Klondike Derby with the Boy ScoutsI spent some time at BYU for a New Testament Commentary conference (yay Julie) and stopped by Paige’s studio.
I have spent an insane amount of time looking at short videos of Mark’s Scout Troop playing in the snow at the Klondike Derby this weekend. It brings me such delight to hear the boys’ voices and see them trying to run in snow pants and colorful parkas against a snowy background. It is the end of childhood and they are playing. My heart!
We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
Anais Nin
Simple, uncomplicated me, just dipping my toes into being a mother of adults, wonders, “What do I know?” Very little. Nothing at all. But I delight in hearing my friend Julie Smith speak, whose book, The Gospel According to Mark, A New Rendition, was just published. I delight in seeing little boys happy, in seeing Paige’s actual palette of paints, in hearing Tim’s friends laughing in the basement, and watching Richard enjoy the lemon bars I made. There is depth and validity in those delights. It was a good weekend.
This is my favorite time of the morning, when the sun moves beyond the mountain’s shadow, usually an hour after the valley sees the sun.
I take pictures of the house because I am thankful for it. We look at magazines or Instagram for inspiration for beautiful spaces, but they are usually photographs of rooms without people. Why does this please us? Rebecca Solnit wrote about this, and came to the conclusion that we dream of possibilities when we see a clean, clear room. But what about when the empty room also reminds us of times lost? I have a beautiful, empty kitchen and I wonder how I came to this so quickly, when life was so full before. There were four children with very different needs and interests to keep up with. Homeschool filled my life. There were projects at the kitchen table, art supplies everywhere, books on every surface, and piano music throughout the day. We sang together and we went places. Now it is just the crumbs of connection after long days of school and homework. I am not saying I believe we can or should go back to what we had. It’s just that today, I ache for what was. We have entered a bristly phase at home, and lately I can’t say the right thing. Stillness will be my lot for a while, whether I am alone or not. But the home is beautiful and comfortable for us when we can be together. We have conformed. We have conformed to much. We have also grown and achieved more than these walls can contain. An empty kitchen is just one evidence of the progress of our children to independence. I will learn to bear it.
Last night, I awoke and couldn’t get back to sleep. I started thinking of the difficult things and the easy things I do. Included in my “difficult” list were big things (personal) and little things like having to leave the house. Ha! The easy things were kind of brainless, and included things such as looking at the news on my phone. Next, I thought about the really rewarding experiences I have had recently. Only one thing on the “rewarding” list was “easy.” Everything else that provided a rewarding experience was “difficult” for me, meaning it required courage, energy, work, or uncertainty. I visualized a Venn diagram of Difficult things vs Rewarding things and it had almost complete overlap, or correlation.
I need to learn not to fight against growth so much. The discomfort of ignorance and traveling to night classes is turned to awe at my fellows who have paid the price to learn things and for my God who created it all in the first place. The discomfort of reaching out to someone is overshadowed by the increase in my own spirit as I do it, regardless how the person reacts. Dealing with infirmity brings perspective and clarity that would otherwise be absent. God simply cannot be indebted to us. He is abundance and grace and generosity, even and especially in our difficulties.
Lexi Walker was incredible in this show!Relief Society. I am in the bottom left, listening to Maren explain that just because a room is organized doesn’t mean it will always be clean…unless one keeps it clean. (Mind. blown.) (Mudroom, I am talking about you.)Tim begins another dance odyssey. This is a frisbee on which the paper is mounted. So cute.
This makes me 20 kinds of angry.
I found a really good deal on a really nice smoker. Richard has wanted one for about 8 years. So we bought it.Emphasis on the idea that Angie Found a Good Deal. Originally $1000New faucets going in.It’s a mess before it’s beautiful.
After a blustery night and as I enter a gray-brown day, I see winter-swept scenery through bare branches. I have some projects with fabric once the floors dry and I finish dusting. I need to do some clothing alterations. After that, I hope for easier weather when I have to carry my sewing machine to a friend’s house for quilt work with friends who will probably be dressed in gray sweaters. Sometimes the howl of the wind thinks it will remind me it is winter, but I need no reminders. The steely light permeates every corner of the house, a reminder that the sunlight is there, but has traveled through miles of clouds to reach us. Today, we just get the leftovers of sunshine. The views are bleak, but the snowflakes on my window help.
Even my church assignment (I still do not feel it is a “calling”) is about the dead. Shoulders hunched and eyes focused on computer screens, I study clues from handwriting of those long gone. I sit among people 20-30 years older than I am in research classes and feel young! Woot! I have never felt so isolated, but I anticipate connection with living people will be possible in this work, eventually. I am entering my fifth month away from church assignments involving people who breathe. My temple and family history assignment still is not defined, and I wait. It’s a busy kind of waiting, as I have so much to learn. I am giving many hours a week to a work that feels absolutely invisible, kind of like housework. Ha!
My assigned ministering route was changed and not a single woman wants me in her home. Some have had it with churchy things. Another just needs to get out of the house rather than have a visit. She helped me make the snowflakes on my window as we talked this week. I count it an act of trust when I get a text from one asking me to give her son a ride home from school. Discipleship and ministry are among the indefinable things.
I gift myself one day of study a week. In these books, I lose myself to a degree that I call indulgence. Church prophets have often told women they are needed and important, but now I feel I have been given a task to prove it. I have come to understand that my New Testament knowledge, gleaned over years and years, is needed in my family. I still apologize and feel insecurity when I let myself be seen by my family for who I am: a scripture nerd. I spend time coming up with activities that will allow my sons to come to love the New Testament as I do. It takes all my self-control not to spill out what I have learned and what I feel, and what the Jews did, and what the landscape is like, and what a different translation teaches, and literary techniques of Gospel writers, and, and, and, and…Mary kept these things and pondered them in her heart. In a house full of men who do not enjoy conversation, I do a lot of pondering.
