the Lord at the gates of a temple. It is a sacred act to say goodbye to a child going on a mission. For this child I prayed, it is true, but we aren’t really the ones who are doing the lending. It is our son’s decision and gift.
Acts 26:16
The MTC room in our house had a sacred feeling that could capture my breath while Tim lived with us as a missionary. When he left, the room, while peaceful, did not have the same impact. This is evidence to me of the power of God to transform a teenager into a minister and a witness. I don’t know what Tim will be able to do in this pandemic-ridden world, or where he will serve because of so many uncertainties, but I have experienced the peace that accompanies a missionary. The world needs this kind of peace, and I believe the Lord will use our son for good.
2 Timothy 1
So we send him on his way. The hugs are inadequate to convey all we feel, but as I look up at the blue sky and feel the warmth of the sun this week, I feel a compensating joy. I have learned the only way to drive away fear is to act in faith. Then we see miracles.
For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. Be not thou therefore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord… but be thou partaker of the afflictions of the gospel according to the power of God; Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began.
2 Timothy 1:7-9
Today is preparation day for Tim, the day he will need to do his laundry, pick up a new suit and dry cleaning, and get his car back on the ground so we can drive it during his mission. He sold all his vehicles but this one. This one holds so much of his time and labor, I don’t blame him for not wanting to get rid of it.
I cleared away all the autumn stuff yesterday and Mark and I put up all of our Nativities and two trees. Tonight we decorate gingerbread houses to celebrate an early birthday for Tim.
We have tried to be quiet for MTC classes and I never know how long Tim will have for dinner, but I feel pretty good about our family’s role in helping Elder Ross on the first leg of his mission. We haven’t been super spiritual, we have just tried to be helpful and available. Routines have definitely been rocked during the past few weeks, and I am giving myself a measure of grace for not being a monument to family gospel study. With so many unknowns and a rotating schedule, we have scraped through with prayer and a few verses of scripture. We made a gratitude display with scriptures and things we are thankful for. When the kids were younger, we definitely did more than this. I think on this a lot, and haven’t arrived at a strong conclusion about why, or how we can fix things. One truth is that our teens don’t want to engage in conversation with the whole family. It is more of a one-on-one phenomenon when it happens. There is no magic solution to every problem once a home becomes a “missionary training center.” Another truth is that our home has been an MTC all their lives, whether we realize it or not. The piano practice, gospel study, togetherness, and learning to work and serve, it is all there.
We take our places in line together, one, two, three, last time. As we send Tim off to serve, once again our photos won’t be complete for a while. I have been thinking how the pandemic has lengthened our experiences with our children. Everything in our lives shifted, and we have been together more than we imagined we would at this phase in our lives. We have been given time, precious, unexpected, fortifying time, for which I am so thankful.