A few weeks ago I realized that Tim and Mark have seen very few plays, so I bought tickets to The Wizard of Oz at Hale Center Theater for later today. This will be a good start to a four-day weekend for them, and we are all ready for it. There was a bomb threat at Tim’s school this week and half the student body stayed home on Wednesday. This week I have learned that I need to get used to my children being in mortal peril. Let’s celebrate by watching Dorothy get swept away by a tornado and flying monkeys!
Today Daniel’s apartment building caught on fire in Santiago, Chile. He escaped, thanks to living angels who stopped to warn, guide, and unlock doors. Feel free to join me in prayers of gratitude for his protection. He grabbed his scriptures, wallet, keys, camera, and photos which were already prepared for travel. He already had his shoes on when the call came to escape. He and the other elders had to abandon a smoky stairwell with hot handrails for a different route out. When they were trapped on the roof, with only locked doors to stairs going down, someone came up to open a locked door to a safe stairwell. A quote from his message today:
Needless to say, that was an intense experience. Maybe we were never in real danger. But my mindset changed. As a missionary, I already have very few personal belongings, but as I stood there with reminders of my family and my scriptures with all my markings and couldn’t think of anything else I would want to save I realized how easily we can get distracted by things that don’t last. There are a lot of things I left behind that don’t matter, and now that’s especially clear to me.
God really does protect us, guide us, answer prayers, and puts people, thoughts, and when necessary angels in our lives to help us return to live with him again. The Savior truly understands us, and through his infinite sacrifice and atonement we can be cleansed from sin.
-Elder Daniel Ross
I was very unwell all morning before I heard about this. Maybe I knew on some level he was in danger. I also felt complete peace when he announced his call (mission assignment) last April. I don’t need any more assurance that all will be well, whatever things look like at present. I don’t think he has his “cloak,” but he does have his “parchments,” (2 Timothy 4:13), and knows the value of them.
And last of all, here is a link to the journal page for our study of Matthew 2 and Luke 2 at our house for the week of January 14-20.
In 2018, I learned it was God holding up my children. Not me.
I learned that I do not like philosophical email exchanges. I prefer less theory and more practical planning.
My skin is failing me.
My children have all surpassed me in musical ability.
I learned that I am good at knowing what people need.
I learned that the things I wished for when I was young are still what I wish for now: a simple house, quiet evenings, and books. Oh, and dolls.
I appreciate cheerful, fun-loving sidekicks.
I learned to not define myself by what I do. I am more than all of that.
I learned that my patriarchal blessing has a whole paragraph devoted to what I am going through right now. I always wondered why that paragraph was there. Now I know.
I have caused hurt.
I am full of power to act.
It is easy for me to find something to be grateful for each day.
I learned a little more that Christ is always the answer.
In 2019 I want to know what to say. I want to go ice skating. I want to conquer some fear. I want to be better at diverting a couple of people from negativity. I want to savor every day with my children while they still live with me. I want to be clear with others of what I know. I need God’s grace to make me meek, open, and unencumbered. 2019, we have our work cut out for us.
I mailed off my thank you notes for Christmas this morning and felt some relief after facing it. I question my wording, my tardiness, my choice of card. I wonder if I will seem overly flowery in my words or give the impression I am underwhelmed by a gift. I worry that it is another reminder that I am annoying. I am posting a radio segment I listened to today that addresses these concerns.
Julie is my friend from elementary school, middle school, and high school. We were also college roommates. She is the host for BYU Radio’s Top of Mind. Here is her interview about the value of thank you notes.
(it is about six minutes.)
If you are too busy to listen, the summary is that you should write how you feel and not worry about form or being annoying. Research supports that people love to receive thank you notes.
This week, the goal is for each person to study a few verses on their own each day and write about it. We wanted the kids to start a journal of their scripture study, so each week I plan to make a page on which they can write. This week I typed it. Some weeks it may be photocopies of post-it notes. And yes, we will be sweetening the deal as we come together to share on Sunday morning. We will keep reading the Book of Mormon as a family in the evenings. Every scripture and question is listed in the study guide, so there’s nothing original here, just the way we are going to use it.
Post edit addition: we are changing the cinnamon roll time because it’s the first Sunday of the month. 😉
We visited Temple Square on one of the warmest December nights we have known. We were able to listen to the Nativity narration outdoors and noticed for the first time that there is a star mounted on top of the Tabernacle. We had just fed the missionaries dinner before we came, and their message was to “Look up!” Amen.Timothy and I played a medley of German Christmas carols at church and for family. He is a great pianist and accompanist.Timothy got his license.We had a birthday party for Tim and my parents came.Mark made raspberry jam for his dad’s Christmas present. 😍I shopped for stuffed animals. The giraffe!Christmas morning fun
We were able to do a video call with Daniel and we didn’t need all of those questions we planned to ask. He talked non-stop, with enthusiasm, zeal, and happiness pouring forth. I didn’t know how much I needed to just see him and hear him speak. I didn’t take a picture of the screen, but imagine light, clothed in the Christmas tie that I was told he probably wouldn’t receive in the mail, a short haircut, sunburned neck, and speaking a mixture of Spanish and English, really fast. That was Daniel. Nothing sad about that.
Paige is with us, and moves from her room, where she is catching up on some reading, to the piano, every few hours throughout the day. Chopin, Debussy, and Jane Austen scores are now in the mix played on our piano. She is all things lovely.
